《Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey》 Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter One ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- I take a sharp breath as I jerk awake. Fire flows through my veins! I spend the briefest of moments staring at the leather that lines the inside of the sleeping hut, listening. Then ¡°EVERYONE WAKE UP!¡± I cry, leaping to my feet and treading between their stirring bodies as I run to the doorway. I grab a spear with my left hand and pull back the door curtain with my right. Compared with the heat of the sleeping hut, the late Summer night air is cool against my bare arms and chest but I don¡¯t have time to enjoy it! I sprint across our hearthstead, clutching my weapon, tightly. I leap more than twice my own height to clear the embers of yesterday¡¯s fire and avoid losing time by going around it. I hear the shouting of the boys on watch tonight but it isn¡¯t until I come around the larder hut that I finally see it. Down on all fours and still more than a head taller than me, the moonlight reflects off of the shaggy coat of fur covering its massive frame and catches against its dark, beady eyes to make them glisten like glossy flint. Drool hangs from the bottom jaw of its short snout beneath the enormous nose that¡¯s sniffed out our winter stores in the larder. I see Morlu, lying on the ground behind the cavebear, bloodstained and unmoving. Dolut and Tabrok stand in between me and the monster, jabbing their spears at it and shouting to ward it away. My brother turns his head to me and shouts ¡°RAALA! G-!¡± But that¡¯s as far as he gets before I scream ¡°DOLUT! LOOK OUT!!!¡± It¡¯s no good¡­ The monster¡¯s left paw lashes out for my brother¡¯s head, taking advantage of his distraction to lay a blow on him that it wasn¡¯t able to when he had his focus on it. It seems to be happening very slowly but I know that that¡¯s relative. Dolut has no time to react! The swipe connects. My brother¡¯s neck breaks instantly and he¡¯s thrown against the side of the larder hut, hard enough to shake the entire thing as well as dislodging the weatherproofing leather, revealing the wooden frame and insulating reed bundles beneath. Dolut crumples down to the ground¡­ dead. My mouth hanging open in horror, I turn my attention back to the bear, seeing it rear up to twice my height on its stubby back legs, its long, thick arms hanging down in front of it¡¯s body. The gigantic beast seems to grow even bigger as it takes a deep inhale before it opens its mouth to roar down at me! Silencing the grief and anguish that would only be liabilities to me right now if I let myself feel them, I grip my spear and roar back! ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- I stand on a clifftop, my cape billowing in the chilly wind that blows from the North as I look down at a large river channel, far below me. Just as Old Red said, the water sounds like distant thunder, clearly audible even from so far up. The river isn¡¯t as impressive as the Great River from back home but it¡¯s still definitely the second grandest I¡¯ve ever seen! My sister steps to my side and spends a brief moment enjoying the view of the sparklingly icy mountains with me, away in the distance to the North and stretching East, as they catch the setting sun. Then she turns her head to look up at me. ¡°We finally made it, Ksem!¡± she says, gleefully. ¡°We finally made it, Bwey.¡± I smile back. Ahead of us should be the Great Basin¡­ Our destination¡­ The place we¡¯ve been hearing about since we were children¡­ the place we¡¯ve been striving to reach since we lost our home¡­ Our journey¡¯s nearly over! ¡°No one¡¯s going to forget your part in this, Ksem¡­!¡± says Bwey, unusually seriously, gesturing to the camp being set up behind us ¡°¡­You did this! You got us here! We would never have made it without you!¡± I grin, playfully, and observe ¡°You¡­ realise that¡¯s a bit of a sharpened handle there, BweBwe(!?)¡­ If it turns out the Basin is terrible, everyone¡¯s gonna remember that this was my idea(!)¡± She twists her face into an exasperated smirk and slaps the back of her knuckles against my arm before answering ¡°If it¡¯s half as nice here as Old Red always told us it was, I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be fine(!)¡± ¡°I really hope so¡­¡± I answer, taking a deep breath of the strange smelling, foreign air. Then I catch a whiff of the earthy smell of petrichor (so similar to the way Old Red smelled and yet not the same) that announces the presence of our guide. I turn around to smile down at the man approaching me and my sister. He stands about two finger widths shorter than Bwey but, like Old Red, his shoulders are broad, his chest is rounded, his limbs are thick and his skin is as pale as dry papyrus leaves! Also like Old Red, this man has wide cheeks, a large nose, a brow shelf and a sloping forehead. His hair is not brown and it grows thick on his lower face as well as the rest of his (mostly nude, despite the chill) body but, unlike Old Red¡¯s, it isn¡¯t red either. It¡¯s a vivid yellowy orange colour¡­ like desert sand! ¡°Torgan! What can I help you with?¡± I beam at him, speaking his language. The short, stocky man finishes striding over before looking up at me, his large, doleful green eyes about at the height of my clavicle. He takes a moment to just stare into my face, his expression fairly unreadable, before jabbing an arm past me, down into the gorge below us.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°That¡¯s the Thundering Rift¡­ That¡¯s as far as I said I¡¯d take you¡­ I know I didn¡¯t do much in the end but¡­¡± ¡°But you want what we promised you¡­?¡± I smile sweetly down at him. He shifts, awkwardly, and casts his heavy brow to the floor before saying. ¡°N¡­ No¡­ I was actually wondering if I could renegotiate¡­?¡± ¡°Renegotiate?¡± I ask, my voice neutral. I¡¯m braced for the worst¡­ Just what is he going to ask for? It would be a shame to fall out with him now¡­ after the weeks we¡¯ve just spent securing him and his clan as allies! ¡°I was¡­ I wanted to know¡­ If I could have a woman instead¡­¡± My face immediately goes stoney as I answer ¡°Torgan¡­ No! That¡¯s absolutely not g-!¡± Panicking, he looks up at me and says ¡°No! I didn¡¯t explain myself well! I don¡¯t want to take just any woman! I have a specific one in mind! Tsazel! All I want is your permission to take her back to my hearthstead¡­ For that, I¡¯ll give up what you promised my clan.¡± ¡°Does Tsazel actually want to go with you, Torgan?¡± ¡°She¡­ does¡­¡± he answers, uncomfortably. ¡°¡­buuuut?¡± I prompt. ¡°Well¡­ her mother¡­ doesn¡¯t want to let her¡­¡± he says, ashamed. I sigh ¡°Alright, Torgan¡­ No matter what, you¡¯re walking out of here with what I promised your clan¡­ I can¡¯t break my word to them.¡± His face sinks. ¡°But¡­¡± I add, perking him back up ¡°¡­why don¡¯t you and I go and have a little chat with Tsazel and Kseley and see if we can work this out between the three of you, hmmm?¡± Confused, he asks ¡°You mean¡­? You¡¯d let me take the bows and the girl?¡± ¡°Tsazel¡¯s not mine to give you, Torgan¡­ If she wants to come and we can convince Kseley to let her go then you can take her with my blessing. The bows aren¡¯t yours to refuse¡­ They¡¯re reimbursement to your clan for your absence as much as they are to you for your help¡­ That¡¯s the way it is¡­¡± He gives a nervous smile, revealing a mouthful of thumbnail sized teeth. I lay my palm on his broad, bare, hairy shoulder and ask ¡°Shall we go and talk to them right now? Do you know where they are?¡± The bearded man gives an enthusiastic grunt of agreement and spins around to begin leading the way. I turn to my sister and say ¡°See you later, BweBwe.¡± ¡°Go work your magic, big shot(!)¡± she chuckles back. I follow Torgan as we cross the shrubby ground between the cliff and the edge of camp. It doesn¡¯t take long before I can hear the sounds of a loud, heated argument that give me some idea of the direction we need to be heading(!) Being quite tall compared with even my people, I¡¯m able to see over the tops of some tents that will be blocking Torgan¡¯s view of the younger woman and the older woman physically grappling while screaming into eachother¡¯s faces. Thankfully, the argument is in the language of the 144 Channels and rapid enough that I don¡¯t think Torgan is going to have the slightest chance of understanding the awful things Kseley is saying about him! ¡°¡­If you think I¡¯m going to let my daughter run off with some short, fat, smelly brute and live in his camp without a soul in the world to talk to or protect her¡­!¡± snarls Kseley, hand gripping her daughter¡¯s wrist. ¡°I¡¯ll have people to talk to!¡± defies Tsazel ¡°Unlike you, I bothered learning the language so I¡¯ll have an entire hearthstead of people to talk to! And I¡¯ll have TorTor to protect me! This is what I want, Mum!¡± ¡°You¡¯re too young to know what you want! Running away seems romantic to you now but will it be as romantic in a year? Two? Five?! Even if he and his tribe don¡¯t eat you the first chance they get when you don¡¯t have us around to protect you, do you think whatever charm that beast¡¯s worked on you is going to survive the first one of his broad shouldered crossbreeds you have to push out!?¡± ¡°I love him, Mum!¡± Fury flashes in Kseley¡¯s eyes but I interrupt before things can get more heated than they already are! ¡°Ladies¡­¡± I smile, turning on my (not inconsiderable) charm to deescalate ¡°¡­I understa-¡° ¡°TorTor!¡± shrieks Tsazel, swinging her arm to break her mother¡¯s grip and running to the man by my side, clinging to his bare chest protectively and glaring back at her mother¡­ who matches the expression. I sigh inwardly and continue ¡°I understand there¡¯s something of a disagreement between you three? Why don¡¯t we go into your tent to discuss it?¡± ---Torgan¡¯s perspective--- I look up at the tall, slim man with the flat face, skin the colour of chestnuts and hair the colour of charcoal. I cannot believe what he just did! The absolute best case scenario I was hoping for was that he would order Tsazel¡¯s mother to let her go! I was resigned to the fact that Kseley could not be won over, that she would never be convinced to let her daughter live so far from where she and the rest of her people are going. This man, barely more than a boy (though these people¡¯s baby faces do make it a little difficult for me to exactly guess their ages), sat us all down in their tent and not only mediated a reconciliation between mother and daughter but, also, convinced Kseley to accept Tsazel¡¯s choice to return to my hearthstead with me!¡­ All while acting as translator for me and the older woman! I suppose I shouldn¡¯t be surprised that a man acting as the (effective) leader of the single largest collection of people I¡¯ve ever seen would be charismatic and persuasive! Still¡­! Even though he was doing it for my benefit, I would be lying if I said it wasn¡¯t a little frightening to watch him just completely change a person¡¯s mind in front of me like that! And not just any person! A sorceress! Makes me a little anxious about whether he¡¯s done that to me at any point without me realising! My clan were absolutely terrified when this utter host of lanky flatfaces descended on our lands a few moons ago! It was reassuring to learn that they didn¡¯t plan to stay long and were just passing through on their way to the Great Basin. When they asked for someone to show them the way and promised to compensate us in the form of their incredible ¡®bows¡¯ (pieces of wood and lengths of sinew cord that they¡¯ve made such that they launch tiny feathered spears further and faster than anyone could throw by hand!) and ¡®arrows¡¯ (the tiny feathered spears), I was volunteered by my clan. I told them I¡¯d only ever been as far as the Thundering Rift, so that was as far as I could take them¡­ which they agreed to. To be honest, they didn¡¯t really seem to need much directing and I suspect what they wanted more was someone to help them learn our language. I never imagined that, so quickly and so entirely, I would end up falling for one of them and she for me! I watch as Tsazel and her mother press their foreheads together, tears streaming down the chestnut skin of their flat faces as they say their goodbyes that I don¡¯t have a chance of understanding. With a final embrace, the two women part and the younger one comes to my side. The older one strides up to me, her flat face glaring down, slightly higher than mine, beneath her (mostly black with one or two white) ropes of head hair. ¡°Svu¡¯eh ve¡¯tse! Ksletema! Se¡¯anatashe un¡¯a nun se¡¯antsita an s¡¯xentae bwantle qot¡¯e vetsein angweutvei ne¡¯nentsa vakreu!¡± snarls the woman. ¡°She says that if you ever hurt her daughter or make her cry, she will feel it in the wind and she will lay a curse on you¡­ so bad as to make you wish you were never born.¡± translates the tall man, standing behind her. I look into the old woman¡¯s fierce brown eyes and answer ¡°Please tell her that I will spend the rest of my life trying to give her daughter smiles¡­ I swear it on Mother Mammoth!¡± The old woman¡¯s tear stained face softens as the man puts my words into their language for her. The flat faced witch seizes the sides of my head with her palms and there¡¯s a brief moment where I think she¡¯s about to headbutt me¡­ only for her to lay a ferocious kiss on my forehead. She holds my head against her lips for several long moments while I¡¯m left unsure of what to do¡­ and so do nothing. Finally she pulls away and says ¡°Wehentsa! Ve¡¯irtsa!¡± ¡°The pact is made. The bargain struck¡­¡± translates the lanky young man. I have a small amount of terror wash over me as I realise I just made a deal with a witch¡­ before I realise how easy it¡¯s going to be to hold up my end of the bargain¡­(!) With that, the old woman stands aside and Ksem steps forward. He first holds out a bundle of carved sticks, their ends all tapering to points with notches etched in, bound in their own bowstrings. ¡°As promised, eight bows¡­¡± he says, handing me the (surprisingly heavy) bundle before holding up a long leather bag, many feathered sticks poking out of the open end, handing me that as well ¡°¡­and ninety six arrows. Take them with our deepest gratitude to you and to your people and know that you are friends of the people of the Great River Delta.¡± ¡°And¡­ know too that you are friends to the people of the Speartooth Hearthstead.¡± I answer, a little bewildered. The charming man beams down at me with all the warmth and radiance of the Sun! ¡°Goodbye Torgan¡­ Goodbye Tsazel¡­ I hope you find your happiness together.¡± ¡°Goodbye Ksem¡­ I hope you and your people find whatever you¡¯re searching for in the Great Basin.¡± I answer. He smiles. I sling my clan¡¯s rewards over my shoulders and wave a hand to the entire crowd of tall folk who¡¯ve come to see me and Tsazel off. ¡°Ve¡¯ehna!¡± chorus more voices than I¡¯ve ever heard speaking at once. ¡°Ve¡¯ehna!¡± shouts back Tsazel. ¡°Goodbye!¡± I shout. Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Two ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- My hands are on the front handles of a heavy pall as I lead the way along a hillside path that has us cresting over the forest canopy. I¡¯ve been carrying it, on and off, since nearly a week ago¡­ though it should be much quicker to return home, even accounting for the hunting we¡¯ll need to do on the way back. The charcoal footprints that mark out the paths in Bison Hearthstead¡¯s lands have changed colour twice (to white chalk as we passed through the territory of Wolf Hearthstead and now to orange in the territory of Golden Eagle Hearthstead) and changed direction three times. I spare a glance to the side to make sure we¡¯re still going the right way¡­ Yep¡­ the toes are still pointing forward, we haven¡¯t overshot it. Just as I¡¯m thinking that, we round the side of the hill and I recognise where we are from the plume of smoke I can see rising above the trees. It takes us about another twentieth of the sunlight to make it down the hill and through the forests to the huts at the edge of the hearthstead. I place down my end of the pall and turn around to the other five (three on carrying duty, two resting from having been on duty earlier today) and say ¡°Tabrok, Larlya¡­¡± naming the pair on rest ¡°¡­you two stay here and guard them¡­ You three can come in but I¡¯ll talk to the old woman¡­ You just wait by the hearth.¡± indicating the three who¡¯ll be more tired and trying hard to ignore the shapes underneath the bark cloths, between me and them. I walk between the smoke hut and the sleeping hut, towards the hearth. As I come into the middle of the settlement, I see a cute, flat face with a tiny nose and a round, bald skull¡­ sucking on a pale breast. I¡¯m so smitten with the little baby that I almost miss his mother asking me ¡°Greetings, Bisonwoman. Is there something I can help you with?¡± with sombreness appropriate for what she knows we¡¯re here for. ¡°Yes¡­ we¡¯re here to see Shamaness Dirleya.¡± I answer. ¡°Of course¡­ If you take a seat by the hearth, I¡¯ll let her know you¡¯re waiting.¡± says the bare chested Eaglewoman, turning to go. I exhale and sit down on one of the log benches that have been arranged by the fire pit. Thankfully for me, they haven¡¯t started cooking for the evening yet, so the fire isn¡¯t putting off much heat right now. I get to cool off a little from the heavy exertion¡­ though I can¡¯t let myself get too comfortable. We still have some distance to go! I notice the stones nestled into the embers of the fire and I roll my eyes ¡­ Of course it would be too much to expect that I could get through one interaction with that woman without her wolfing down a cup of that stuff(!) We¡¯ve been sitting at the fire for a while before the mother comes out of the herb hut holding a set of wooden tongs and, speaking to me, says ¡°The shamaness will see you now.¡± her baby still sucking away at her tit. ¡°Thank you.¡± I say, getting up as the woman bends over the fire and plucks out one of the stones with the tongs. I pull back the door curtain and am greeted by the face of a woman who¡¯s been ancient for as long as I can remember! She wears tight fitting, patchwork leather clothing that fully covers her chest and arms. Eagle down feathers adorn her shoulders and, on her head, she wears a headdress of long, eagle flight feathers, held in place by bone. I¡¯m just in time to see her break off a chunk of dried wormwood and begin grinding it to powder between her fingers in a wooden bowl in her hand. I feel the heat radiating against my flesh as the woman with a baby in one arm passes me by with the other carrying the scorching hot rock. She brings the tongs to the top of another wooden bowl, this one mostly full of drinking water. She drops in the stone and the liquid hisses violently from the heat it¡¯s suddenly been exposed to. The mother disappears, taking the baby and leaving me with the old woman. ¡°Sit.¡± she instructs in a ragged, aged voice, gesturing to the floor. I sit down.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. She lowers herself down to the floor as well, though with some difficulty. She reaches for the hot water. ¡°Must you, Grandmother?¡± I ask, flatly. She stops briefly, turning her (one blind and milky, one sighted and green) eyes to me. ¡°It¡¯s for my arthritis.¡± she lies. I saw the amount she ground up, that was not a medicinal quantity! She pinches the stone and, touching it as briefly as possible, removes it from the hot water, she then takes that bowl and tips its contents into the one with the dried wormwood powder. The bitter smell of the herbal mix stings my nose as it infuses the hot water. Only once she¡¯s satisfied that her drug is preparing does she turn her face back to me and ask ¡°So¡­ who?¡± ¡°Morlu, originally of the Boar Hearthstead, and¡­ Dolut¡­ of the Bison Hearthstead¡­¡± She falters in bringing the liquid to her lips to blow on it. She carefully places the cup back down on the ground in front of her and only then asks ¡°My grandson is dead?¡± ¡°He is, Grandmother.¡± ¡°¡­and your intended too?¡± ¡°Him too, Grandmother.¡± I answer, stoically. ¡°How?¡± ¡°A cavebear¡­ It smelled out our stores in the larder. They died to ensure we didn¡¯t starve when Winter comes.¡± I explain. ¡°Did you at least kill the cavebear?¡± she asks. ¡°No, Grandmother¡­ We drove it off but couldn¡¯t kill it.¡± ¡°I¡­ see¡­¡± she says, allowing herself a moment before continuing ¡°¡­make your requests, Raala.¡± ¡°We ask for thorns from the territory of Golden Eagle Hearthstead and hospitality for the night.¡± I state. ¡°You haven¡¯t asked for access.¡± she observes. ¡°Because you can¡¯t deny us access, Grandmother. That cave isn¡¯t yours.¡± I scowl. ¡°True, true¡­ but the thorns are¡­ the hospitality is¡­ Mine to withhold if I don¡¯t feel my hearthstead is being treated with due respect¡­¡± ¡®Respect¡¯¡­ nothing more than a word old people use when they know they would sound pathetic and petty if they explained what¡¯s actually upset them! How is it ¡®respectful¡¯ to threaten to withhold otherwise useless thorn bushes from your own grandson¡¯s burial!? To threaten his pallbearers with another night of bad rest!? ¡°*sigh*¡­ Please grant us thorns and hospitality and access to the Cave of Bones, Grandmother!¡± I sneer. She lifts the drug concoction to her lips and pauses. ¡°Granted.¡± she says ¡°I¡¯ll see you when you¡¯re finished, Raala.¡± before bringing the vessel to her mouth and tipping back a (far more than healthy) draught of the liquid. I stand up and turn to leave but, before I make it out¡­ ¡°One more thing¡­¡± the old woman stops me ¡°¡­I know you probably weren¡¯t planning to but don¡¯t take the Eastern Passage¡­ The last visitors who came that way informed me that it was showing signs of imminent collapse¡­ You don¡¯t want to get trapped outside the Basin¡­¡± ---later--- I put away my flint sickle and pick up what should be the last of the thorn bushes, careful not to prick my fingers. I bring it to my brother¡¯s stretcher and lay it over the top of his bark cloth shroud. I lift up my end, Tabrok taking the back. We approach the cavemouth, the enormous ice wall that marks the Southeastern boundary of the Great Basin up the mountain behind it, and stop just as Wuurlo and Morsgo are dipping their torches into the pine pitch they¡¯ve melted on a flat stone, over the small fire they started in the pit (there for that purpose). Now coated, they touch the torches to the fire to ignite them. ¡°Everyone remember, if there¡¯s a smell, we don¡¯t mention it, we don¡¯t react to it!¡± I instruct. It doesn¡¯t do to insult the dead¡­ that¡¯s how you get cursed! The two boys light our way with the torches as we enter the cave and begin navigating to the chamber. Strange symbols, most of which I don¡¯t understand, line our way, dancing in the light of the flames. There is, indeed, a smell¡­ as there usually is. Nothing in this world smells as foul as bodies in the advanced stages of decay! Thank Mother Mammoth that the smell seems like it¡¯s a few moons old at least! The last time I was here, I nearly got cursed because of how hard it was to keep from gagging! We pass by the entrance to the Eastern Passage and round the corner into the great, high ceilinged chamber where the dead of Bison, Wolf, Golden Eagle, Boar, Moufflon and Elk Hearthsteads are all interred. Pale white bones glitter through their bark cloth shrouds as the light falls on them. We pick our way through the crowded ossuary to find the spot for Bison¡¯s dead. We set down the palls, remove the thorns and shrouds and push both the men off. Morlu became a Bison when he moved from Boar so he goes here, not in Boar¡¯s space. I know I should be as upset about his death as Dolut¡¯s but¡­ I¡¯m not¡­ Though it makes me incredibly guilty to admit to myself, I¡¯m actually a tiny bit relieved¡­ He definitely wasn¡¯t a bad or evil man¡­ and I definitely didn¡¯t want him to die but¡­ I didn¡¯t want to spend the rest of my life as his woman either! He was so very boring! If I¡¯d ranked my choices of the boys from all six clans, he wouldn¡¯t have been my last pick, but he¡¯d certainly have been closer to the bottom of the list rather than anywhere near the top! For my brother, I¡¯m simply grieving¡­ feeling the agonising emptiness of the loss¡­ For Morlu, though, my feelings are a lot more complicated. Did I manifest this by wishing not to have to have him as my man? Did I curse Morlu to death and was my brother¡¯s death a ripple of that curse? I don¡¯t think I did that¡­ is it possible to wield the power of curses unwittingly? No! ¡­Right? I can wrestle with my guilt later! Right now I have a job to do! No longer rigored, we are able to take the broken off heads of their spears and fasten them into their hands, bring both men¡¯s knees to their chests, wrap their arms around their shins and bind them into that shape, making them look like they¡¯re huddling their legs for warmth in a cold Winter. We wrap them in there shrouds, tightly. Entwining the thorny vines around the cocoons to ward away any scavengers who might enter this cave, we lash them down. Our work done, there¡¯s one final respect to pay. As the sister of one and intended of the other, it¡¯s obviously me who needs to do it. ¡°These were good men¡­¡± I eulogise ¡°¡­they gave their lives to spare us slow deaths. May the Great Eagle carry their spirits to the Forest of Plenty and not drop them into the Maw of the Ravening Wolf. By Mother Mammoth.¡± ¡°By Mother Mammoth.¡± repeat the others in hushed tones. Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Three ---Bwey¡¯s perspective--- I¡¯d never seen snow before we came North. It hadn¡¯t snowed in the 144 Channels since our parents were children! It¡¯s only just the start of Autumn and, so, should still be quite warm but¡­ because we¡¯ve spent nearly a year travelling North and, right now, we¡¯re in a highland region, Northwest of the Thundering Rift, it¡¯s absolutely freezing!¡­ Cold enough that what should be falling as a thick rain is, instead, falling as a heavy snow! Ksem¡¯s only a little more than his own height¡¯s distance in front of me but the space between us is so filled with the cold, white, ash water that I¡¯m actually worried about people getting lost in it if it gets any worse! I made fun of him for his caution at the time but, when we came up these mountains, I suddenly became very glad of all the attention Ksem paid to making sure everyone was equipped with Winter clothes on our way here! My last surviving brother is the only man I know who¡¯s such a specific mix of playful and dependable! He laughs, he jokes, he flirts with the best of them but¡­ when Ksem says anything like ¡®We need Winter furs and tents¡­ enough for everyone. We¡¯re stopping here until we¡¯ve hunted and tailored them.¡¯, people listen to him! He hasn¡¯t steered us wrong since¡­ since it happened¡­ since he became our leader¡­ In contrast to the dark cloud that just settled over my thoughts, the weather picks that moment to clear up! My eyes go wide as the snow subsides and reveals what lies ahead of us. I run forward and point my spear down the valley. ¡°No way!¡± I shout in incredulous delight ¡°There¡¯s no way! Those paleskins told us it would be ten days to cross these mountains! It hasn¡¯t even been six!!!¡± ¡°They don¡¯t have our stamina, Bwey. They¡¯re sprinters. We need to take that into account whenever they give us travel times.¡± observes my brother ¡°Think of Old Red and the gazelles, back home¡­ Think of Torgan¡­ He could sprint down one of those giant antlered deer no problem but remember how exhausted he was by keeping up with us while we travelled together? How much slower we had to go for his sake?¡­ Not that I¡¯m complaining! It gave more people a chance to learn more of the language from him¡­ though, honestly, he seemed almost as exhausted by socialising as he did by walking(!)¡­Oh and, Bwey¡­?¡± ¡°Yeees, brother mine(?)¡± I mock. ¡°Don¡¯t call them ¡®paleskins¡¯¡­ or ¡®fireheads¡¯¡­ or ¡®brutes¡¯, ¡®fat ones¡¯, ¡®shorties¡¯, ¡®log bones¡¯, ¡®thick brows¡¯, ¡®big noses¡¯ or anything else that could be taken as an insult if you squinted at it! You don¡¯t want to get into the habit and do it in front of any of them¡­!¡± ¡°What am I supposed to call them!? They don¡¯t have a name for themselves, other than that word which translates to ¡®people¡¯!¡± I frown up at him. ¡°¡®Locals¡¯ would be my recommendation¡­ though ¡®Strong Ones¡¯ might work well in the long term¡­ After there are people born here who look more like we do.¡± ¡°¡®More like we do¡¯(?) Not just ¡®like we do¡¯(?)¡± I smirk ¡°Sounds like someone¡¯s eying up the ¡®Locals¡¯ for some¡­ extrafriendly relations(!)¡± ¡°And if I am, sister mine(?)¡± he mocks down at me with a cocked brow. I laugh and punch his arm, causing him to stumble through the snow as we walk down towards the open plain between us and the forested hills, visible on the Eastern horizon. Just looking at it, we¡¯ll probably cross the plains and set up our base camp on the edge of that forest. According to Old Red (and corroborated by experience since arriving here) the people of his homeland don¡¯t really use the plains for hunting. They prefer to hunt in hills and forests where there are places to hide, places to sprint out from, places to lay traps and spring ambushes. I remember his eyes boggling when he saw how we hunted and I remember him telling us he¡¯d never seen people hunt that way before he arrived in our homeland! He seemed to think having more stamina than an animal was incredibly impressive(!) He also thought that it was very normal to be able to sprint down a gazelle(!) Hopefully, setting up on the plains will keep us out of trouble with the paleskins. ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- I come out of the hearthstead and hear short, rhythmic screams. I follow the sound a little way out of our settlement before I come across the one I was looking for. ¡°There you are, Larlya¡­¡± I greet the nude woman screaming in pleasure as the left side of her face is forced into the dirt by a strong hand, attached to the largest man in Bison¡­ and maybe in the entire Eastern Plateau! Pleasing ripples propagate through her ample buttocks, lordotically presented below a set of bare abdominals that are powering back and forth behind them. ¡°¡­I know it¡¯s your slow day but I thought I¡¯d invite you anyway¡­ Me, Vounul and Kaamra are going to Mushroom Hill to gather¡­ You want to come?¡­ After you¡¯re done here, obviously!¡± ¡°*hngg*¡­ No¡­*hrnk*¡­ thanks¡­*ah**ah**ah*¡­ Raala¡­*hmh*¡­ I¡¯m¡­*ohf*¡­ too¡­*hooo*¡­ tired¡­*hhh*¡­ from¡­*hhhng*¡­ carr¡­y¡­ing¡­*ah*¡­ that¡­*mmm*¡­ roe¡­*haaah*¡­ dee-hmmmf¡­¡± at this point, Wuurlo shifts his hand to cover her mouth, stifling her speech.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°No more talking¡­ I¡¯m almost there¡­ It¡¯s distracting¡­ She¡¯s not coming¡­ to Mushroom Hill¡­¡± he says, impressively unwinded for someone who¡¯s been fucking so fiercely for as long as I can infer him to have been. I watch, amused, as the two of them climax together and their (hers stifled, his not) screams of ecstasy echo out across the forest. The man collapses off of Larlya, to the side, who drops her rear to the ground now that it isn¡¯t required to be raised. ¡°Your man has a really stupid looking O-face, Larlya(!)¡± I smirk. She bursts out into giggles, despite her exhaustion. ¡°Don¡¯t care¡­*hhhh*¡­ Had sex!¡± he pants, his own exertion finally having asserted itself. I laugh before saying ¡°¡­OK, hope to see your belly swell soon, Larlya. See you both tomorrow and we¡¯ll have venison an mushroom skewers together!¡± The two exhausted lovers each raise a hand and limply wave ¡°Bye¡­¡± ---later--- The tunes of Vounul¡¯s bone flute echo through the sparse forest at the Western end of Bison territory (near where our lands border the plains) while I carry our spears and several woven baskets. I smile at Kaamra as she dances to her intended¡¯s tune. She¡¯s a relatively new addition to Bison Hearthstead. I¡¯m glad she¡¯s settling in OK. Unusually, she didn¡¯t come here from any of the other five clans of the Eastern Plateau! She came here from Rabbit Hearthstead, across the plains, rounding the Northern end of the mountains. There¡¯s apparently a dearth of men in the region at the moment so she came with her uncle and five other girls to find partners here and ask whether any of our men might be willing to come back with him. No Bison boys left with him but I¡¯m fairly certain he¡¯ll have had some interest from the other clans(!) Pretty sure ¡®Please! Our clans have no men!¡¯ is a phrase a lot of boys go to sleep fantasising about hearing(!) My heart sinks as, unbidden, the complicated mix of guilt, relief and dread surrounding Morlu¡¯s death floats to the surface of my mind, like his corpse appearing from the depths below the clear ice of a frozen lake. He¡¯s barely been dead for two moons and my dad¡¯s already been pressuring me to let him start searching for someone new to make my intended. A clan always needs new blood to carry it on but¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­ I¡¯ve visited all the other Hearthsteads and¡­ I just don¡¯t think there¡¯s anyone for me in any of them¡­ There was a boy in Moufflon that seemed promising, a few years back¡­ We got as far as almost kissing when our noses told us something was up¡­ Doublechecking our genealogy revealed what we had already guessed¡­ he was my half cousin¡­ That spear landed just slightly wide! It was a terrible shame¡­ Kordau was such a good match otherwise but knowing his mother¡¯s father and my father¡¯s father were the same man just put both of us right off eachother! No use going West across the plains, already know they don¡¯t have enough men out there! Maybe crossing the Ice Wall by way of the Cave of Bones might find me a boy who¡¯d suit my tastes¡­ An exotic boy from outside the Great Basin(!) Yeah¡­ maybe not¡­(!) Even if the Eastern Passage were safely passable it would probably be more than a moon me and whoever was chaperoning me¡¯d have to be gone from Bison, just to check! Too long¡­ If the Great Elk sees fit, I¡¯m sure He¡¯ll lead the man meant to be mine to me(!) For the moment, I¡¯m happy to just remain unattached¡­ just means I need to deal with my dad¡¯s nagging about it! Just as I¡¯m thinking that, the path opens out into a wide glade. The Autumn ground is thick with mushrooms. Most are edible but I also see the white spotted bright reds of dreamcap and (though I can¡¯t see any from where I¡¯m standing) I know that visionshrooms also grow here, especially in the dung of any aurochs or bison that may have passed through recently! ¡°Alright, you two!¡± I say, cutting off my clansman¡¯s tune, placing down the baskets and leaning our weapons up against a tree ¡°I¡¯m leaving our spears here, so this is where we run if anything ugly shows up!¡­ We¡¯ll gather for a bit but then we need to set up shelter and get a fire going. We¡¯ll do a bit more gathering tomorrow morning and then head back. These baskets¡­¡± I gesture to the large ones ¡°¡­are for edibles, this¡­¡± I gesture to the single medium sized one ¡°¡­is for medicinals and this¡­¡± I indicate the smallest ¡°¡­is for recreationals! Do not let me catch either of you trying to hide more recreationals than that in the other baskets or your clothes!¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know I was joining a clan of such frosty, earthbound stonehearts(!)¡± teases Kaamra, flush faced and out of breath from the dance, eyeing the small basket. Matching the pretty girl¡¯s tease, I answer ¡°I don¡¯t know how you did things out West, Kaamra, but, here, we find that a clan that spends all its time flying in the clouds tends to do a bad job of dealing with more earthly matters¡­ you know¡­ like feeding itself(!)¡± She pouts at me and I smirk back. ¡°Of course¡­ if you don¡¯t like the way we do things here you could always go home(?) Fly to your heart¡¯s content in the land of no men(!)¡± ¡°No, no! I¡¯ll be a good little abstemious girl(!)¡± she flirts. ¡°Yes, you will(!)¡± I flirt back. ¡°Yo(!) I can go back to the hearthstead if I¡¯m just an unlit torch here(!) Give you girls some privacy(!)¡± jokes Vounul. ¡°Don¡¯t pretend you wouldn¡¯t want to watch(!)¡± teases Kaamra. Vounul¡¯s face screws up in disgust and he says ¡°Eww!¡­ Gross!¡­ Not with Raala!¡­ If you wanted to find a girl who¡¯s a little less related to me to mess around with then I¡¯d love to watch!¡± ¡°Alright¡­ why don¡¯t we talk about spicing up you two¡¯s (as yet nonexistent) sex life after we¡¯re done working, hmmm(?)¡± ¡°Alright, killjoy(!)¡± sighs Kaamra. The three of us set to work gathering. The Westerner quickly fills up the recreational basket, causing me to wryly observe ¡°You know you won¡¯t get shitfaced any quicker for picking those ones first, right(?)¡± She responds by miming cunnilingus at me on her fingers to let me know what she thinks of that fact(!) I laugh, shake my head and go back to my own gathering. Some time passes as the three of us work. We¡¯ve been picking mushrooms for maybe a tenth of the sunlight when the wind changes. All three of us freeze in place¡­ stand up¡­ and share looks of alarm with eachother. Drifting to our ears on the Westerly wind is an impossible sound! Drums! So many drums it¡¯s a wonder we couldn¡¯t hear them before the wind changed! More drums than I¡¯ve ever heard in my life! And they sound¡­ strange¡­ off¡­ Completely unlike the ones we make in the Great Basin! How!? There¡¯s nothing out that way but plains! Plains where there¡¯s little forage and animals can see you coming from the edge of the horizon! Beyond the plains, mountains! Even less survivable! Why would that many people be crossing the plains all at once!? Are they here to fight? Those don¡¯t really sound like the drums of strife¡­ and I can¡¯t think of anyone we¡¯ve pissed off that badly any time recently! Something changes in the other two¡¯s faces as well as on mine. Wordlessly, all three of us go to the tree where I left our spears propped to rearm ourselves. I gesture towards the brow of the hill between us and those drums and we begin silently treading towards it, our eyes and ears keen and our weapons braced in our hands. Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Four ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- I carefully raise my head above the ridgeline, just far enough to get line of sight. My eyes go wide at what I see. People¡­ hundreds of them! More than I¡¯ve ever seen in one place! Maybe more than I¡¯ve seen in my entire life! Several times all those in the six clans! Maybe as many as live in the entire Basin!¡­ Which is obviously not where they¡¯ve come from! Their tents are arranged in rows with lines of space left empty between them for people to walk down. There are dozens of hearths strewn about these bizarre people¡¯s camp, one enormous one at the very centre, around which many people dance strange, unfamiliar dances to the sounds of strange, unfamiliar instruments backed by the synchronised beat of many strange, unfamiliar drums! The song¡¯s lyrics, though the wind is carrying them to me clearly, are complete gibberish¡­ marking the first time I¡¯ve ever heard another people¡¯s language. I¡­ say ¡®people¡¯ but¡­ ¡°I¡¯ve never seen people that look like that!¡± whispers Vounul, finishing my thought while matching my posture, concealment and alarm ¡°Have they all painted their skin that colour? Have they all dyed their hair?¡± ¡°Am I imagining it or do their bodies¡­ not look right somehow?¡± asks Kaamra ¡°It¡¯s a little difficult to tell with all of them so heavily dressed but¡­ No, look!¡± she turns her head and gestures through the hill to a small band, leaving the enormous camp and heading North, some but not all holding spears ¡°Those ones¡¯re stripped down to fewer layers for some reason¡­ Look how skinny they are!¡± ¡°Why are they so heavily dressed? It¡¯s Autum! Aren¡¯t they boiling!? And why are they camped up on the plains when they¡¯re so close to the woods?¡± queries Vounul. ¡°Never mind any of that!¡± I say, not whispering since I know that there¡¯s no way a low speaking volume is going to be able to carry that far against the wind ¡°Who are they and why, by the fucking Maw, are they here!? Kaamra¡­ you¡¯re from the West¡­ You ever heard of people like this?¡± ¡°Never!¡± she denies, taking my lead on the volume ¡°Like¡­ I know there¡¯s a clan on the far side of the Basin that¡¯s, like, one third brunets but¡­ other than that, they just look like us! Not like these guys! These guys aren¡¯t like anything I know! They¡¯re not from the Basin!¡± ¡°So what do they want here¡­?¡± asks Vounul, still whispering. ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ but it¡¯s nothing good!¡± I observe ¡°We¡¯re heading back to the hearthstead¡­ Right now!¡­ I know we¡¯re tired but we can¡¯t risk staying out here and getting found by them tonight! Let¡¯s split up¡­ Vounul, you head back South. Kaamra, straight back. I¡¯ll take the North route.¡± ¡°Wait¡­ Split up!?¡± says Kaamra, incredulously ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we stay together for protection?¡± ¡°No. Our safety is less important than getting this news home right now. If we stick together and run into ten of them, they kill us and Bison and the other clans never know they¡¯re here until it¡¯s too late! Splitting up gives us the best chance that at least one of us makes it back to warn them!¡± I explain. ¡°Right¡­¡± she answers, not sounding happy about it. ¡°We taking the mushrooms we already got?¡± asks Vounul. The question stops me in my tracks as I consider if it¡¯s worth abandoning the work we¡¯ve already done. ¡°Yes¡­¡± I finally decide. There¡¯s no sense wasting work, afterall ¡°¡­we take them¡­ but we throw them away the moment we see any of them or think we may be being followed!¡± The other two grunt their agreement and I gesture for us to get down from the hill. We climb back down to the glade. Divvying up the half full baskets first, we break from eachother. Vounul heads South. His intended woman heads directly back along the route we came by. I head North, along what¡¯s going to be the most circuitous route, carrying my spear in my left hand and the baskets, nested into eachother, in my offhand. It isn¡¯t worth running unless I get chased. I¡¯m going to be tired enough when I get back from doing what should have been a two day round trip in one! No sense making myself more tired for no reason! With three of us making the trip separately, I¡¯d say the message is almost guaranteed to make it back to Bison. Nevertheless, I quickly find my feet moving much faster than my normal walking pace. Apprehension builds in my belly as my feet move faster and faster. I¡¯m almost running when I see him! I skid to a stop and drop the mushroom baskets, taking my spear in both hands and pointing it at his chest. I¡¯m on the verge of panic right now! Stepping into my path from behind a rock is the single tallest man I¡¯ve ever seen¡­ by a lot! When the baby faced man notices me, he starts and throws up his hands (one empty, one holding a weird, carved, bent stick with a string tied tight between its ends), staring at me, his dark pupiled eyes wide. He¡¯s nearly a head taller than Wuurlo and a head, neck and shoulders taller than me! His body is buried in a frankly ludicrously thick layer of clothes given the time of year and, still, he¡¯s so skinny that I can easily tell it through his clothing! His legs are long. His feet are entirely enclosed in fur shoes and way too narrow! On the ends of the skinniest wrists I¡¯ve ever seen are a pair of slender, long and straight fingered hands, like he¡¯s been hung up by the fingertips and they¡¯ve stretched out along with the rest of his body. His dainty featured, dark skinned face looks almost exactly like a baby¡¯s; flat, no cheeks, no brow, a vertical forehead and a small nose. On the other hand, his completely unsheltered, brown eyes are way too small for even an adult, let alone a baby! That, and he¡¯s got a weird little prong that juts out from the front of his tall, narrow bottom jaw. He bends, slowly, to place his large, carved, curved stick and a long bag of smaller, feathered sticks down on the ground. As he turns his head, I can see that his dozens of charcoal black¡­ hair ropes (?) are tied way too far forward at the back of his skull¡­ in a space that should be filled with bone! His whole baby-round head is way too tall in the top to bottom line, way too narrow on the side to side line, and way too short on the front to back line! The bizarre looking man straightens back up and¡­ smiles at me!? Does a smile mean something else to these people¡­ or does he know something I don¡¯t!? I¡¯ve got a spear pointed at him and he¡¯s unarmed! Why is he smiling?! He steps forward on his long right leg, rolling his hips in a weird, striding, alien gait as he walks towards me. My terror blazes as he approaches. I shout ¡°STAY BACK!¡± while giving my spear a few menacing jabs forward. The strange man doesn¡¯t react at all, simply continuing his approach. Of course he doesn¡¯t speak my language! Fear paralyses me as I¡¯m crushed between the risks of killing him and bringing down the anger of hundreds of his kinfolk, or not killing him¡­ which case, he just does whatever he¡¯s going to do to me! I could run but, with those long legs and that straight stride, he looks like he¡¯d easily outrun and catch me! He doesn¡¯t look that substantial¡­ maybe I could fight him off without killing him? Then again, with the confidence he¡¯s approaching me (the only lipservice he¡¯s paying to the fact that I¡¯ve got a weapon trained on him being his palms raised to the left and right of his uncanny head) he doesn¡¯t seem to think I¡¯m any threat! As he draws near, I smell an unfamiliar (but not unpleasant) sour tang on the air, which I¡¯m guessing is his scent. He stops a (long) arm¡¯s length away from the tip of my spear and slowly reaches down with a long, slender right thumb and forefinger to pinch the very end of my flint spearhead. All I¡¯d have to do to kill him is thrust forward¡­ but I don¡¯t¡­ Then, the lanklet shocks me by opening his mouth and, in accented but otherwise flawless Basinspeak, saying ¡°If you¡¯re aiming for my heart, Sunbeam¡­¡± redirecting my speartip from the middle of his torso to his top left ¡°¡­it¡¯s right here¡­ but, I¡¯m afraid to tell you¡­ you¡¯ve already struck it(!)¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. My face twists in confusion at the strange not-quite-man¡¯s comprehensible but baffling words. I¡¯ve already struck his heart?! What does that mean!?!?!? I haven¡¯t even lunged for him yet and he¡¯s standing here on his feet the way no creature could be with a pierced heart! ¡°What are you talking about!?¡± I scowl up into the face looming over me. He wags his head from side to side, screwing up his eyes and puffing a single breath before answering ¡°Just a joke, Sunbeam¡­ I thought I¡¯d lighten the mood a little¡­ since you seem to be a bit tense right now(!)¡± with a confident smile. ¡°It wasn¡¯t very funny¡­ this joke of yours!¡± I snarl back at the rope haired man while my heart beats faster than his people¡¯s drums. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about that!¡± he smiles with effortless charm that has no effect at all on me ¡°My name is Ksem¡­ It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you!¡± He brings his right palm forward towards me, fingers pointed to the sky, seeming to be expecting something. We stand opposite eachother in silence for several long moments, him with his hand extended, me with my spear pointed at his chest. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± I finally ask, twitching my spear to his hand to indicate it. ¡°A greeting¡­¡± he beams ¡°¡­Among my people, it¡¯s the custom for one person to introduce themself and extend their palm. The second meets the palm with their own and gives their name in reply¡­ I¡¯ve given you my name¡­¡± ¡°I¡¯m not giving you my name and I¡¯m not taking either hand off my spear!¡± I interrupt, angrily. He withdraws the hand and playfully shrugs ¡°¡®Sunbeam¡¯ it is then(!)¡± I don¡¯t answer. Silence reigns. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ sure you have questions?¡± he finally suggests. ¡°How do you know I¡¯ve got questions?¡± I growl back. ¡°Well¡­ it¡¯s quite natural that you would?¡­ Most of your people that I¡¯ve met on my way here had questions when they first met us. I¡¯m¡­ guessing you¡¯ve never seen people that look like me before, have you?¡± ¡°Fine¡­ I¡¯ve got questions!¡± I admit. Bobbing his uncanny babyface up and down this time, he says ¡°And I will happily answer all of them¡­ but would you mind pointing your spear somewhere else first?¡± ¡°Yes! I do mind! I¡¯m keeping this pointed at you for if I don¡¯t like the answers I hear!¡± I glare up at him. He extends his palms away to the sides and invites ¡°Alright¡­ that¡¯s fair enough¡­ Ask your questions.¡± I narrow my eyes at him, thinking. ¡°What are you?¡± I begin. ¡°I¡¯m a person¡­ I¡¯m just a person from a long way away and, as you can see, I look quite different from what you¡¯re used to¡­ I¡¯m not a spirit, I¡¯m not a monster, I¡¯m not an animal¡­ If you cut me I will bleed¡­ the same colour as you.¡± he smiles. ¡°If that¡¯s true, why are you so calm about having a spear pointed at where you say your heart is?!¡± He actually laughs at that, unnerving me, before explaining ¡°Oh, Sunbeam¡­ you¡¯re far from the first person to point a weapon at me in the last year¡­ At some point, I guess you just get used to it¡­ You come to understand that, if anything, panicking makes you more likely to get stabbed(!)¡± I give a grunt of acknowledgement before moving on, to ask ¡°Are all your people so tall?¡± gesturing him up and down with my spear. He smiles again and shakes his head from side to side ¡°No¡­ most are taller than your people but I¡¯m quite tall, even for them¡­ Most men would be about this tall¡­¡± he gestures a little more than halfway down his head to a height that¡¯s still several fingerwidths taller than Vounul ¡°¡­and most women about this tall.¡± dropping his hand to a little above his shoulder but still more than half a head taller than me. ¡°OK¡­ Next question: What are your people doing here?¡± ¡°They¡¯re here because I led them here.¡± he answers, simply. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­?¡± I sneer ¡°You led them here?! How old are you!?¡± Honestly, with his baby head and his lankily proportioned body, I¡¯ve got basically nothing to go on to judge his age but, just from the smoothness of his skin, I wouldn¡¯t say he¡¯s that old! ¡°I¡¯m 25 Winters old¡­ Though my people would phrase that as ¡®25 floods¡¯.¡± he smiles. My age¡­ that¡¯s a bit surprising¡­ but I don¡¯t know what answer wouldn¡¯t have been! ¡°Why would so many people follow someone so young here from so far?!¡± His eyes sink to the floor and pain briefly passes over his face before he responds ¡°That¡¯s¡­ a complicated question to answer but¡­ briefly¡­ we didn¡¯t really have a choice¡­ We lost our homeland¡­¡± I snort ¡°Not very good with directions if you can lose something as big and important as your homeland, are you(!)¡± With a sombre smile, he wags his face again and says ¡°No¡­ Not like that¡­ We know where it is¡­ we just can¡¯t go back¡­¡± ¡°Why not?¡± I growl. ¡°Because others decided that they deserved our homeland more than we did¡­ We wouldn¡¯t stand a chance of taking it back from them¡­¡± I spend a long time trying to understand that before asking ¡°And¡­ is that what you¡¯ve come to do to us? Push us out of our lands the way you were pushed out of yours?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Then what are you here to do!? You still haven¡¯t answered that!¡± He frowns, seeming to be mulling over how to answer before asking ¡°Your people¡­ as I understand¡­ don¡¯t use the plains for much, is that correct?¡­ You view them as little better than mountains¡­? Just a obstacle to getting around¡­?¡± ¡°Obviously!¡± I scoff ¡°You can¡¯t hunt on plains! Prey see you coming from the horizon and just run away!¡± ¡°You¡­ can¡¯t hunt on plains¡­¡± he corrects, mirthfully ¡°¡­but my people don¡¯t hunt like yours do¡­ We can¡¯t really hunt in forests very well because prey has too many places to hide from us¡­ We prefer the plains¡­¡± ¡°Do I look stupid!?¡± I snarl ¡°You expect me to believe that anyone could survive on the plains?! Let alone a clan of hundreds!!!¡± Unphased, he answers ¡°Whether you believe me or not doesn¡¯t change the fact that what I¡¯m telling you is true.¡± ¡°How?!¡± I demand ¡°How could your hunting be so different from ours that you can¡¯t hunt in forests but can hunt on plains?!¡± He frowns, thoughtfully¡­ I think thoughtfully anyway, and asks ¡°When you and your people hunt, you sprint down prey before they have a chance to run away from you, right?¡± ¡°Obviously!¡± I scowl ¡°How else could you do it!?¡± ¡°Well¡­ My people can¡¯t run that fast¡­¡± Confused, I look down at his long legs. He smiles ¡°Ha! Yes, you¡¯re not the first to be confused by longer legs making us slower runners but, I promise you, if you and I ran a race to that footprint back there¡­¡± he gestures to the path behind him, implying that not only has he seen the charcoal black Bison marker, he knows its significance ¡°¡­you¡¯d win!¡­ Us having long legs seems like it makes us better long distance runners than sprinters¡­ That¡¯s why we prefer hunting on plains.¡± I narrow my eyes at him and ask ¡°So you¡­ What? Exhaust your prey to death?!¡± sceptically. He shrugs his shoulders ¡°Basically¡­ yes. We run until what we¡¯re chasing can¡¯t keep running from us¡­ then we kill it.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t believe you!¡± I sneer ¡°No one can run that long!¡± He gives a patronising smile and answers ¡°You remind me of an old friend¡­ He couldn¡¯t believe it when he saw how my people hunted either!¡­ Of course, to us, seeing the way he hunted was the unbelievable thing! If you want a demonstration, I¡¯d be happy for you to see it firsthand?¡± Not answering that, I ask ¡°You saw the footprint, you know what it means¡­¡± jabbing my spear in that direction ¡°¡­why are you trespassing on Bison territory?¡± His eyebrows raise up his flat forehead as he asks ¡°My understanding was that it isn¡¯t trespassing so long as it¡¯s a small group and we either don¡¯t take anything or, if we do, we bring a third of whatever we kill or gather to your hearthstead to offer you? That was the way it worked in the lands South of the Basin¡­ Is it different here?¡± I glare at him for a few moments before answering ¡°No¡­ It¡¯s the same¡­ Groups not larger than twelve with the Due as a third of all hunted or gathered while passing through.¡± through gritted teeth. He points to himself with an infuriatingly flippant smile and states ¡°I¡¯m just one person¡­ and I¡¯ve taken nothing, so I owe nothing¡­¡± ¡°So why are you here then!?¡± I spit ¡°I¡¯m sure your people aren¡¯t so different from mine that you can¡¯t see how posting up, right on the edge of my hearthstead¡¯s territory, with a camp of what looks like hundreds is alarming, are you!?¡± He wags his face ¡°No, no! We do understand and, even if we hadn¡¯t, the hearthsteads we passed on our way here made it very clear!¡­ We really didn¡¯t mean to frighten you! We¡¯ve just set up camp here so we can introduce ourselves to our new neighbours!¡± he extends both his empty palms down my spear shaft to me, beaming. ¡°¡­Neighbours?¡± I ask with dawning dread. ¡°Yes¡­ We¡¯re moving onto the plains, just there¡­ At least for the next year or two¡­ After that, we might go to the other plain I¡¯m told there is in the West of the Basin¡­ We¡¯ll be living next to you¡­ that makes us your neighbours and, hopefully, your friends¡­!¡± ¡°And¡­ do we get a say in whether you become our neighbours or not, outlander!¡± The nervous smile on his babyface drops into a wounded frown as he asks ¡°Do you need one?¡± ¡°Yes!¡­ When a clan wants to reestablish themselves in a new place, they would normally spend several seasons making sure all their new potential neighbours were willing to allow it and making sure all their old ones knew where they¡¯d gone in case anyone came looking for them! And that would be for a clan of twenty to thirty! Not however many you¡¯ve got!¡± He looks at the sky for a moment, thinking ¡°Well, the second part of that isn¡¯t relevant to us¡­ For the first part, correct me if I¡¯m wrong but¡­ isn¡¯t it that the approvals need to be acquired to prevent misunderstandings leading to conflict? Things like¡­ moving into territory that¡¯s already been claimed or earmarked? Moving into territory that¡¯s held in common between clans? If your people don¡¯t use the plains, then do we need you¡¯re approval to use them?¡± I give a long puff between my lips before admitting ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know! The rules don¡¯t really cover this kind of situation! I honestly have no idea what the procedure is for people moving onto plains because people don¡¯t move onto plains!¡± Extending his arms to the side, he suggests ¡°Then¡­ perhaps we can make our own rules? That¡¯s surely how the rules get made, right? Things happening that haven¡¯t happened before?¡± ¡°Who¡¯s the ¡®we¡¯ in that sentence, outlander?!¡± I snarl, suspicious. ¡°Oh¡­ sorry¡­ Your people and mine¡­ I¡¯m sure we can work something out that would satisfy everyone?¡± he says with what looks like a hopeful smile. ¡°What is there to work out? With so many of you back there, it¡¯s not like you¡¯ll just go if we ask you, is it!¡± I point out. ¡°No¡­ that¡¯s not true¡­ You have some leverage on us¡­ There are things we need from you that, if you¡¯re not willing to trade with us, we¡¯ll need to take our offer elsewhere¡­¡± he muses. ¡°Trade?¡­ Offer?¡­ If you¡¯ve got something to say then spit it out! What¡¯s our leverage?¡± I sneer. ¡°Well¡­ as I understand¡­¡± ---Kroln¡¯s perspective--- My one remaining hand grips the knife made from the tooth of the beast that took my other, stained with the blood of the roe deer I was taking apart when I was interrupted. All of Bison currently in the hearthstead are gathered here, looking on. I glare from the boy to the girl, both looking at me with frantic expressions. ¡°One¡­ more¡­ time¡­¡± I growl. Immediately, they both begin speaking over eachother, both rendering the other¡¯s words incomprehensible. ¡°One at a time!¡± I demand, furiously. They both fall silent. ¡°*sigh*¡­Vounul! Explain!¡± ¡°There were hundreds of strange looking people camped on the plain at the Western edge of Bison territory! They were tall and skinny! They had brown skin and black hair. They had¡­¡± ¡°Where is my daughter, Vounul¡­ Kaamra!?¡­ Where is Raala!?!?!?¡± The boy is too stunned to speak so the Westerner answers ¡°She¡­ said we should¡­ split up¡­ That one of us needed to make it back¡­ to warn you¡­ She went North¡­ When I found Vounul, we waited for her at the end of the Northern path but¡­ when she didn¡¯t come¡­ we got scared¡­ We thought they might¡¯ve got her¡­ We decided it was better to come here to warn everyone instead of keeping on waiting¡­¡± ashamed. ¡°How long¡­ did you¡­ wait?¡± I ask, cold dread welling up in my belly. ¡°Er¡­ it was at least a twentieth of the sunlight¡­¡± answers Vounul, desolately. There is a long moment of silence. ¡°Everyone grab a weapon.¡± I order, chilled ¡°We¡¯re going to-¡± ¡°WAAAAAIT!!!¡± a shouted voice comes from the West. Relief washes over me as I sheath the still bloody knife at my hip and rush to the girl who¡¯s just appearing through the huts. ¡°RAALA!!!¡± I shout, my anger and dread audible in my voice and my relief not. I run to her, barging those in my way aside. She stands, holding her spear in one hand and some baskets partway full of mushrooms in the other. That¡¯s reassuring¡­ Nothing so bad happened to her that she wasn¡¯t able to keep the mushrooms at least! Sternly, I say ¡°Raala!¡­ The others are saying there are hundreds of strange people on the plains! What kept you!? I thought you must¡¯ve been seen by them!¡± ¡°I was¡­¡± she admits ¡°¡­I met one on the way back¡­ a man.¡± ¡°Did he hurt you?¡± I ask, immediately ¡°Did he try?!¡± ¡°No, dad¡­ He didn¡¯t¡­ We just talked¡­ Then he went his way and I went mine.¡± ¡°You talked?¡± I frown. ¡°Yes, dad¡­ He¡­ he says he¡¯s their leader¡­ He¡¯s asked to talk to you¡­ They have an offer they want to make us¡­¡± she frowns, clearly not fully trusting the words she¡¯s saying. ¡°An¡­ offer?¡± I question. Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Five ---Kroln¡¯s perspective--- My scowling daughter and I step out of the forest with the two men of Wolf and the man and woman of Moufflon, walking towards the alarming camp of hundreds! I¡¯ve never seen anything like it! It¡¯s just as they said; unfamiliar, alien designs, sounds and people¡­ if they even are people and not something¡­ else¡­ I feel more anxious approaching this gathering (larger and stronger than any I¡¯ve ever joined or heard of) than I would if I were facing a full pack of wolves alone! I feel an itch that I can¡¯t scratch in the hand I don¡¯t have anymore as we draw near. Seeing the unnerving, flat faces of these aliens turning as they notice us at the edge of their encampment, my stomach swoops like I¡¯ve dived off of a tall rock into a river! As the six of us draw close, the few we saw quickly lose interest and return to their work. I suppose, if what Raala told me of what their leader told her is accurate, they¡¯ve been walking for a year to get here and, most of that time, in our people¡¯s lands¡­ They¡¯ve had a long time to get used to our looks¡­ Still, they seem at ease with us in a way I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll ever be with them¡­ It maybe helps their comfort that we are only six to their hundreds! Easy to feel safe in those kinds of numbers! We come between the tents and all but my daughter get our first up close look at the eery, dark skinned folks. They¡¯re so¡­ flat! Tall, I was prepared for! Slim? Sure, no problem! The dark skin, the black hair, the uncanny babyfaces, the chin prongs¡­ all about what I was expecting from what Raala said but¡­ those flat faces and flat torsos? The flatness visible even through their unseasonably thick clothes? It makes me more uncomfortable than anything else here! My mind tells me no creature should be able to live with that little space in its chest for its lungs, heart and stomach! At that moment, a woman notices us. Grinning a manic grin and bearing a mouthful of miniscule teeth, she strides towards us in a weird, rolling gait, her heels striking the ground first and her foot rocking along its length to push off an arc of toes. ¡°Hi hi! Bwey! You here for brother?¡± asks the slim, curly black haired woman (as tall as Wuurlo!) holding her right palm up with the fingers pointed skywards, close enough to me for her pleasant, sour tang to reach my nose. I match the gesture with my remaining hand and hers closes the distance to press into it. Mother Mammoth! I feel her heat against my palm! She¡¯s like a fire rock! Why do they need to wrap up like this when they¡¯re naturally so warm!? ¡°Kroln.¡± I introduce myself ¡°Your brother is ¡®Ksem¡¯? The leader?¡± I ask. ¡°Yes yes! Ksem is brother! I take you him now!¡± chatters the woman from lands so far I¡¯ve never even heard tell of them! ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- I pick up the flake of glossy stone the locals call ¡®obsidian¡¯. Bringing it to my face, I press it to my jaw. Sliding it through the lubricating layer of fat, I begin to peel away the stubble that¡¯s accumulated over the last few days. It takes a while but, right as I¡¯m about to finish, I hear Bwey¡¯s voice from outside the tent. ¡°Ksem? The locals are here to see you¡­ Shall I bring them in?¡± Shit¡­ ¡°One moment, Bwey¡­ I¡¯m just finishing washing and shaving! I¡¯ll come out when I¡¯ve got my top back on!¡± I answer, hurriedly scraping off the last of my stubble. I put down the black stone blade and run a hand over my lower face. Not feeling any patches I¡¯ve missed, I splash some water over the razorburned area, grab a buckskin towel to dry off, then get properly dressed. I stand and walk to the door. I pull back the curtain to see six of the pale skinned, redheaded (bar one brunet), green eyed locals. All of them start back from me and go wide eyed as I draw up to my full height; a full head taller than the brunet with the broken nose and face scars, the tallest among them. Standing at the front, beside Bwey, is an austere looking man, about 50 floods old, with a missing hand, a visible, receding chin, a thick moustache and sideburns and a dagger made of a long, sharp tooth at his hip. Just behind him is the woman I met the other day, utter disdain on her face now as it was then. Behind the locals stand Qrez (allowing what a waste of time he thinks it is to negotiate with our new neighbours to be fully visible to any who care to look) and Kseley, doing a slightly better job of looking respectful. ¡°Friends!¡± I beam down at the six with every scrap of warmth I have in me to give them ¡°I¡¯m delighted you¡¯ve come! I am Ksem and I welcome you to my people¡¯s camp!¡­ Is this all six clans of the Eastern Plateau represented here?¡± extending my right hand to the stern man. He frowns up at me, slowly bringing the palm of his only hand to meet mine while maintaining unblinking eyecontact. ¡°No¡­ it isn¡¯t¡­¡± he starts ¡°¡­only three clans are represented¡­ Who told you there were six? Not my daughter, surely?¡± gesturing to the pretty, scowling, freckled woman I met before. ¡°Ah! So you are the Sunbeam¡¯s father, are you? It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you¡­ erm¡­ May I have a name?¡± ¡°Kroln of Bison Clan¡­ Now answer the question.¡± he says simply, letting me know that my charm is as ineffective on him as it was on his daughter(!) ¡°Well, Kroln, it wasn¡¯t your daughter, no¡­ I actually learned it from an old friend, unfortunately no longer with us¡­ the same man I learned about the Basin itself from, actually!¡­ Though, his information will be about as old as I am by now so I¡¯m glad it¡¯s still accurate! Would you like to come inside? We can talk and I can answer all of the many questions I¡¯m sure you have!¡± I stand aside and extend my left hand into the Main Tent. The one handed man hesitates one more moment before walking forward. The younger five follow his lead and Kseley and Qrez file in last. Bwey¡¯s about to come in when I hold out my hand and, in a low tone, ask ¡°Could you find Eshker and Zgrizeh and bring them here?¡± Her curious expression morphs into a smirk as she realises why I want them. She nods and turns to walk off, looking around to find the pair. I turn to see Qrez on the right (my left) of my place, Kseley on the left and the six uneasy looking locals arranged around the small firepit beneath the skylight. I walk to the far side of the tent, rounding the backs of the brunet, the girl who isn¡¯t Sunbeam and Qrez. Qrez and Kseley aren¡¯t looking at me as I go but the other six all follow me with their gaze. I sit down in my seat and look out, across the fire, at the people I¡¯m hoping to make friends and allies of. I smile warmly. ¡°So¡­ I am Ksem, as I¡¯ve said, and I am the leader of the people of the Great River Delta¡­ This is Qrez. He is our chief¡­ hunter¡­¡± I hesitate over the inexact nature of the translation of Qrez¡¯s actual position, made necessary by this language¡¯s lack of a word for ¡®warrior¡¯ ¡°¡­and this is Kseley, our medicine woman and spiritual advisor¡­ I know Kroln of Bison Clan, the rest of you would be¡­?¡± ¡°Kordau of Moufflon Clan.¡± states the scarfaced brunet. ¡°Lashra of Moufflon Clan.¡± follows the tiny, timid little redhead girl, causing Qrez¡¯s head to twitch to her. ¡°Vortlug of Wolf Clan.¡± says one of the two young men at the far side of the circle, nearest the door. ¡°Mogratro of Wolf Clan.¡± provides the other. My attention rests finally on Sunbeam, the only one who hasn¡¯t given her name yet. A moment more¡¯s hesitation follows before she truculently relents ¡°Raala¡­ of Bison Clan.¡± sneering and not meeting my eyes. ¡°Wonderful!¡­ Fine names all!¡± I beam, ignoring her antagonistic attitude before gesturing to the man on my right and the woman on my left ¡°Now, I¡¯m afraid these two here don¡¯t yet speak much of your language, so I¡¯ll be the one you¡¯ll be talking to. I apologise in advance for any time I need to spend consulting with them in my language during this meeting¡­ Shall we start with your questions for me?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± growls the oldest man ¡°Where are you from? You said ¡®the Great River Delta¡¯? I¡¯ve been to the mouth of the Great River¡­ The people there did not look like you¡­ I have to assume, if your people had taken up residence there any time in the last 30 Winters, word of that would have reached here by now!¡± ¡°Ah! Yes, I see¡­¡± I say, reaching behind me for a painted plank of wood.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. I bring it in front of me and orient it with the ? star mark at the top, the painted side facing toward my audience. I see frowns of confusion replaced by looks of alarm as they recognise the shape of the chalky ring beneath the star and, from that, understand the scale of the map. I begin explaining ¡°Sooo¡­ this isn¡¯t going to be perfect¡­ but it¡¯s a rough representation of the world as we know it. The ochre is land, the grey clay is water, the chalk is snowy mountains. This little mark at the top here is Polaris, so, ¡®North¡¯ is ¡®up¡¯. Just below that, it seems you¡¯ve recognised the shape of the Great Basin, as provided by my departed friend. Then here¡­¡± I run my finger along the grey line from the South side of the Basin, turning East and flowing to the grey sea, its other edge smudged to indicate that what¡¯s on the far side is unknown ¡°¡­that¡¯s the ¡®Great River¡¯ you know¡­ but it¡¯s not our Great River. For that, we need to keep going South, until we get to what you call the ¡®Southern Sea¡¯ but, to my people, was the ¡®Northern Sea¡¯¡­ Once you reach the coast, you travel East a little, then follow it South, past all these small islands, then turn East again for a looong time before turning South again for about as long before, finally, turning West¡­ Then you get here¡­¡± I tap on the large fan of grey lines meeting my homeland¡¯s North coast, all emanating from the one thick, grey line that runs from the bottom of the map ¡°¡­this is where we¡¯ve come from. We think it¡¯s about four or five times as far South of the Great Basin as the Basin is from North to South but, because we¡¯ve had to come around the coasts here, the distance has probably been about twice as long for us to walk. It¡¯s taken us around a year.¡± ¡°No!¡± disputes the one who gave his name as Vortlug ¡°There¡¯s no way you could have come so far in just a year! Even if you never rested, you¡¯d still have had to stop to replenish your foodstores!¡± ¡°Oh, we did¡­¡± I smile ¡°¡­we probably spent two days stopped for every one we spent on the march.¡± Four of the redheads and the one brunet exchange looks of confusion with eachother. Only the Sunbeam doesn¡¯t react. ¡°As I told Raala here when I met her the other day, my people are a little different from yours¡­ and I don¡¯t just mean in the way we look! You can see we¡¯re taller, slimmer and darker than you are¡­ but we have other differences that are less skin deep¡­ For one thing, we are nowhere near as strong as you!¡± I reach out to clap my hand on my chief warrior¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Qrez here is the mightiest among us but, my guess is that he¡¯d only be about as strong as Raala¡­ if that!¡± The six of them look surprised and not a little sceptical! ¡°However, the main difference is that we can¡¯t run like your people can¡­ we¡¯re much slower than you but, to our advantage here, we can last much longer!¡­ Travelling over long distances isn¡¯t as much of a problem for us.¡± ¡°Yes¡­¡± frowns Kroln ¡°¡­my daughter tells me that, when you met, you made the claim that your people don¡¯t hunt in forests? That you kill your prey by exhausting them to death out on open plains?! Is this true?¡± ¡°It is.¡± I confirm, prompting a brief flurry of muttering between them. ¡°Can you show us?¡± asks the old man, voice flat. ¡°Not today, unfortunately¡­¡± I say with regret ¡°¡­I¡¯d be happy to show anyone who wants to see¡­ uhm¡­ the day after tomorrow is my next scheduled hunt. If they come here before noon, I¡¯ll accompany them myself.¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­ The Wolfs and Moufflons here must report back to their clans¡­ Raala will come though.¡± says the old man. His daughter looks disgusted at being volunteered but otherwise doesn¡¯t object. ¡°May I ask¡­¡± starts the scarred brunet in a deep voice ¡°¡­how many are you in this camp? How many clans are gathered here? Why did you come so far to get here?¡± ¡°Of course! Most of those gathered here are originally of my clan, 224 to be exact, but 193 are splinters of other clans from the Great River Delta. So, there are 417 survivors in total¡­ As for why we came here: After what happened, we all wanted to get a long way away from there¡­ I¡¯d been hearing stories of this place since I was 6 Winters old¡­ I knew the way, I knew the language and I¡¯d been told that the Basin had lush, bountiful plains with no one using them¡­ which seems to be correct.¡± ¡°Sorry¡­¡± says Kroln, raising his hand ¡°¡­what do you mean ¡®survivors¡¯? Survivors of what? What exactly was it that happened?¡± ¡°Ah, well¡­¡± I begin, taking care in choosing my words to explain concepts like ¡®war¡¯ and ¡®invasion¡¯ to these people before pointing back to the map ¡°¡­you see this land here, West of the Great River Delta? In my great grandparents¡¯ time, it was a ¡®savannah¡¯; lush grasslands teeming with game, fresh water and edible plants. It¡¯s said the rains fell steadily then, year after year. But, over time, the rains slowed¡­ then stopped! The land dried up, turned to dust, became a ¡®desert¡¯; a hot, barren place where life could no longer thrive.¡± I pause here, checking their faces as they listen. ¡°But the Great River still flowed, as it always had, pouring down from the South and spilling into the 144 Channels of its delta. It remained as bountiful as ever. My people still lived there, flourishing, thriving. And the people of the West¡­ they looked at us with envy!¡± The six pale faces all stare back at me with rapt attention. ¡°At first, they tried to negotiate¡­ We all knew the simple truth that the land could not support both my people and theirs¡­ but we tried to compromise! We offered to take some of them in. We offered to help the others move elsewhere¡­ but they refused. ¡®Dispersal is our people¡¯s death, just slower!¡¯ they answered. Their envoys left and, foolishly, we thought the danger had passed¡­ but we were wrong!¡± I take a deep breath. ¡°In their desperation, they had already decided; if we wouldn¡¯t leave our home peacefully, they would take it from us by force¡­ and make sure there were too few of us left to ever take it back!¡­ When they came down on the Delta, they came like a storm: in numbers we could not hope to match and with a ferocity that left precious few survivors¡­ My people¡­ though I¡¯m sure we seem numerous to you, have been reduced to perhaps a twentieth of what we were just a year ago!¡± I pause again, swallowing hard as the memories flare. ¡°My clan was lucky¡­ We were camped in the far East of the Delta at the time, the furthest from their attack¡­ The survivors fleeing toward us carried warnings of what was coming¡­ At first, we prepared to fight but soon realised it would be futile. To fight would mean a certain death, so our only choice was to run¡­ We gathered up all we could carry; Winter food stores, tools and medicines and we fled, fording the Easternmost channel as fast as we could¡­ but even that wasn¡¯t enough¡­ A detachment of the Westmen found us, midcrossing. My father, Tses, led the older men to hold them back, to let the rest of us escape. He ordered the younger men to cross with the women and children¡­ When I reached the far riverbank, I turned back and saw¡­ saw him and all those he had taken with him fall¡­ That was the day I became my clan¡¯s leader¡­ by one of the Westmens¡¯ many acts of murder.¡± Rightfully alarmed by what I¡¯ve just explained, none of them speak for a few long moments. Finally, the timid girl, Lashra, asks ¡°And were these Westmen¡­ your kind or¡­ something else?¡± Of course, the real question there is ¡®Are you going to slaughter us and take our land like ¡®your kind¡¯ did to you?¡¯ ¡°They were¡­ not exactly like us¡­ They spoke a different language, they dressed in different clothing, they used different tools and weapons and they looked different enough that I think one of my people would probably be able to tell the difference even without all that context¡­ but I don¡¯t think you would. I think you would look at one of them stood next to me and say we were the same kind ¡­ However, I assure you, we are nothing like them in our character, in our actions! We want peace and friendship¡­ We want our peoples to coexist harmoniously, us living on the plains, you in the forests. We have not come to these lands to bring strife with us, I swear!¡± They seem mildly mollified by my sincere reassurance¡­ but still not entirely convinced¡­ Kroln is the next to speak, asking the question I knew would come at some point. ¡°Who is the one who told you of the Great Basin?¡­ Who showed you its shape and told you of the clans within it?¡± ¡°He¡­¡± I hesitate ¡°¡­We¡­ called him ¡®Old Red¡¯ because, though he¡¯d had a name, he said it ¡®didn¡¯t belong to him anymore¡¯. He was one of your people and taught me your language. He wasn¡¯t the first of your kind we¡¯d met but he was the first one from quite so far away from the Delta, the first Basinman¡­He saved my life when I was a child. He brought me back to camp and my father asked what reward he wanted to take back to his clan¡­ He didn¡¯t speak our language very well at that point but he managed to communicate that he had no clan¡­ My father asked if he wanted to become part of ours¡­ and, it seemed, he did¡­ He was among those that stayed behind to allow us to make the ford last year¡­ he fought bravely and mightily!¡± I wince as I see the realisation dawn on the old man¡¯s face. ¡°A transgressor!? You took an unnamed exile into your clan!? Do you even know what he did to earn his banishment?!¡± ¡°Yes. I do¡­¡± I state, calmly but firmly ¡°¡­but, I¡¯m afraid, that¡¯s not my story to tell¡­ Suffice it to say, though he violated your people¡¯s laws, I don¡¯t believe him to have been a bad man. If he honestly relayed the circumstances that led to his penalty (which, having known him most of my life, I see no reason to doubt) then I think what he did was as laudable as when he pulled me from the river¡­¡± I sigh inwardly as I see different mixtures of dismay, disgust and alarm adorn the locals¡¯ faces at my words. I should really have found a more diplomatic way of phrasing it but I¡¯ll be damned if I let them speak ill of my friend! ¡°*ahem*¡­Perhaps we should move on? I would like to discuss the nature of our relationship with you, moving forward.¡± ¡°What¡¯s there to discuss?¡± scoffs Vortlug ¡°You know there aren¡¯t enough of us to stop you doing anything you want here!¡­ You¡¯re just gonna dictate terms!¡± I smile at him and correct ¡°That¡¯s not how I wish our relationship to be¡­ Everything I¡¯m about to say is to be taken as an offer that you are free to refuse.¡± Glances are exchanged before Kroln says ¡°Make your offer.¡± Nodding in thanks, I start ¡°I¡¯ve already explained how my people hunt differently to yours¡­ One of the upshots of our method is that our supply of meat is fairly predictable¡­ we must work longer than you to acquire it but it¡¯s less likely to slip away from us and far less likely to turn around and gore us! However, my people cannot live on meat alone¡­ We need plants to eat as well; nuts, fruits, roots, mushrooms¡­ all things that occur far more plentifully in forests than out here on the plains. We¡¯re able to acquire some of our needs from the fragments of unclaimed forest territory out here but not enough¡­ My offer is, for as long as my people make our home on this plain, you bring us vegetables and we will trade our meat for them¡­ weight for weight¡­¡± Twelve eyes go wide as I add the last part which I intentionally didn¡¯t mention to Raala the other day. ¡°Sorry¡­ I think I must¡¯ve misheard!¡­ You said ¡®weight for weight¡¯?! Like, we bring you a certain weight of nuts or whatever and you give us the same amount of meat!?¡± clarifies Mogratro, disbelieving. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s what I said.¡± I confirm. ¡°How can you possibly hope to honour that?¡± asks Kordau, green eyes narrowing either side of his crooked nose. ¡°Simply because I know that, however much you bring, it needs to be split 417 ways and, conversely, I¡¯ve got hundreds of hunters bringing in meat¡­ I don¡¯t foresee any problem meeting your demand¡­ If there ever is¡­ if we find ourselves drowning in nuts and mushrooms but without a scrap of meat left, we may need to renegotiate but, certainly for the moment, I think it¡¯s achievable and I think it¡¯s a fair deal, reflecting our gratitude for your agreement to allow us to become your neighbours, right?¡­ I would also like to request temporary exchanges between our peoples if you were amenable?¡­ We¡¯d be happy to host any who wish to come here and teach us your language, customs, local knowledge and, if you wished, some of us could also come to you to share our knowledge. I¡¯m sure we have much to learn from eachother!¡± All except Raala and her father begin excited murmuring. Speaking for the first time since she introduced herself, the freckled girl flatly asks ¡°And what¡¯s the longterm plan? Are you and your descendants just gonna keep bouncing back and forth from plain to plain, trading meat for veg with me and mine until the Ravening Wolf swallows the Sun?¡± ¡°Oh¡­ well, over that kind of timescale, I¡¯m assuming our two peoples will eventually become one?¡± I suggest with my best smile. There¡¯s a moment of stunned silence¡­ followed by absolutely raucous laughter from the six! ¡°You¡¯re¡­*hahahahahaaa*¡­delusional if you think¡­*hahahaha*¡­we can breed, outlander!¡± guffaws Raala, genuine mirth being a rather flattering look on her ¡°We might¡­*hahahahahahah*¡­look vaguely alike but¡­*haha*¡­we¡¯d obviously be like asses and horses or¡­*hahaha*¡­bison and aurochs! What makes you think¡­!?¡± ¡°Ooooh Kseeeeem¡­¡± singsongs my sisters voice from outside, speaking our first language ¡°¡­I¡¯ve got Eshker and his mum here? Can we come in?¡± ¡°Impeccable timing, Bwey. Come in!¡± I call back in Basinspeak. My sister dramatically flourishes the door curtain aside, revealing an 11 flood old boy, his 45 flood old mother standing behind him. His skin is light brown. His dreads are a medium brown with just a touch of red in them. His face is flatter than the locals¡¯ but more projected than mine. His shoulders are broader and his limbs thicker than would be typical for a boy his age. Most strikingly though, peeking out from underneath his modest brow shelf, is a pair of bright green eyes. What this boy is is immediately identifiable¡­ but I say it anyway just to make the point ¡°Everyone¡­ this is Eshker and his mother Zgrizeh¡­ Eshker is Old Red¡¯s son¡­ Say ¡®hello¡¯, Eshker.¡± Uncertainly, the boy raises his palm to the room and, in his father¡¯s language, greets ¡°Hello everyone¡­ it¡¯s¡­ nice to meet you...?¡± Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Six ---Qrez¡¯s perspective--- The brutes leave the tent, off to waddle back to their disgusting hovels. It¡¯s absurd that these savages build permanent dwellings in a single location and just keep living there unless and until something happens that makes it impossible to do so! How primitive can you be!? Of course, it¡¯s little wonder their tribes are so small when they limit themselves to sedentism! You can only get larger populations with the application of nomady, it seems! The repulsive way they lowed and bleated at eachother in that gibberish tongue of theirs made my stomach turn! The halfbreed seemed right at home with them¡­ perhaps he should think about going to live with his own kind(!) Still¡­ the women weren¡¯t bad looking¡­ as animals go¡­ I might not object if they came asking me to give them halfbreeds of their own(!) ¡°¡­Qrez?¡± comes a voice, breaking me from my seethe. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ could you repeat that, leader?¡± ¡°I asked if you foresaw any issues with us acquiring enough meat both for ourselves and to trade to make up the vegetable shortfall?¡± repeats the man unfit to lead. This man whose sole qualifications to sit where he sits are his blood and his charisma! This man charismatic enough that he managed to convince all that¡¯s left of our people to traipse halfway around the world to get to this cold, dreary, miserable place populated by paleskinned beastmen! Dismissively, I answer ¡°We can do it¡­ but I still think you should have simply demanded they let us gather in the territory they claim as ¡®theirs¡¯¡­ or, better yet, we could have demanded they do the gathering and bring us what we need as tribute!¡­ Afterall, they will owe us a debt of gratitude for the civilising knowledge you plan on sharing with them and¡­ we did just become the single most powerful force between here and the Great Delta!¡± The man exudes his charm to smile ¡°We could have, Qrez¡­ You¡¯re right we could have demanded that¡­ but do you think it wise to be making enemies when we just arrived here?¡± I frown ¡°Why not? Do you think there might be some force that could equal us hidden within striking distance?¡± He chuckles ¡°No, Qrez¡­ I just think that it¡¯s better to make friends than enemies! It¡¯s better to be generous than greedy! It¡¯s better to have neighbours who, if we find ourselves in difficulty down the river, think ¡®Oh no! Our friends! We must help!¡¯ and not ¡®Finally! Our enemies are weakened! Now is our moment!¡¯¡­ Don¡¯t you agree?¡± ¡°Mmm¡­¡± I grunt, not really having the patience for such nonsense. ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- ¡°It¡¯s a pretty good deal though, right?¡± says Vortlug, missing the point entirely. ¡°Yes! It¡¯s a fantastic deal but he basically told us in plain Basinspeak that it was only so good to soften the hide with us, didn¡¯t he!?¡­ That and do you not remember him saying it was subject to renegotiation at a later time? I think that basically means that they¡¯ll honour this deal for juuuuust long enough that it¡¯s not really practical for us to tell them to leave anymore, then say ¡®Nooooo, sooooorry¡­ looks like you guys are bringing us tooooo many vegetables¡­ we have to cut the exchange rate!¡¯¡± I sneer.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Yeah¡­ but¡­ like¡­ it¡¯d still be a great deal at half the price!¡± points out Mogratro. ¡°Then they¡¯ll make it a quarter!¡± ¡°That¡¯s still a pretty alright deal¡­¡± ¡°Then it¡¯ll be an eighth!¡± I snap. ¡°Well¡­¡± muses my brunet halfcousin ¡°¡­even if they completely rescind the offer at some point, it isn¡¯t like we¡¯ve lost anything, is it? We don¡¯t use the plains so what¡¯s the harm in letting them?¡± ¡°Oh, let me see:¡­(!)¡± I answer, petulantly ¡°¡­Losing control of our Westward access to the rest of the Basin? Having a force of people absolutely able to overpower all six clans (no matter how weak they say they are) on our doorstep and only their word that they won¡¯t? The fact that we know their kind do ¡®war¡¯? The fact that, since animals move freely between forest and plain, once they¡¯ve scoured the plains clean of everything edible and fucked off West for the years it¡¯ll take to recover, we¡¯re gonna suffer indirectly because new animals won¡¯t be coming in to replace the ones we hunt? And, worst of all, they seem to have every intention of breeding us out of existence!¡­ You saw that kid, right? They know they can breed with us and they seem to have no qualms about doing so! That many of them, the whole Basin will be as hybridised as that boy is in the span of a few generations!¡± ¡°Erm¡­ I mean¡­ you don¡¯t want outland hybrid kids, don¡¯t have kids with an outlander maybe? Seems simple enough, right¡­? I mean, no one¡¯s holding a spear on you to force you¡­(!)¡± scoffs Vortlug. There¡¯s a moment where we all consider that before Lashra beats me to it, quietly suggesting ¡°What if they did, though?¡± Sombrely, I expand ¡°With so many of them, we¡¯d have to do a ¡®war¡¯ about it¡­¡± the outland word sticking in my throat as much as the concept sticks in my mind ¡°¡­it¡¯d probably take every clan in the Basin uniting against them to have a chance¡­ and, even then, if we just drove them away, they¡¯d only become someone else¡¯s problem¡­¡± ¡°Enough.¡± declares my dad ¡°No one¡¯s doing a ¡®war¡¯ with the outlanders¡­ Not unless they give us a reason¡­ So far, they¡¯ve been civil¡­ for the moment, we are simply hoping they remain so.¡± ¡°Hmmm, here¡¯s hoping¡­¡± I say, doubtfully. ---Zgrizeh¡¯s perspective--- ¡°They hated me, Mum!¡± pines my son as we sit in the tent which, for the moment, we have to ourselves. ¡°They didn¡¯t hate you, Eshker.¡± I reassure, raising my hand to the side of his face and smiling gently ¡°They were just surprised by you and it made them forget their manners is all¡­ If your father was any indication, his people don¡¯t have any problem making it known when they dislike someone(!)¡± ¡°But you saw their faces, right?!¡± he asks, miserably ¡°You saw how they looked at me!?¡± ¡°I did¡­¡± I acknowledge ¡°¡­but I saw no hatred there.¡± At that, he sighs and turns away from me. Under his breath, he mutters ¡°I thought I¡¯d belong here¡­ I thought this would finally be a place where I wouldn¡¯t be a halfbreed anymore¡­¡± ¡°Hey!¡± I chide, sternly, closing the distance and turning his face back to force his watery eyes to meet mine. My heart aches for the brief moment it takes me to stop seeing his father in his face. ¡°You are a half nothing! Alright!? You are all my son! You are all Deltaman! Wherever your father came from originally, he was one of us too!¡­ Those whose minds are so small that they throw around that kind of insult are not worth listening to about anything, you hear me?¡± ¡°But-!¡± he starts to object. ¡°Do. you. hear. me. Eshker Red Son!?¡± I interrupt, gripping both sides of his head, fiercely. ¡°I¡­ I hear you, Mum.¡± ¡°Good!¡± I say before laying a long kiss on his sloping forehead, feeling another ache as his father¡¯s petrichor fills my nostrils. Several long moments pass before I pull my lips away and replace them with my forehead. ¡°You just need to give the locals a little time. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll warm up to you. You speak their language as well as me or Ksem, maybe better! You know their customs, their ways and (in spite of my best efforts to the contrary(!)) you share their religion. I¡¯m sure, in time, you¡¯ll come to serve as a bridge between our people¡¯s every bit as much as Ksem will¡­ and, if they don¡¯t, you¡¯re still one of us and you always will be!¡± Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Seven ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- I lie on my back in the clear water. My feet tickle pleasingly as minnows nibble the skin. Above me, I can see the late morning sunlight through the forest canopy. There¡¯s a slight breeze on my face, nicely complemented by the gentle current on the rest of my body. Soon, Winter will be here and the streams will be too cold to bathe in like this¡­ I¡¯m guessing the outlanders would already think this water was uncomfortable from what the leader¡¯s told me¡­ ¡°Raala¡­!¡± the dampened sound reaches my ears through the water. ¡®Think of the Mammothdamned Wolf!¡¯ I think to myself as irritation replaces my serenity. I sigh at my post-wash-soak being interrupted, raise myself from the pool and turn around. ¡°Oooh!¡± yips the tall man before hurriedly turning away and saying ¡°Sorry¡­ I didn¡¯t¡­ the light¡­ the reflection¡­ I couldn¡¯t see¡­¡± Frowning up at the back of the man¡¯s head, I ask ¡°¡®Couldn¡¯t see¡¯ what? What are you sorry for?¡± not daring to hope that he¡¯s apologising for cursing us with his people¡¯s presence. ¡°Well¡­ uhm¡­ you¡¯re naked?¡± says the man, still with his back to me and the water. ¡°¡­Yeah¡­ aaaaand?¡± I prompt. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ it¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s just embarrassing for me is all¡­ I know your people aren¡¯t the same but¡­ I can¡¯t help it.¡± ¡°¡®Embarrassing¡¯!?¡± I mock ¡°What by the fucking Maw is there to be embarrassed of?!?!?!¡­ oH nOoOoOoO(!) NoW yOu KnOw I¡¯vE gOt TiIiIiItS(!)¡­ Is my body that ugly to you or¡­!?¡± ¡°No, no! It¡¯s definitely not that! The opposite if anything! It¡¯s just¡­ err¡­ it¡¯s¡­ men and women¡­ we don¡¯t¡­ In the 144 Channels¡­ they only see eachother naked¡­ when¡­ uhm¡­ when they are¡­ when they¡¯re about to¡­ erm¡­¡± The realisation hits me like the head of a charging rhino and my face contorts in disgust. ¡°STOP!¡± I snarl ¡°Not one more WORD, outlander!¡± I stamp up the pebbled bank to where I left the large buckskin. Absolutely furious at him for the warm ochre flush he¡¯s made stain my cheeks, I yank up the soft hide and hurriedly start rubbing down my body to dry off. ¡°I thought your people came from a place where it¡¯s always warm? How¡¯d you end up as uptight fucking weirdos about nudity?!¡± I fume, under my breath. ¡°Well¡­ when it was hot, we needed to wear light clothing all over our bodies to shield us from the sun¡­ like portable shade¡­ It never got anywhere near freezing where I¡¯m from but it did get cool and, when it was cool, we needed to wrap up not to get cold¡­ The parts of the year where clothing would¡¯ve been optional got swallowed by the parts where it wasn¡¯t¡­ is my guess?¡± ¡°Khhh!¡± I scoff ¡°And now you bring your weird hangups here to inflict on us!¡± starting to get dressed. He says nothing, just continuing to look forward, away from me. ¡°Why did you even come to the pool if you¡¯re so weird about nudity? You knew I was bathing!¡± I growl. ¡°I thought you would¡¯ve been wearing something. I realise now I was wrong.¡± he mutters. ¡°You thought I was wearing clothes to bathe(?)¡± I ask, flatly ¡°That¡¯s the stupidest thing I¡¯ve ever heard!¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. At this point, I notice what he¡¯s wearing¡­ His legs are bare from the midcalf to the upper thigh and his arms are entirely uncovered up to the shoulders. His top has a small vent between his shoulderblades and a larger one at the lower back, exposing the toned muscles there. Searching my memory for the brief glimpse I got of his front before his squeamishness made him turn around, I recall there was a similar vent over his stomach, lines of pale scar tissue visible through it. ¡°What¡¯s with the getup, outlander?¡± I ask, as I finish covering up and stride past him, getting a noseful of his tangy alien scent ¡°You were more heavily dressed when we talked in your tent! Your skin got thicker in the last two days or what(?)¡± ¡°Oh, well¡­ I¡¯ll get sweaty if I dress more heavily than this¡­ I mean, I¡¯ll get sweaty either way but less so dressed like this.¡± I scoff, thinking he¡¯s being a massive baby about getting a bit of sweat in his clothes! ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- I jog alongside the wheezing, sweatdrenched woman who¡¯s been chasing the aurochs with us for about a twelfth of the sunlight now. I¡¯ve got a pleasant cooling sheen on my skin but she looks as if she¡¯s just come out of that pool again! The brief glimpse I caught of her naked body pushes itself into my mind, causing me a wash of shame. I feel terrible for two reasons; one, I saw something I should not have seen and, two, if I hadn¡¯t said anything, she wouldn¡¯t¡¯ve needed to be embarrassed about it at all! Of course, if I hadn¡¯t said anything, if I¡¯d done my best to treat talking with a beautiful woman who¡¯s not wearing any clothes like it¡¯s a normal thing that¡¯s happened to me a thousand times, she would¡¯ve found out eventually and been angry at me for not making the situation clear the first time! I can¡¯t win, it seems¡­(!) When we first sighted our quarry, her initial reaction was to try and run it down in a flat sprint! As impressive as it was to see the way everything about her is clearly meant for running fast (from her thick, muscular legs to the way her flat, squared off feet smack against the ground to her rock solid stability), I can¡¯t say I would¡¯ve advised starting an endurance hunt with a sprint! She obviously had no luck chasing down the bull when it was able to see her coming from so far away but what she did do was tire herself out! It was perhaps a little cruel to extend the invitation at all when I knew how bad she would be at keeping up but¡­ well, I know from experience that Old Red¡¯s people don¡¯t tent to believe our stamina until they witness it! Hopefully, even if she is embarrassed and annoyed by being shown up like this (as I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll see it), she will at least be reassured that this is actually the way we hunt and we¡¯re perpetrating no deception about it! Leaning down so she¡¯ll be the only one who can hear me, I start ¡°Uhm¡­ Raala?¡­ You know you could just wai-?¡± but she cuts me off. ¡°I said¡­*hhhhh*¡­I¡¯m fine! ¡­*hhhhh*¡­ Leave me¡­*hhhhh*¡­alone!¡± ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- My whole body is on fire as I lie on my back, my clothes soaked with sweat in a way I already know is going to get uncomfortable on the return walk¡­ Those outlanders are insane! This is how they hunt?! Every time!? It¡¯s fucking creepy! That aurochs had no idea what was coming for it! You could see in the almost lazy way it was running early on, it had no clue that today was going to be it¡¯s last on earth! No idea that its fate had already been determined by having caught the eyes of those people who just don¡¯t seem to get tired! I watch them from the top of this knoll I collapsed on, way in the distance, as their prey finally falls to the ground. I can see the strength to even stand is simply gone from the mighty bull¡¯s limbs as the lanky outlanders close in around it. I see their leader raise that bent stick he carries in some kind of gesture but the distance and the fact that he¡¯s turned away from me don¡¯t give me a good view of exactly what he does with it. Then, suddenly, my attention snaps to the bull, its head dropping to the ground like a heavy sack! The spear wielding outlanders rush forward to lance its sides¡­ I watch the strange creatures as they immediately set about butchering and skinning their kill. It looks like they really do hunt on plains, I guess. ---Bwey¡¯s perspective--- ¡°You sleep Ksem tent tonight(?)¡± I quip at the dour girl, sat alone, as I sit down next to her on the log seat in the centre of camp, the light of my people¡¯s fire fighting back the dusk as we sing, dance and eat. ¡°I¡¯d rather sleep in a bear¡¯s den.¡± she sneers, the skin twisting on her thick brow, voice as serious as a lion attack! ¡°It joke, girl! Not serious this way!¡­ You sleep me and girls¡­ Not worry!¡± I giggle back in my best attempt at her language. I don¡¯t have Ksem¡¯s talent for tongues and never spent as much time with Old Red as he did, so most of my learning of Basinspeak has been from him, in the last year. ¡°Here! Food for you!¡± I say, pushing a wooden bowl of spitroasted beef and emberroasted onion to her. She extends her hand to push it away. ¡°I didn¡¯t help. All I did was run and collapse. I can¡¯t take that.¡± she growls, looking away. ¡°When you people get food, only people help get food?¡± I ask, wryly, knowing that isn¡¯t how they do things. She meets my eyes but doesn¡¯t answer. I push the bowl back towards her and smile ¡°Eat girl! You work hard, you need food! It not complicated(!)¡± Reluctantly, she takes it¡­ and starts to eat. Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Eight ---Qrez¡¯s perspective--- ¡°Sir, is this a good idea?¡± snivels Ezwer from his place beside me in the long grass ¡°Aren¡¯t the hairy she-elephants like¡­ gods to the paleskins? They won¡¯t be happy if-¡± ¡°The savages may think these things are gods but we don¡¯t! We can see them for what they are! Just another part of the Cycle!¡­ Our oh-so-perfect leader has decreed that we trade them meat for veg, they don¡¯t get to be picky about the meat we trade them!¡± I assert. I look at the animals, five great giants of meat (and their two babies, themselves each several times the weight of a person) as they lazily graze the grass, edging closer and closer to where I need them to be, between my men and the top of the bluff. The fall should kill them but any that survive will certainly be too injured to escape, we can come down and finish them at our leisure. There¡¯s enough meat here for us to match all the forest veg the brutes come to bring us and eat our own fill for months before we need to make another hunt! My heart jumps as the beasts get so very almost to where we can cut off their escape¡­ then stop. If I give the signal now, they might turn and flee back the way they came and, if they do that, they will escape! Just¡­ a little¡­ further¡­! ¡°NOW!¡± I cry as I jump to my feet. Arrows fly over my head and lodge themselves into the hides of three of the creatures. All around me, my hunters close in. The dumb beasts wail and roar in pain and confusion. They start to run¡­ right where I need them to go! The matriarch sees the cliff and tries to stop but she¡¯s no match for the force of the ones behind her! The whole herd disappears and, three heartbeats later, there is a rapid series of earthshaking *boom*s¡­ I jog up to the top of the cliff and stop, looking out and down over the edge. What I see is very satisfying. I am going to be a Cycle. damned. HERO for this! ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- ¡°Look at this!¡± cries the boy I recognise as a Boarman ¡°Does this look right to you?!¡± ¡°Qele an ksil se¡¯euts nun?¡± answers the perplexed looking outlander, clearly not understanding. ¡°I don¡¯t care what the stick says! This¡­¡± he cups a large bag hung from a notch cut into one side of a balanced stick ¡°¡­is obviously more than this!¡± he indicates the much smaller bag hanging the same distance on the other side. ¡°Kre te¡¯entze!?¡± answers the man, looking annoyed now. I decide to step in. ¡°What¡¯s in there?¡± I ask, pointing to the big bag. ¡°Mushrooms. Why?¡± answers the Boar, turning to me. ¡°Because mushrooms are going to be lighter than meat, aren¡¯t they¡­ That¡¯s why it looks like so much less. It¡¯s weight for weight, not size for size. He¡¯s not shorting you. Take them both off the balance stick and see how they feel in your hands if you don¡¯t believe it.¡± I explain, exasperatedly. The boy frowns and reaches out, unhitching both bags. The dark eyes of the outlander are fixed on the Boarman, clearly braced for the possibility that he runs away with both bags, but he makes no move to stop him. Impressive restraint when you consider that he can¡¯t actually know what¡¯s just been explained. The stick wobbles before returning to perfect balance. The boy holds the bags in his hands and jostles them up and down a few times, feeling their heft. ¡°Your right¡­¡± he says, bemused ¡°¡­I guess they are about the same!¡± ¡°Glad the issue¡¯s resolved¡­ but you probably want to give this guy the mushrooms before he loses his patience with you¡­¡± I answer, gesturing up at the annoyed looking flatface.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Oh, yeah¡­ Right.¡± he says, extending the arm with the mushrooms in it to the dark skinned lanklet who takes them. I sigh and walk on through the busy exchange. Not even a Moon since these outlanders arrived and this new normal has already firmly established itself. My clan hasn¡¯t had to gather any firewood recently because so many have been coming through our lands, gathering our firewood to smoke their meat before they take it home and, due to the Due, bringing a third of what they collect to us! Of course, a couple of wise arses have recognised that, even with the Due, it makes more sense to gather up our veg than to carry their own from home and have had to be firmly told that that¡¯s not what the Due is for! Our lands will get over depleted if everyone¡¯s coming here to gather their trade veg. We¡¯d be drowning in food in the interim but, eventually, we¡¯d reach a point where we couldn¡¯t stay here! Come Spring, they say they¡¯ll move further North, nearer Moufflon¡¯s border. Hopefully, that takes the strain off us a bit. It¡¯s absurd to think just how much and how quickly life has changed since the outlanders arrived¡­ and without any warning either! How much they¡¯ve disrupted just by being here! It¡¯s- ¡°Excuse me¡­ Ma¡¯am?¡± murmurs a child¡¯s voice from my left shoulder, accompanied by a little tug on the back of my clothes. I turn and look down into a green eyed, light brown skinned face that does uncomfortable things to my insides. Trying not to let the hybrid boy see how uneasy he makes me, I answer ¡°Yes¡­ uhm¡­ Eshker?¡± He bobs his head to let me know I¡¯ve remembered his name right and says ¡°I¡­ uhm¡­ I need to show you something¡­¡± looking and sounding much more uncomfortable than I am. ¡°Oh¡­?¡± I frown ¡°¡­what¡¯s that?¡± Waggling his face in a ¡®no¡¯, the boy says ¡°You need to see it¡­¡± his eyes pleading. ¡°Aaaaal¡­right, kid¡­ Lead the way then?¡± The boy looks mildly relieved at my agreement but still very unhappy. He turns and marches off in a gait that¡¯s uncannily in between my people¡¯s stride and the outlanders¡¯ rolling one. I follow behind him until he reaches a large tent. Turning back around to me, his hand poised between himself and the door curtain, he says ¡°This is a butcher tent¡­ They¡¯re where we keep the meat between hunting it and eating it or trading it to you¡­ This one¡¯s got meat in it that¡¯s meant for the trade¡­ You might want to just prepare yourself¡­ I¡¯m really sorry¡­¡± With that, he pulls back the curtain. I peer past him into the dim space, piled with meat. My eyes go wide as I see it¡­ Nausea twists my stomach and I turn away, retching. ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- I¡¯ve got an enormous weight of cold stone in my stomach as I sit in my place in the Main Tent, looking over the fire to the door. I don¡¯t consider myself to be a man who¡¯s quick to anger but, right now, I¡¯m absolutely furious! Kseley is sat on my left and Raala on my right as the three of us wait for the object of my ire to arrive. He comes in, laughing with whoever it was who accompanied him here, then sees the faces of the three of us waiting for him. He stops laughing. His eyes flick around for a moment before he asks ¡°You summoned me, leader?¡± ¡°I did, Qrez.¡± I state, simply. ¡°What for?¡± I take a deep inhale and exhale, my eyes fixed on him, before saying ¡°I¡¯ve just been made aware, Qrez, that we have meat from both female and baby mammoths in our larders¡­ Not just that but we¡¯ve also got it specifically in our trade tent¡­ Would you care to explain just how that happened?¡± ¡°Oh, that?¡­ Yeah, my party drove them off a cliff on our hunt yesterday. I¡¯ve got Ezwer and Re¡¯lem guarding the carcasses right now while porter teams go back and forth to collect the meat.¡± he admits, casually. ¡°I¡­ see¡­ and what in the Cycle was it that possessed you to think that that was at all acceptable, Qrez? I know you know just how taboo they consider it to wipe out whole herds of any prey animal. I know you know they only hunt maverick mammoths! I know you know the locals consider female mammoths and calves sacred! And I KNOW I did not authorise this, Qrez!¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ I know about their superstitions¡­¡± he sneers ¡°¡­but I don¡¯t see why we have to be beholden to them! Let these brutes think they were shat out of a hairy elephant cunt if they want! What difference does it make to us?!¡± ¡°Qrez!¡± I roar, rising to my feet and causing him to jump away from me ¡°We are STRANGERS in this land!¡­ EVERYTHING we¡¯ve been doing since we got here has been aimed at getting these people to see us as friends and ALLIES and you¡¯ve just pissed all over all of it with this stupid fucking stunt!!!¡­ Not only do they now know we don¡¯t share their religion (a conversation happening well ahead of schedule), not only do they now think of us as wanton killers of animals they hold in reverence but they have also come to think of us as people who have NO qualms about making them break THEIR taboos with our lack of care!!!¡­ We¡¯ve had to STOP the trade while we figure out what¡¯s contaminated and what¡¯s not!¡­ DO you have any idea of the damage you¡¯ve done!? The TRUST you¡¯ve lost us!?!?!?¡± He does not answer, just watching me. I let out a long, resigned sigh before informing him ¡°¡­*sigh*¡­ You¡¯re demoted, Qrez¡­ You are no longer my chief warrior and, until further notice, you are confined to eyeshot of camp and are not permitted to hunt. I¡¯m putting you on nightguard duty, starting tomorrow night.¡± ¡°Whuh-uh!?¡­ You can¡¯t!!!¡± he stammers. ¡°I CAN and I AM, Qrez!¡­ I can¡¯t have someone I don¡¯t trust sitting by my side! I can¡¯t have someone I don¡¯t trust giving orders to my people and, with this, you have proven you are someone I. can¡¯t. trust! You¡¯re lucky the penalty is not worse!¡­ I¡¯ll announce it in the morning¡­ Now get out of my sight!¡± His breaths hitching as his face twists with a cacophony of negative emotions, the man stands for several heartbeats¡­ then turns and storms from the tent. Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Nine ---Qrez¡¯s perspective--- This is an OUTRAGE! *fzzz**crack* How DARE he!? *fzzz**crack* Who does he think he IS!? *fzzz**crack* Demote me?! *fzzz**crack* Confine me to camp?! *fzzz**crack* Put me on nightguard duty?! *fzzz**crack* ME!?!?!? *fzzz**crack* And all because he cares more about these primitive brutes and their superstitions than he does about his own¡­ *fzzz**crack* ¡­PEOPLE! *fzzz**crack* It¡¯s not FAIR! *fzzz**crack* If that paleskinlover was half the leader he pretends to be, he¡¯d step aside and let a real man lead! ¡°Yo! Qrez!¡± My head whips from the rock I was about to pick up to see Re¡¯lem striding towards me from the camp. I tuck my sling into its pouch as my lieutenant joins me on the riverbank. ¡°Hey, boss¡­ I heard what happened¡­ I¡¯m sorry. For what it¡¯s worth, I don¡¯t think you deserved demotion over it!¡± ¡°Of course I don¡¯t!¡± I snarl, bitterly ¡°That boy who calls himself our leader just cares so much about not upsetting the brutes that he¡¯s letting them walk all over us!¡­ In what world is a man responsible for a successful elephant jump demoted to the bottom of the male hierarchy rather than lauded as a hero!?¡± ¡°Yeah, I know boss, I know! It¡¯s unfair!¡± I turn to glare at the water flowing past us, just seething. Then, I have an idea¡­ My back straightens and my eyes go wide as they pass over the bolder pitted with the marks left by my slingstones. I turn to Re¡¯lem, grinning broadly. Taken aback, it takes a moment for him to ask ¡°You have an idea, boss?¡± ¡°Yes I have, Re¡¯lem!¡± I answer, ardently ¡°We know we¡¯re more than a match for any of the little tribes of savages, right?¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Aaaaand¡­¡± I begin, starting to pace along the water¡¯s edge as I do ¡°¡­we know we¡¯re more than a match for all of them if they joined forces!?¡± ¡°Yuh-huh?¡± ¡°By rights, we should either have told them to clear off and give us this entire plateau or stay and serve as our tributaries¡­ the only problem is, our oh-so-convincing leader doesn¡¯t want to do that! He wants us and them to be fwieeends(!) He wants us to crossbreed with them until we¡¯re one people! He wants our blood diluted with theirs! He wants our women to bear their men¡¯s children like Zgrizeh did! He already gave away Tsazel to that firefurred brute who walked us up the river! *pwuh*!¡± I spit in disgust. ¡°Alright? But what¡¯s the plan, boss?¡± I turn back to him ¡°The plan, Re¡¯lem, is that we take that choice out of his hands! We do something that will so alienate the paleskins that an easily winnable war between us and them becomes inevitable! Either Ksem gets on side or there will be sufficient will for a coup and I can take over to lead our people the way they should be led!¡± Perturbed but clearly intrigued, Re¡¯lem asks ¡°And¡­ what would we need to do to alienate them like that?¡± Grinning from ear to ear, I state ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯d say¡­ We could achieve it quite effectively by helping ourselves to what we¡¯re owed¡­¡± ¡°And¡­ what¡¯s that?¡± he asks, leaning in close. ¡°Well¡­ I know we¡¯ve both wanted a taste of the local women, right?¡± His face lights up like a wad of tinder struck by a spark. ---Bwey¡¯s perspective--- ¡°Ksem?¡± I hear Eshker¡¯s voice from outside the Main Tent. ¡°Just me I¡¯m afraid, Eshker(!)¡± I quip ¡°Come in and I¡¯ll help you if I can.¡± I see the flash of light as the door curtain opens. I turn from the bags of traded forest veg I was inspecting to look behind me and immediately frown. ¡°Eshker, what¡¯s wrong?¡± I ask, having seen the look on his face. ¡°I¡¯ve¡­ just seen Qrez leaving the camp with Re¡¯lem.¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°And¡­ I take it you don¡¯t just mean to go and throw his tantrum on the riverbank?¡± I ask, not hopeful. ¡°No, Ma¡¯am¡­ They¡­ erm¡­ they went East¡­ into the forest¡­¡± ¡°Ah!¡± well shit! ---Lashra¡¯s perspective--- I walk through the woods of Bison territory, a sack of various vegetables slung over my back. This is the first time I¡¯ve ever gone outside my clan¡¯s lands on my own and¡­ it¡¯s both terrifying and exhilarating! All I¡¯ve got to do is make it to the outlanders¡¯ hearthstead, trade the vegies for the same weight of meat (still can¡¯t believe that!), sleep there and come home tomorrow. I¡¯ll be back quick enough that I don¡¯t even need to smoke the meat¡­ ¡®Very safe¡¯ I keep telling myself. Still¡­ I¡¯m constantly feeling the gnawing at the back of my mind that, if anything attacked me¡­ Well, nothing¡¯s going to attack me! I¡¯m going to trade this veg, bring back the meat and all my clan are going to say ¡®Well done, Lashra! What a brave girl you are, going to the outlanders all by yourself!¡¯ I smile at the thought¡­ then frown, curiously, at what I¡¯m hearing. Voices¡­ Men¡¯s voices¡­ Men¡¯s voices not speaking Basinspeak¡­ They appear from around the bend in the path, two tall, slim, flat faced and chested men with brown skin and small brown eyes. All three of us stop as they both notice me. I recognise the one with the sleek black hair as the scowling chief hunter from when I went to their hearthstead with Kordau. I don¡¯t recognise the other one in the fluffy hat and coat. I don¡¯t like the way they¡¯re looking at me. They confer with eachother for a brief moment before the chief hunter extends his hand to me and calls ¡°Vwet waande, meshken¡­ Vwet!¡± scooping it through the air in a clear beckon. My heart pounding, I don¡¯t go to them. Instead, I move one foot backwards. Immediately, the two of them begin sprinting towards me! Terrified, I turn and run. The leader said his chief hunter was as strong as Raala and I know I¡¯m not anywhere near that strong but, even if I were, there¡¯s two of them! He also said we were faster¡­ If I can just make it to Bison before I run out of stamina¡­ *whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-fwish* comes the sound from behind me. Something hits my legs and immediately tangles itself around them. My front hits the ground and I skid across the cold earth. Panicked, I reach down to my legs and see that they¡¯re tangled in some sort of weighted ropes. I hurry to try and free myself, seeing the two outland men rapidly approaching me from behind! I manage to get my right leg free, pulling off my sandal in the process, and decide that will have to do. I start to get up but before I¡¯m fully to my feet I take a sharp knee in the side, knocking the breath out of my lungs and knocking me back to the ground! Irresistible hands seize me and pull me to my feet. The sack of veg is yanked off my back and hurled away to land with a thud. I scream ¡°HELP! HELP!!! SOMEONE HEL-hmmf!¡± but a hand stifles my mouth, pressing the back of my head into a flat, bony chest. ¡°Q¡¯er nun eruhaleit tse teqte, Re¡¯lem.¡± the one holding me tells the other. As the one in the hat bends down to untangle the ropes from my left leg, my captor slips his hand beneath my dress and gropes my left breast. Tears stream down my face and my whole body is racked with sobs at what¡¯s happening to me. Futilely my hands try to pull his forearms down but, as strong as he feels, I think I could probably hang my entire weight from his arms without it making any difference! Why are they doing this!? Didn¡¯t the leader say they wanted to be friends?! Was that just a lie or is this part of making friends to them!? No¡­ no matter how different they are, they must know what they¡¯re doing is wrong! I wouldn¡¯t have a hand over my mouth unless they understood that my screams might draw in people who would want to rescue me! The hatted one finishes putting his throwing-ropes away and stands back up. He produces a wad of leather which he brings toward my face. The hand draws close but I clench my jaw and turn. The answer that that resistance meets is the sound of stone being drawn from behind me and a sharp edge being pressed into my throat. Fresh tears stream down as I screw up my eyes and open my jaw. They stuff it tight with the wadding before the one behind produces a length of rope with a pouch woven into it. The pouch is drawn tight over my mouth and the ends knotted behind my head, gagging me. ¡°Eqhe tsergulez zgret mahelz¡­ tsataq¡­¡± says the one holding me. The other grins. Suddenly and violently, they each grab a side of my top and yank them over their respective shoulder. I give a stifled, sobbing scream as they rip my clothes off me and push them to the floor. I¡¯m thrown to the ground and my wrists are wrestled behind my back then lashed together there. Bound, gagged, naked and afraid before the two foreign men, I desperately make one last attempt to wriggle free, only to be grabbed, pulled back and rolled over. My weight being forced to rest on my bound arms hurts a lot! Looking down on my heaving chest, the sleek haired one pouts ¡°Tlekseh! Vetse!¡­ Beu¡­ masheh misho¡­ Qete neur nun Ksemu bwamvu eqhu¡­ Ashei¡­ Vetseknu vetse(!)¡± then he turns to his accomplice and gestures down to me ¡°Qrosha neuz?¡± The other one¡¯s tiny eyes go wide as he smiles, greedily, and starts pulling off his own clothes. I sob pathetically as my last hope that this was all some kind of big misunderstanding flees from me. There is no escaping what¡¯s about to happen as the naked man folds his horrifically gangling body down over me, pushes my legs apart and¡­ *thock* ¡­keels over dead? The chief hunter seems as confused about what just happened as I am. Then they appear. ---Bwey¡¯s perspective--- ¡°Shoot him.¡± I coldly order Reutsa, the only bowwoman among us. She doesn¡¯t make me ask twice, immediately drawing, nocking and loosing an arrow which hits the repulsive naked man in the neck, a single breath before he does something irreversible. He falls over their victim¡¯s leg without so much as a yelp of pain. Qrez starts but hasn¡¯t realised what just happened before I scream ¡°QREEEEEEEEEEEEZ!¡± breaking into a sprint. I flip my spear and, just as he turns, smash the shaft into his face with all my strength. ¡°You STUPID *whack* EVIL *whack* BASTAAAAAAARD!!! *****whack**whack**whack*¡± I roar as I strike the rotted man, again and again, leaving his face a bloody pulp and a tooth missing as he writhes and groans on the ground. I look down on the wretch, my anger raging like a wildfire inside me and my spear begging me to flip it around and let it finish the job. It takes me a long moment to get myself under control. ¡°Reutsa, Ksakei, Tsemu, get him tied up. He¡¯s going to stand trial before my brother. Shelit, Versha, Netru, Wqetle, get that one redressed and make a travois so we can take him back.¡± I order. The girls get to it and I turn to the titchy redheaded local, lying on the ground gagged with Qrez¡¯s sling. Her eyes widen and her breathing quickens as I approach and she starts vainly trying to push herself away from me with her unbound legs. I stop and, forcing calm into my voice, say ¡°Heeeeey girl¡­ Is alright¡­ Not to hurt you¡­ Is safe now!¡± She seems to calm a little at the reassurance but she¡¯s obviously still scared witless! Slowly and gently, I reach out to her face and pull the sling rope out of her mouth, then pinch the wadding and withdraw it from between her teeth. With her ungagged, I kindly ask ¡°You alright?¡± ¡°¡­Nooooo?¡± she whimpers. ¡°Ah¡­ sorry¡­ is bad question. You hurt? You sit tall?¡± The only answer she gives is a heartbreaking blubber but she does at least rock herself into a seated position. I round her back. I¡¯m reaching for my knife when I stop myself. As tempting as it is to just cut this rope (since it¡¯ll need to be destroyed anyway to keep the rot of this sin from contaminating anything else it might be used for in future) and have done with it, having a stone edge drawn on her is certainly not what this girl needs right now! As I dig my nails into the knots, trying my best to get them loose, the girl dimly asks ¡°This wasn¡¯t¡­? They weren¡¯t¡­?¡± ¡°This bad thing us, same like you!¡± I preempt her ¡°VERY bad! So sorry!¡± hoping my sincerity comes across even in my broken Basinspeak. I eventually manage to get her wrists free and pull her to her feet. The tiny girl is heavier than I expected but not a problem for me. I bend down and pick up her dress before turning around to hand it to her. ¡°Here¡­¡± I say. Her eyes go from the dress to me, then- ¡°*Oof*!¡± I grunt as the naked girl impacts my midriff, sobbing into my front and jabbering far too fast for me to understand, crushing me slightly as her arms pin mine to my sides. I raise a hand to pat her back and, not sure what else to do, just do my best to make reassuring noises at her. Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Ten ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- My feet crunch against last night¡¯s snow as I march across the distance that separates the edge of the forest from the outlanders¡¯ camp. Grey clouds loom over the plains threatening yet more snow. My hand clenches against the shaft of my spear as imaginary spectres of tall men with flat, leering, brown eyed faces loom towards me. My heart thunders behind my sternum as I storm through the trade area and on between the tents. Distantly, I register how deserted it all seems but my destination is what dominates my thoughts. I draw up to the largest tent in the middle of the camp and rip the curtain aside. ¡°We need to talk!¡± I snarl as a stifling wall of heat hits me in the face. The next instant, I register that the man I came to demand answers from is indeed present, facing away from me on the other side of an overfuelled fire¡­ he¡¯s not alone¡­ and he¡¯s not clothed! His naked back is painted with swirling black lines of charcoal paint, being applied to him by the outland shamaness, body fully clothed and concentration on her face. For a second, I wonder if I interrupted him and the old witch during foreplay but quickly conclude otherwise, just from the strange context. She turns to me and snarls ¡°Kseltam! Ikrie¡¯en tsaletveh-¡± But the slim man raises his hand and, in a low, hoarse voice, soothes ¡°Shletaen, Kseley¡­ Wuy¡¯ents nun tsanezgu¡­¡± The old woman shoots me one last dirty look before returning to her body painting. Using words I can understand, the man wearily says ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Raala. I cannot speak to you now. I have a duty to perform. I know why you are here and we may discuss it afterwards.¡± without turning to face me. ¡°But-¡± I shout in objection. ¡°Afterwards.¡± he repeats, not loudly but with a power that makes me fall silent instantly. He isn¡¯t acting anything like I¡¯ve seen him act before. None of the normal simpering flirtatiousness. None of the oozing warmth and charm. None of the boyish youth. If I¡¯d met this version of him first, I wouldn¡¯t have had any problem believing he was the leader of hundreds! Testing the tackiness of his paint with her thumb and seeming satisfied that it¡¯s dried, the shamaness picks up a carved wooden shape that I don¡¯t get a good look at, brings it to the front of his head and binds it there. He stands, allowing me to see that, like his upper body, his legs are bare and covered in swirling lines of charcoal paint. A simple loin cloth is the only clothing on his entire slender, sinewy body. The shamaness rounds his front and hands him a large pelt which, with some ceremony, is draped over his painted shoulders and loosely covers him down to the shins. She then fetches something else which she presents to his hand. It¡¯s a thick staff of dense, heavy looking wood, about as long as I am tall¡­ maybe a little longer. At the top, long, gnarled roots twist around a perfectly smooth, round river rock, similar to the way that the outlander¡¯s long, slim fingers grip the staff itself. The towering man turns and a swoop of fear fills my guts for a moment as I see the mask he wears over his black lined face. Above his mouth rests a row of lipless wooden teeth carved into its bottom. Above that there is a hollow nose. Either side of that, his unnaturally brown eyes peer down through the eye sockets. Despite the flat brow and vertical forehead, what this mask represents is obvious.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. It¡¯s a skull! Rounding the fire, the skull faced man passes where I stand, frozen in place, and I feel the chill of the outside on my back as he leaves the tent. Another moment passes¡­ then I follow him. ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- It starts to snow again as I walk through the deserted camp towards the place of my horrid duty. I don¡¯t want to do this! I especially don¡¯t want to do this in front of any of the Basinfolk (the one I can hear trudging along behind me least of all!) but the alternative is allowing them to think that such a vile sin might have had no answer! Will they be understanding? Can they possibly accept that we are simply a different people with different ways? Based on my experience, I¡¯d guess not! I would guess that this will be yet another source of fear and mistrust for them. And maybe they¡¯re even right to feel that way¡­ In the Moon since we arrived, we¡¯ve already killed a herd of mammoths, almost fed them the taboo meat from that sin, almost raped one of their women and now¡­? Now they¡¯re about to have one more thing to be afraid of¡­ something which can¡¯t just be blamed on my chief warrior becoming deranged! This is about to change the way they see us in a potentially irreversible way. I reflect bitterly that, in my whole life, I only ever saw my father use this club twice¡­ It feels very unfair that I need to do so so soon after our arrival here. Qrez, you Cycle damned fucking idiot! Why did you put us all in this position!? My follower and I exit the camp to the Southeast and pass between two knolls. Standing ahead of us in silence are almost every Deltaman and woman in the Basin, lining the inside of this hollow. As they come into view, I hear the crunching footsteps behind me falter for a moment before continuing. Without looking at her, I mutter ¡°Your people are over there on the right, Raala¡­ Please join them if you wish to watch¡­¡± She gives no answer but I hear her footsteps peel off in the direction of the small crowd of redheads, standing toward the top of the right slope. A way clears for me through the crowd as I approach. I step out of my shoes and throw off the fur cloak I wore for the journey, exposing my mostly nude, painted body to the freezing air. I step onto the searingly cold snow with my bare feet and raise my father¡¯s club high to my right. In spite of how thrashed my voice is from last nights trial, I shout loud enough for all to hear ¡°There is JUSTICE to be done!¡± In response, 400 voices bark back ¡°HEUH! HEUH!!!¡± In my peripheral vision, I see the locals startle at what may well be the loudest noise any of them have ever heard. ¡°There is justice to be WITNESSED!¡± I scream, tensing my muscles to fight off shivers from the cold. ¡°HEUH! HEUH!!!¡± my people answer. ¡°A deed so vile that not to right would make us guilty in turn!¡± ¡°HEUH! HEUH!!!¡± ¡°A wound so soiled that, unless scoured, it would fester and infect us ALL!¡± ¡°HEUH! HEUH!!!¡± I gesture around with the club ¡°A wrong so profound, only DEATH can serve as answer!¡± ¡°HEUH! HEUH!!!¡± ¡°We, the people of the Great River Delta, cannot allow such a rot to fester among us!¡± ¡°HEUH! HEUH!!!¡± ¡°This wound must be cleansed!¡± ¡°HEUH! HEUH!!!¡± Here, I reach the centre of the crowd where there¡¯s a clear ring around a waist height rise. On top is a large, flat stone and, next to it, a scowling man with a bruised face and a missing tooth, bound into a kneeling position, ropes leading from his shoulders to the foot of the embankment and held by Reutsa and Bwey. ¡°This burden is mine to bear! Mine and none other¡¯s!¡± I declare, indirectly absolving my sister and the half Westwoman for the minor roles they¡¯re playing. ¡°HEUH! HEUH!!!¡± Mounting the embankment, I turn East and scream ¡°BEAR WITNESS!¡± ¡°HEUH! HEUH!!!¡± I turn South ¡°THIS IS THE PRICE OF RAPACIOUS GREED!¡± ¡°HEUH! HEUH!!!¡± I turn West ¡°THIS IS WHAT MUST ANSWER ACTS OF SUCH WANTON CRUELTY AND MALICE!¡± ¡°HEUH! HEUH!!!¡± I turn North and my eyes briefly fix on where Raala stands, looking horrified at what she¡¯s clearly inferred to be happening here. Begging her and the rest to understand, even though I know they can¡¯t, I proclaim ¡°I swing the club, not to punish but to cleanse!¡± ¡°HEUH! HEUH!!!¡± I turn now to Qrez and the ropes go taut in a way that forces his head down onto the rock. I touch the head of the club to his temple, just to make sure I have the range right. ¡°Qrez¡­ may the Cycle grant you the mercy I cannot! May your essence find the peace you have denied us here!¡± I say, fighting down the shudders that wrack my chest and threaten to make their way into my voice. ¡°You¡¯ll all REGRET this! You¡¯ll see I was RIGHT! You¡¯ll see you NEEDED me!!!¡± screams the dead man. I raise the club. Drums boom rhythmically as my people chant ¡°HEUH! HEUH! HEUH! HEUH! HEUH! HEUH! HEUH! HEUH! HEUH! HEUH! HEUH!!!¡± I roar as I bring down my father¡¯s club with all my might! Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Eleven ---Ksem¡¯s perspective---
I¡¯m so tired¡­ The Winters this far North have a noticeably lesser proportion of sunlight in their days than they did back where I¡¯m from, meaning the walk I¡¯ve had to make here needed me to be up before the Sun rose! Though that¡¯s very natural to Old Red¡¯s folk, it¡¯s not even slightly natural to mine! My weariness is compounded by the knowledge that this is only the halfway point of my journey. I still have to make the walk back¡­ since I somehow doubt I¡¯ll be able to count on their hospitality for the night. Still¡­ it must be done¡­ I must try¡­ I round a bend in the path, marked with a black footprint, the toes letting me know I¡¯m still travelling the right direction, and see a girl. She¡¯s about Eshker¡¯s age. She¡¯s bare armed and otherwise lightly clothed, even in this cold! Seeing me, her eyes go wide and she hops down from the rock she was sitting atop, sprinting away towards the huts that just came into view (about as fast as I can run despite being only about two thirds my height), her sandaled feet crunching through the thin layer of snow with absolutely no fear of slipping and falling. ¡°EVERYONE! ONE OF THE MURDERERS IS HERE!!!¡± screams the terrified child at the top of her lungs. I wince! It isn¡¯t being identified as a ¡®murderer¡¯ that so upsets me¡­ I expected that much. It¡¯s being identified as ¡®one of¡¯ the murderers. This child does not know me as the one who swung the club, she simply recognises me as an outlander and, to her as to her clan I suppose, it seems all of us became murderers the moment my father¡¯s club struck Qrez¡¯s skull. A half dozen stocky redheaded locals appear from the buildings, their faces grim, and converge in my direction. I don¡¯t react until I¡¯m standing around 10 paces from them. I stop, lock eyes with the one handed man who just pushed his way to the front and lightly toss my bow into the snow at his feet. ¡°I need to talk to you.¡± I state, simply. ¡°You can talk from where you are, outlander.¡± he returns, his voice monotone. ¡°Please¡­¡± I beg ¡°¡­let me come in and explain myself¡­¡± His brow twitches as he stands there, considering. Finally, he answers ¡°Fine¡­ Come in and make your case¡­ for all the good it will do.¡± ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- I follow my dad into the sleeping hut, uncomfortably aware of the murderer looming in behind me. I hear him stop as he enters and turn around to see him placing his bent, stringed stick into the rack while taking his bag of feathered sticks from behind him. ¡°That place is for weapons, outlander¡­¡± I correct. He turns his dark circle ringed, brown eyes to me and says ¡°I¡¯m aware¡­ That¡¯s why I¡¯m putting my weapon here.¡± before placing the bag down in front of the rack. ¡°What? You strangle people with the string(?)¡± I sneer. He does not answer, simply stooping beneath the ceiling and walking past me to take a seat on the ground opposite my dad. Scowling, I sit down too, facing the murderer and crossing my arms over my chest. There¡¯s a moment of silence. I decide to break it, asking ¡°You look tired, outlander¡­ Guilt been keeping you up(?)¡± He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before answering ¡°Not guilt, no¡­ Remorse, perhaps, but not guilt¡­¡± ¡°Those two words mean the same thing!¡± I spit. ¡°That wasn¡¯t how I intended them¡­¡± he answers with infuriating calm ¡°¡­¡®Guilt¡¯ would mean I believed myself to have acted wrongly. ¡®Remorse¡¯ simply means I regret what I needed to do¡­ without requiring a determination of whether my actions were right or wrong.¡± ¡°Well (if you¡¯re finished teaching us our own language(!)) do I have it right from that that you don¡¯t think murder is wrong then?¡± ¡°Murder is certainly wrong. I don¡¯t consider what I did to be murder.¡± he states. My dad frowns and leans forward ¡°Is your chief hunter still alive then?¡± ¡°No, he is dead.¡± asserts the outlander, immediately. ¡°And he¡¯s dead because of what you did to him?¡± my dad clarifies. ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± ¡°Then how was this not murder?¡± Sighing and clearly reluctant to speak, the slender, dark skinned murderer answers ¡°To my people, not all killing is murder¡­ What I did to Qrez¡­ we call it ¡®execution¡¯¡­ It¡¯s what we do instead of unnaming and exiling our worst transgressors¡­ Execution and killing in defence of self or others are not murder to us¡­ There must be malice in a murder. There was no malice in this.¡± There¡¯s a long moment of silence as we absorb his alarming explanation of his people¡¯s ways.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°That¡¯s-¡± my dad starts, his usually flat voice audibly shaken. ¡°It¡¯s frightening! I know!¡± says the man, his baby face screwing up as if he were about to burst into tears ¡°Like us not sharing a religion, us having different ideas of how to enact justice is one of those things I determined it was probably best not to open our relationship with¡­ the same way you don¡¯t open a friendship by telling the person all the worst things about you¡­ A decision I now regret¡­ I¡¯m so sorry! I promise, if you let us stay, we will be open, honest and forthright with you about everything from here on out!¡± I lean forward, disgust painted on my face, and ask ¡°Why kill?¡­ Explain it to us, outlander.¡± His face twists as he thinks before answering ¡°¡­The short answer is ¡®tradition¡¯¡­ We execute because it¡¯s what our parents and our grandparents and their grandparents did, the same as unnaming and exiling is for you¡­ If you want my speculation on how it started, why the first of us was executed; I suppose it was simply to keep them from doing further harm¡­ The same way a wound must be scoured to keep it from necrotising or a necrotic body part must be amputated to keep it from killing the person its attached to, someone who has so violated the principles of our society must be removed from that society, lest their rot do further harm.¡± ¡°Then why not exile? Doesn¡¯t that also ¡®remove them from the society¡¯?¡± I sneer. ¡°Yes¡­ but less effectively¡­ To us, that¡¯s like cutting off the limb and throwing it just outside your hearthstead where it will continue to fester. We were so much more numerous than you that an exiled transgressor might simply slip into another clan who hadn¡¯t heard of his exile, pretending to be just dispersing from his clan for exogamous purposes¡­ Even if that weren¡¯t so, my understanding is (at least comparing our best to your average) we are better solo survivors than you¡­ An exiled person in the prime of health might hang around the wilderness between clans¡¯ camps for decades¡­ And let me tell you, for all of his faults, Qrez was unquestionably the best surviving hunter of our people! If I had exiled him, he either would have lingered around here, seeking out whoever his warped perspective told him it was acceptable to make a victim of, or he would have travelled somewhere else and done the same thing there, to people who had nothing to do with him and knew nothing about him! Ending his life was the only way to keep his rot from spreading! It¡¯s-¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard enough¡­¡± my dad interrupts, extending his hand with three fingers raised ¡°¡­there are just three rules my people will be exiled for transgressing; desecration, rape and murder. In the course of three days, your chief hunter committed the first, attempted the second and you committed the last. Our peoples are clearly too different to coexist. We obviously can¡¯t make you leave but, if you stay you will be doing so against our wishes¡­ None of Bison will continue the trade with you and I don¡¯t think the other clans will either.¡± The outlander¡¯s face falls distraught as he says ¡°Please!¡­ Sir!¡­ We came so far to get here! I honestly don¡¯t know what we¡¯ll do if you send us away! These are just¡­¡± ¡°Shut up!¡± I hiss, raising my hand to stop him from speaking and turning my ear to the door. ¡°No! You have to lis-¡± ¡°I said shut up!¡± I repeat, desperately trying to disconfirm the prickling feeling that¡¯s making its way up my spine. Hearing shouting, I launch to my feet and stamp to the weapons rack, saying ¡°The cavebear¡¯s back, dad¡­ Wait here!¡­ Outlander, as soon as it¡¯s safe, run away!¡± The murderer¡¯s already at my side, reaching for his string stick. Furious, my hand flies up to the level of my shoulder and violently thrusts out into the top of his gut, just below his ribcage. He¡¯s hurled backwards and lands on the floor, looking up at me. I round on him, spear in hand and snarl ¡°I SAID wait HERE, outlander!¡­ That thing will KILL you with your stupid string stick and I don¡¯t want your people coming here to ¡®execute¡¯ us because they think we did it! Wait until it¡¯s distracted, then FUCK OFF home and don¡¯t come back!¡± I storm from the tent. I immediately get line of sight on the monster and start sprinting towards it, screaming! Vounul, Warva, Krogru and Lut are already gathered around it, spears in hand. I see the scar I left on its scalp the night it killed my brother and Morlu. ¡°BACK FOR MORE, FUCKER?!¡­ DIDN¡¯T LEARN YOUR LESSON THE FIRST TIME!?!?!?¡± It roars back, causing me to briefly relive the sound of hundreds of babyfaced outlanders baying for the blood of one of their own! Clearly, this monster did learn its lesson¡­ It learned not to attack us at night when there are twenty able bodied people sleeping nearby ready to defend what¡¯s ours. It learned to attack when most of us are out and the only ones left are the children, the infirmed and those who happened to be on a slow day! The five of us just aren¡¯t a match for this monster! Vounul gets too close and takes a glancing swipe from the back of the cavebear¡¯s treetrunk thick arm. He¡¯s hurled through the air but I can tell before he¡¯s landed that it¡¯s not fatal¡­ likely going to mean him spending at least the next 10 breaths out of the fight, though! The bear turns and slams the side of its skull into Lut, throwing him to the ground and sending him skidding across the snowy grass. The beast thrashes around with all the power of 30 men acting together! Warva and Krogru are both bowled over. I¡¯m now all that stands between the monster and the hearthstead¡­ where the kids are, where my dad is, where the Winter stores are and where the outlander might still be. Death surrounds me on all sides; the maw of the insomniac cavebear in front, Winter starvation behind and, if that outland murderer is still here¡­ if the bear gets to him, we¡¯ll all have our heads forced onto rocks by his gangling, babyfaced tribe so they can bash our brains out to serve their outlandish notion of ¡®justice¡¯! I think I¡¯d rather be mauled or starve to death than face such a disgustingly unnatural end! If those are my options, then there is no disengaging! I¡¯ve got to either kill this bear or it¡¯s got to kill me! Hardening my resolve, I rush forward but, at that exact moment, the bear charges me. My spear skips off its hide and I take its head full in the chest! I¡¯m flung backwards. Lungs squashed, I gasp, trying to take in any air¡­ trying to summon any strength to get back to my feet. I hear thunderously heavy footsteps approaching me. Looking over my feet, I see the bear drawing near. I grasp for my spear but find it nowhere in reach. The monster¡¯s underside passes over my front. It pushes off the ground to rear up onto its hindlegs, looming over me with its enormous mass. It opens it snout and lets out a deafening, victorious bellow! Then, something incredibly strange happens. Faster than the blink of an eye, a branch, as straight as a spear and with broadleaves at its tip, bursts out of the bear¡¯s face, cutting short its triumphant roar. It takes a handful of breaths to seem to finally realise it¡¯s dead¡­ It goes limp, starts to topple forward and, just in time, I¡¯m able to roll out from under it and avoid being crushed as it thunders to the ground. After the moments it takes me to open my lungs back up (all the while staring at the immobile mass of matted brown fur beside me, in case it starts moving again), I stand. I walk up to the animal¡¯s head, checking the back of it¡¯s skull for where the freak branch entered. I see no wound there. I get to its front and see the shaft protruding from its left eye. It¡¯s not covered in viscera¡­ meaning it must have actually entered from this side instead of the back, like I initially thought. The straight shaft is also obviously crafted but way too short and thin to be a throwing spear. I look to the leaves and see that they¡¯re actually feathers¡­ Feathers I recognise! I turn my head back to the sleeping hut. Fifty paces away, I see a tall, slim, flatfaced murderer who I told to fuck off and save himself, standing with his left arm extended, holding a bent stick. His piercing brown eyes meet my terrified green ones¡­ Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Twelve ---Bwey¡¯s perspective--- ¡°And¡­ you¡¯re sure you can¡¯t take anyone with you?¡± I ask, looking up into my brother¡¯s smiling face. Some of the light that fled after Qrez¡¯s trial has returned to his eyes. The dark circles have also faded a little¡­ ¡°Like I said¡­¡± he brings his right thumb to the top joint of his right littlefinger ¡°¡­I¡¯m the only one who was invited¡­¡± he moves it to the next joint down ¡°¡­even if I brought nine bodyguards (the maximum I could take without them, myself and my chaperones becoming a party of more than twelve), the ten of us still wouldn¡¯t be anything like a match for a full clan of twenty to thirty locals and¡­¡± his counter thumb reaches the bottom joint ¡°¡­to kill just isn¡¯t a part of their nature!¡­ Especially not pretending to be giving me an honour only to get me away from help¡­ It¡¯s not their way!¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± I wryly observe ¡°¡­you have the scars to prove that ¡®their way¡¯ isn¡¯t immutable though, don¡¯t you(!)¡± poking the place on his midriff where he was slashed twice across the stomach by a frightened, carmine haired local in a cedar forest beneath a snowy mountain, down South. ¡°Kwenyolog apologised¡­ I just scared him is all!¡± Ksem objects. ¡°Fat lot of good his apology would¡¯ve done if those slashes had been just a hair deeper(!)¡­ It still proves that their whole ¡®no killing¡¯ thing isn¡¯t nature¡­ it¡¯s just culture! If they¡¯re scared enough, they can discard it¡­ and you¡¯ve given them plenty to be scared of you for!¡± ¡°Fair point¡­ but that situation isn¡¯t the same as this one¡­ I killed a killer bear! That has weight to the locals¡­ Making this trip, letting them name me a Bane¡­ it¡¯s going to make me a part of their community! I¡¯ll carry some standing, some cachet with them afterwards! I won¡¯t just be an ¡®outlander¡¯ and, by extension, neither will the rest of you!¡­ Whatever the risks, they¡¯re worth taking!¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ still don¡¯t really get how that works¡­! You kill a rapist and they hate you for it, you kill an animal and that somehow makes killing the rapist fine?¡± I ask, dubiously. ¡°Kind of¡­ More like it ¡®redeems¡¯ me, I guess¡­?¡± I sigh and push my brother¡¯s bow out of the way to pull him into a hug. ¡°Whatever, dummy!¡­ Just be careful, alright?¡± Wrapping his arms around me, he answers ¡°I will, BweBwe. I promise.¡± ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- The most muscular man I¡¯ve ever met sits opposite me in the wayside shelter, scrutinising my stubbled lower face. ¡°So¡­ your people do grow beards then?¡± he asks, stroking his own (luxuriantly thick) red beard in confusion. ¡°Yes, Wuurlo, we do.¡± I chuckle in genuine amusement. ¡°And¡­ you scrape them off?¡± he clarifies, baffled. ¡°We do indeed. I¡¯ve just decided to travel without my shaving stuff¡­ that¡¯s why mine¡¯s coming back.¡± ¡°Is it just the men? Your women don¡¯t grow beards, do they?¡± he asks, intrigued. ¡°No¡­ None that I¡¯m aware of at least(!)¡± He ponders that before observing ¡°I assumed your men all being beardless was just part and parcel of your having child faces, not an active part of your grooming regimen!¡­ Why scrape off your beards if nature gave them to you?¡± ¡°You mean you want us to hide these cute babyfaces of ours(?) Not on your life(!)¡± I joke. He chuckles but is clearly still waiting for a real answer. I sigh as I realise ¡°I honestly don¡¯t really know¡­ Just another tradition of ours¡­ Maybe it has something to do with cleanliness? Maybe heat dispersal?¡­ Whatever the reason, our men just shave their faces.¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± he acknowledges ¡°¡­why don¡¯t you do your eyebrows too then?¡± I laugh at that and ask ¡°Have you ever seen what a man looks like without eyebrows, Wuurlo? I have! It doesn¡¯t look good!¡­ He looked like he had a strange disease(!)¡­ And, of course, it was way harder to read his emotions without them! Just a weird look, I think!¡± ¡°I think grown men without beards is a weird look, personally¡­(!)¡± he answers, wryly. I let out another hearty laugh at that, interrupted by Raala announcing ¡°The Sun¡¯s going down¡­ we should get the fire going.¡± her voice as humourless and dour as it¡¯s been all three days of travelling together so far. ¡°Oh! Please allow me!¡± I say, pulling out my fire pouch. The other two stop paying attention as I go over to the fire we built earlier and withdraw a wad of tinder. However, I¡¯m able to see that the next thing I produce causes both heads to turn to me inquisitively. Raala clearly wants to know but doesn¡¯t want to give me the satisfaction of addressing me directly so it¡¯s Wuurlo who¡¯s first to ask ¡°What¡¯s that? Where¡¯s your spindle and hearthboard?¡± ¡°Oh this?¡± I smile, innocently, holding up the glittering yellow stone ¡°My people call it ¡®pyrite¡¯. It translates to ¡®fire stone¡¯. We use it together with flint to make fire. I would¡¯ve shown you yesterday or the day before but you already had the fire going by the time I got back from my evening walks.¡± Raala scowls, clearly torn between her desire not to directly acknowledge me and her desire to call me a liar for claiming I can use a rock to make fire. ¡°You can¡¯t use a rock to make fire! That¡¯s ridiculous!¡± laughs Wuurlo, much more goodnaturedly than Raala wanted to! I raise both my eyebrows and smile ¡°Oh yeaaah?¡± I see the certainty drain from the man¡¯s face as he leans forward, extends his hand and invites ¡°Show us?¡± I smirk, hold the pyrite over the dried, crushed fungus, raise the flint and bring it down. A shower of sparks cascade from the collision of the different minerals. In my peripheral vision, I can see both of the two locals tense with shock. Another strike, another cascade of sparks, then another and¡­ the tinder catches! I hurriedly scoop it to my mouth and begin firmly blowing on it to get the ember to ignite, sending billowing clouds of smoke out as I do. Finally, the flame flickers to life. I push it into the cavity in the kindling at the bottom of the firepit, continuing to blow until we have a roaring fire. I look up and see both of my travelling companions looking at me in stunned silence. Eventually, Wuurlo raises a finger to point to my hand and demands ¡°What do you want for that rock!?¡± utterly fixated on it. I smile and gently refuse ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t be persuaded to part with this one¡­ It¡¯s come all the way from my homeland with me and it has some sentimental value on that account¡­¡± The man¡¯s face falls in disappointment and I hear Raala give an irritated ¡°*Tch*!¡± as she turns her head away in disgust. ¡°However¡­¡± I say, perking him back up and causing her to look partway back in my direction ¡°¡­the people on the other side of the Western Mountains told us they recognised this stone¡­ Told us they¡¯d seen it up there¡­ Perhaps, after we get back, we could make an expedition to find it? Maybe when Spring comes?¡± My words light up the man¡¯s face like I just lit up the fire. Raala is¡­ less impressed. ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- I sit up, awake and watching the doorway as the other two slumber on the other side of the room. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. It¡¯s always boring to be the only one on watch¡­ Little wonder solo watchers so often end up falling asleep! Wuurlo¡¯s snoring has been about the only thing keeping me awake¡­ well¡­ that and¡­ I find my eyes drifting over to the weapons rack¡­ and feel my heart beat faster! The long, straight, unbladed staff there is calling my name to me through the gloom¡­ begging me to discover its secrets! I know I shouldn¡¯t¡­ I know nothing good can come of meddling with such powerful magic¡­ but¡­ My eyes flick to where its owner lies asleep on the floor. Quiet as the dead, I rise from my seat and pad over to where he sleeps. I kneel and study the man¡¯s face, only just able to make out his baby features by the starlight that¡¯s creeping in under the door curtain. I stay there, watching him and allowing his tangy scent to fill my nostrils for a long time before I satisfy myself that he won¡¯t wake up. Rising again, I creep over to the rack and, oh-so-carefully, lift the long, smooth, flexible piece of wood from where he left it, fully aware that a wooden clonk would immediately wake both men. Having pulled it free, I creep to the doorway curtain and squeeze through its side with the borrowed weapon. The light of the clear starfield over the leafless, snowy landscape is almost blinding after the near total darkness of the hut! My breath hits the air as a cloud of steam. I walk slowly away, trying not to let my footfalls crunch too loudly. Having walked about 10 paces, I stop to admire the weapon that let that mere slip of a man kill a cavebear! It¡¯s taller than I am and, holding it where he holds it, I need to raise my arm significantly just to keep it off the ground. The curve, I learned, is put into the wood by the string and, currently unstrung, it¡¯s spearshaft straight! The string dangles from the top. I take its end in my left hand, bringing the base of the loop between my thumb and forefinger. Holding the unstrung end in my right, I try to pull them close enough together that I can hook the one around the notch in the other. I fail¡­ Seems doing it that way is impossible! I think back to seeing the outlander do it. I frown, thinking hard, then brace the strung end against the ground at an angle, step between it and the string and bend the staff around my leg. Doing it his way made it very easy! The bow now strung, I hold it in my left hand and bring my right across my front to pinch the string. I try and pull it back but barely get any flexion at all before it simply pulls itself out from between my fingers, making a quiet, dull *twang* instead of the powerful *fwoom* I¡¯ve heard it make when he uses it. What did I do wrong? Maybe if-? ¡°You know, Sunbeam¡­¡± comes a deep, quiet voice from behind me. My every muscle stiffens and my eyes go wide in terror as I whip around to see the gigantic, murdering man looming over me, somehow having snuck up without a sound despite the snow! ¡°¡­if you¡¯d wanted to try out my bow, you could have just asked(!)¡± he continues, smirking ¡°I¡¯d be happy to teach you how to use it?¡± ¡°What makes you think I need you to teach me anything, outlander!?¡± I snarl (not loudly enough that Wuurlo might wake up and interrupt). ¡°Uhm¡­ well¡­*hehe*¡­ You¡¯re holding it in the wrong hand for one thing(!)¡± he teases. ¡°I¡¯m holding it in the same hand you hold it in!¡± I snap back, not sure why he¡¯s bothering with such a lie? ¡°You are¡­ but that¡¯s the right hand for me¡­ I¡¯m righthanded. So, for me, the bow goes in my left hand¡­ You, on the other hand, are a leftie¡­ Unless I¡¯m mistaken?¡± he asks with all the confidence in the world that he isn¡¯t. Instead of giving him the satisfaction, I demand ¡°Why would you use this weapon in your offhand!? That doesn¡¯t make sense!¡± ¡°Ah well, you see¡­¡± he says, reaching to pull his bow out of my grip. He holds it in his left and extends that arm. ¡°¡­all this hand needs to do is hold the bow as I draw. It¡¯s not exactly easy¡­ but it¡¯s not complicated either¡­ My drawhand, on the other hand¡­¡± he raises his right ¡°¡­has a lot of complicated motions to go through for every arrow I shoot. It¡¯s got to pull an arrow from my quiver¡­¡± he mimes pulling something long from his back ¡°¡­bring it to the string, nock it, draw it and release it. It makes sense that it would need to be my dexterous hand that does all that¡­ Next, your draw¡­¡± ¡°What about my draw?¡± I sulk, hating that he¡¯s teaching me even though I am absolutely desperate to learn what he¡¯s teaching me! ¡°Weeell¡­¡± he smirks ¡°¡­if I¡¯m not mistaken, based on the handsbreadth of draw you got before the early release, you were trying to pinch the string, right?¡± ¡°And that¡¯s not how to do it, I take it(!)¡± ¡°You take it right!¡± he smiles, seeming completely unphased by the attitude I¡¯m giving him. He pinches the string ¡°See how I¡¯m having to tilt my hand out of alignment with my forearm to get my thumb and forefinger to line up where the string is like this?¡­ That means force from the rest of my body needs to travel around a corner here and it means that I¡¯m having to waste muscle power in order to keep that flex in my wrist¡­ Also, I don¡¯t know about you but I know I just can¡¯t pinch hard enough to hold the string while I¡¯m drawing. It just immediately slips out between my fingers.¡± ¡°So what¡¯s the right way then?!¡± I huff, not letting him know how exactly right he was about my pinch technique. His brown eyes glitter as he brings up his right forefinger and middlefinger before curling them over and bringing them to the string. ¡°You hook the string, like this!¡± he smiles. I scowl. Seemingly oblivious, he continues ¡°So, wide stance like this¡­¡± he brings his feet apart ¡°¡­your lower back leans forward, your upper back leans back¡­ Looks a little goofy but I promise it helps!¡­ The force only looks like its coming from your arms. It¡¯s mostly coming from your shoulders and core and this pose helps engage them properly¡­You raise the bow over your head like this, offhand at the centre of the stave, dominant in the middle of the string and, watch my hands because left is going to go down and forward and right is going to come down and¡­*nnggh*¡­back!¡± drawing the bow, voice strained with the effort ¡°Then you just unhook your fingers to release!¡± *Fwoom* Enthusiastically, he extends the bow to me and says ¡°Now you try!¡± Despite not wanting to take anything this man might want to give me¡­ I am very curious to see how I can do after his guidance. I reluctantly reach my right hand out for the weapon (which feels quite wrong). Spreading my feet, I tilt my lower back forward and my chest back, lift the bow over my head like he did, hook my left fore and middlefinger around the string and, while trying my best to engage my shoulders, push my right arm down and forward and twist my left down and back. I draw with all my might and¡­ still only get a draw about half as long as his! Slightly breathless from the effort (as well as the way applying it locked up my chest, making breathing difficult) I turn on him and demand ¡°Alright, now what?¡± He simpers and shrugs ¡°Nothing really!¡­ You did everything more or less right that time¡­ you¡¯re just not strong enough.¡± Outraged, I accuse ¡°So you lied when you said I was stronger than you then?¡± ¡°No¡­ I didn¡¯t¡­ You will be much stronger than me in nearly every way¡­ I can tell by looking at you.¡± ¡°Alright, so how could it possibly be the case that you¡¯re strong enough for this thing but I¡¯m not then?!¡± He smirks ¡°You¡¯ve seen my back, right? Anything in particular strike you about it?¡± The image of the toned, defined muscles of a slender, brown skinned back painted with swirling black lines swims into my mind¡¯s eye. ¡°No¡­ nothing I can remember, anyway.¡± I lie, getting not a little satisfaction from the disappointment I see on his face. ¡°Well¡­ it¡¯s quite muscular¡­¡± he says, a little sheepish and subdued at having to supply that fact himself ¡°¡­and¡­ that¡¯s because I¡¯ve spent my whole life training with bows. The only real way to train the kind of power in the muscles you need to draw a bow like this is by drawing weaker ones until you¡¯re ready to graduate¡­ Honestly, getting as much draw as you did on your first try is very impressive¡­¡± Feeling pretty cheated over him misleading me into believing I might be able to use his magic, minispear launching weapon, only to find out I¡¯m still (what sounds like) several Winters¡¯ training away, I thrust his bow back into his chest and snap ¡°Why are you even awake, outlander?! I¡¯m only halfway through my turn on watch!¡± That insufferable smirk returns to his face as he answers ¡°Ah¡­ well¡­ (at least when it¡¯s not the crack of dawn(!)) I¡¯m quite a light sleeper¡­ Especially true on days where I haven¡¯t had quite enough exercise¡­ Sooooo¡­ when a green eyed shadow bends down over me, stays there just breathing heavily for 30 breaths then helps herself to my bow and leaves the hut, that¡¯s quite likely to get me up(!)¡± My cheeks immediately burn against the cold night air! Why didn¡¯t he stir if he was awake!?!?!? ¡°Y-you¡­ you should go back to sleep¡­ we¡¯ve still got several more days of walking before we reach Golden Eagle¡­ You don¡¯t want to be tired tomorrow¡­¡± I say, turning away to hide my blush. ¡°Ah¡­ no¡­ don¡¯t think I could get back to sleep any time soon¡­ I¡¯d happily spend the second half of your watch keeping you company though?¡­ Even if it might get a bit chilly staying out here to converse(!)¡± ¡°Th-that¡¯s stupid¡­ there¡¯s no reason for two of us to stand watch¡­ Either go back to bed or I will and you can take a watch and a half on your own!¡± ¡°Oh¡­ well¡­ that¡¯s a bit disappointing¡­ I was hoping to spend some time with you.¡± Confused, I turn back to the gangling, brown eyed outlander and look him up and down with contempt. Finally, I just ask ¡°You know I hate you, right?¡± ¡°Oh, of course!¡± he chuckles. ¡°Then¡­ why would you want to spend time with me?!¡­ My people tend to want to avoid people we hate and who hate us(!)¡± ¡°Well¡­ I don¡¯t hate you at all, Raala¡­¡± he smiles ¡°¡­Aaaaall the hatred in this relationship runs¡­¡± he gestures from me to himself, making a nonsense sound with his mouth ¡°*fwhhhhhp*¡­this way(!) As for why I¡¯d want to spend time with someone who hates me¡­ well, I tend to find that, if I don¡¯t do that, those people just keep hating me(!)¡­ I don¡¯t like being hated, so, spending time with my haters until they stop hating me is something I¡¯d just hate not to do!¡± I stare back at the absurd man, trying to parse out the string of word salad he just dumped onto me. Finally, I say ¡°¡­Oooooh¡­ so you¡¯re, like, completely insane then?¡± He chuckles ¡°Guess so(!)¡± ¡°Alright then, madman(!)¡­ What¡¯s it gonna be?¡­ You going back to bed or are you taking a watch and a half on your own?¡± His face falls, clearly having expected his charm to work well enough to get me to let him stay up with me. He looks up at the sky ¡°Guess I¡¯ll stay up¡­ the stars are pretty beautiful tonight¡­ You can take the rest of your shift to sleep.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ well¡­ thank you¡­¡± I frown, surprised that he¡¯s opting to stay up, even when the opportunity for his insipid flirting has been removed! I walk past him, back to the doorway curtain. I turn around, expecting him to be looking towards me, only to see him still staring up at the clear night sky and the uncountably many glittering stars adorning it. I think about quipping that threats won¡¯t come from the stars and that perhaps he ought to focus on the ground¡­ but the words die in my throat. I walk back into the warmth of the sleeping hut and lie down in the same place I knelt over, just a few hundred breaths ago. It still smells tangy¡­ My eyes are wide open¡­ I won¡¯t be sleeping any time soon¡­ and Wuurlo¡¯s snoring isn¡¯t the only reason(!) Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Thirteen ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- ¡°Nnnnnnnnnnnngh¡­!¡± groans the man sleeping face down on his flat fronted chest who, not half a Moon ago, I watched bash another¡¯s brains out of his head on a rock! ¡°We need to get up and get moving, outlander!¡± I snarl down at him. ¡°Wen¡¯ke tse weh-teshal nuuuuuur!¡± he jabbers without opening his eyes. ¡°What?¡± I sneer. Eyes still closed, he corrects ¡°Oh¡­ sorry¡­ fifty more breaths¡­ Please! I¡¯m so waaaarm!¡± pathetically. ¡°Mother Mammoth! NO!¡± I say, incredulously ¡°By the Maw! I should¡¯ve known better than to let you take first watch last night!¡­ You proved what a bad idea it was to give you anything but last watch on the first morning!¡­ If you don¡¯t get up, we might not make it to my grandmother¡¯s hearthstead before noon! Then there won¡¯t be enough time for the preparations and you¡¯ll need to wait until tomorrow for your ceremony!¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine¡­ I¡¯m alright sacrificing a day for a bit more sleep¡­¡± ¡°YOU might be but I¡¯m not! Wuurlo¡¯s already out hunting for your feast! You really want to embarrass us by getting there after him!?¡± ¡°Yep¡­ I¡¯m at peace with that¡­¡± he states, lazily. I scowl down, struggling to believe the absurdity of this man being defeated by his bed on the day he¡¯s going to be named a Bane! I decide I¡¯m not having it! ¡°Woah!¡± he objects as I seize the scruff of his neck, dragging him out of bed and across the floor by his collar. I fling the doorway curtain aside, revealing that the Sun¡¯s already a full twentieth of the way across the sky! I hurl him out of the entrance to land face down in the snow. He emits a very unattractive shriek at the sudden cold¡­ but does scramble to his feet. ¡°CYCLE, Raala! I¡¯m up!¡± ¡°Good¡­ Eat something quickly! I¡¯ll dig your blood flask out of the snow and we can be on our way.¡± ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- Our feet crunching through the snow are the only constant sound as we walk through the Wintery hills of Raala¡¯s grandmother¡¯s territory. Given how surly she¡¯s been whenever I¡¯ve initiated conversation with her while we¡¯ve travelled, I¡¯m content to be silent unless she wants to speak to me¡­ which she rarely does¡­ except to rip me out of bed at the crack of dawn(!) This is the first time we¡¯ve been alone together since the night she took my bow¡­ I think Wuurlo was sent with us mainly to keep an eye on me and make sure I didn¡¯t try to do anything to Raala like Qrez and Re¡¯lem tried to do to Lashra! It seems as if, in the time we¡¯ve been travelling, I¡¯ve either satisfied him of my decency¡­ ooooor satisfied him that I¡¯m such a comparative weakling that I wouldn¡¯t be able to do anything to Raala which she wasn¡¯t prepared to allow(!)¡­ Or maybe some combination? Anyway, it seems Wuurlo was happy to go hunting for my feast and leave me alone with her. I did offer to go hunting with him last night but was laughed at by both of them for the apparent absurdity of suggesting that I might catch my own naming feast dinner(!) One of 1,728 things about the local culture that Old Red never taught me, I suppose! There¡¯s so- ¡°Sooooo¡­?¡± I turn my head to look down at the woman who just interrupted my train of thought. Her face is contorted, thinking hard. ¡°¡­you don¡¯t believe in Mother Mammoth at all, then?¡± Ah¡­ that conversation! ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know if She exists, Raala¡­ but I don¡¯t believe she birthed the world, no.¡± ¡°What about the Great Eagle? The Forest of Plenty? The Great Elk? The Laughing Otter? The Bloody Speartooth? The Black Winged Bat? The Swift Hare? The Ravening Wolf and His Maw?¡± she rapidfires. ¡°Don¡¯t know, don¡¯t know, don¡¯t know, don¡¯t know, don¡¯t know, don¡¯t know, don¡¯t know, don¡¯t know but, as with the Forest of Plenty, pretty sure I¡¯m not going to end up there when I die!¡± I return, mirthfully. ¡°Sooooo¡­ what? Do you think we¡¯re all stupid for believing in them¡­ or are we lying then?¡± ¡°Ooof!¡± I laugh ¡°Tell me you¡¯ve never met someone of a different religion without telling me you¡¯ve never met someone of a different religion(!)¡­ I don¡¯t think you¡¯re stupid or lying about what you believe, truly!¡­ Like I said; I don¡¯t know if what you believe is even wrong! I could be right, you could be right, we might neither be right or we might both have got parts right about the nature of the metaphysical world! You don¡¯t think I¡¯m stupid or lying for not sharing your religion, right? For believing as I believe?¡± She frowns ¡°I don¡¯t have any clue what you believe, outlander!¡± ¡°Well, you could always ask, Sunbeam(!)¡± I observe. Her face screws up like she''s just bitten into an unripe doum fruit(!) I give her about 12 heartbeats to relent and ask before sighing and gesturing up at the Sun. ¡°You know how the Sun, the Moon, the stars and the planets all rise in the East, set in the West and return the next day? You know how the Moon waxes to full then wanes to new before waxing back to full again?¡­ You know that every year, Spring follows Winter, Summer follows Spring, Autumn follows Summer and Winter follows Autumn?¡­ You probably don¡¯t know that, back where I¡¯m from, every year, the 144 Channels would all burst their banks, late every Spring, and stay flooded until the end of Summer¡­ You know how animals eat food, it passes through their guts and becomes dung, then nourishes the plants that those same animals eat?¡­ You know how babies become children, children become youths, youths become adults, adults become elderly and then die, having had children of their own if they were lucky?¡± ¡°Yes! I understand all that!¡± she sulks, impatiently. ¡°Great¡­¡± I beam ¡°¡­then you understand the Cycle!¡­ All of that¡­ that¡¯s my faith.¡± Frustrated, she says ¡°No! It can¡¯t be that simple! How did the world begin?!¡± ¡°Who¡¯s to say the world had a beginning? That the Cycle hasn¡¯t just always been cycling?¡± ¡°What about when you die! What happens to you then?¡± ¡°Weeeeell¡­ I¡¯ve obviously never died, so I can¡¯t know for suuuuure but¡­ I believe my essence, my awareness, just goes back through the Cycle, same as my body does.¡± ¡°And¡­ that¡¯s whether you¡¯re good or bad?¡± she asks, suspiciously. ¡°Yep¡­ Whether I¡¯m good or bad.¡± ¡°Ha! Then you have no reason to ever be good!¡± she declares with premature triumph. ¡°Oh yeah?¡± I smirk. ¡°YES!¡± she doubles down ¡°If you don¡¯t believe there are consequences for doing bad things and rewards for good, you have no reason to do good or not to do bad!!!¡± Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°So¡­ the only reason you ever do good things is to get yourself into a forest where it¡¯s always Summer after your dead(?) To enjoy the overflowing game and forage for the rest of time(?)¡± Her scowl deepens. ¡°Aaaaand the only reason you don¡¯t do bad things is because you don¡¯t want to spend eternity being chewed on by a gigantic hungry wolf?¡­ Doesn¡¯t sound particularly good to me(!)¡­ Sounds a bit selfish actually(!)¡­ Take away the promise of the Forest of Plenty and the threat of the Ravening Wolf¡¯s Maw and you¡¯d just be running around killing, stealing and being an all round reprobate(?) Sounds like I¡¯m the ¡®good¡¯ one of us because I¡¯m the only one who does good without believing I¡¯ll get anything for it in return(!)¡± I tease. With her typical adorable acidity, she folds her arms and turns away from me. ¡°Don¡¯t feel too bad for losing, Sunbeam(!)¡­ Discussing the merits of his religion against ours was one of Old Red¡¯s favourite pastimes¡­ So, I have a 19 Winter headstart on you in religious debate(!)¡± I tease. ¡°Kinda sounds to me like you outlanders don¡¯t even have a religion! Like you only believe in the world of your senses! Maybe like you think you¡¯re the Gods¡­!¡± ¡°Well, that¡¯s not so! I certainly believe in love, friendship, justice, life after death, spirits, gods and many other things my eyes can¡¯t see and my hands can¡¯t touch! I just believe that all those things exist as parts of the Cycle.¡± ¡°Hmmph!¡± she huffs, irritably. ---Dirleya¡¯s perspective--- ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡± says my assistant, baby on hip as she enters the herb hut. ¡°Yes, Wulra?¡± I acknowledge, putting down my wormwood infusion. Her eyes flick to it and she says ¡°You might want to put that aside for today¡­ Your granddaughter is here¡­¡± Oh¡­ Another Bison death¡­ I know it shouldn¡¯t but it always stings a little more when it¡¯s my birth clan that- ¡°¡­and she¡¯s with the leader of the outlanders! You probably want a clear head to talk to him!¡± That stops all my thoughts dead in their tracks as fear swoops through my belly. ¡°The¡­ leader of the outlanders¡­ He¡¯s here now?!¡± I ask, getting to my feet and trying my best to ignore my every aching joint. ¡°He¡¯s sat at the hearth with your granddaughter.¡± As quickly as my arthritis allows, I pick up my headdress and place it over my head. ¡°How do I look, Wulra?¡± I ask, turning to her. ¡°Very venerable, Ma¡¯am.¡± she replies, handing me my staff. Satisfied with that answer, I hobble out of the hut. I look across the fire to where the man sits with my granddaughter. His chest is flat, his limbs and extremities are long and slim, his skin and eyes are brown, his ropey hair is black. His face has an uncanny mix of the handsome of a young man and the underdeveloped flatness of a baby (accentuated by the overall roundness of his head), only a light layer of black stubble covering his strange spurred chin. On seeing me, he shoots to his feet, revealing himself to be shockingly tall and slim indeed! By far the tallest man I¡¯ve ever seen! As I draw close, I determine that his elbow comes up to almost eyelevel on me! Even still ¡°¡­Disappointing¡­¡± I observe. Perturbed, the man politely clarifies ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡± I gesture him up and down and say ¡°I thought you¡¯d be taller(!) The rumours I¡¯ve been hearing were of a group of 4,000 outlanders descending on the plains(!) The heads of babies and skin as black as pine pitch(!) Each the height of a bull elk and led by a man as tall as a longtusk(!)¡­ You look fairly normal compared to what I expected(!)¡± A genuine smile breaks over his strange, handsome face as he laughs ¡°Ah!¡­ Sorry to disappoint you, Ma¡¯am(!) But yes, none of that is true¡­ There are just over 400 of us, not 4,000, this is what our heads look like, we only get a bit darker skinned than this and this is as tall as we come(!)¡± I laugh at the charming boy¡¯s answer. He speaks our language well, though he does have a noticeable accent. ¡°Shamaness Dirleya of Golden Eagle¡­ It is my pleasure!¡± I greet, holding out my palm to him. His eyes sparkle and he holds out his own hand, letting me know that this detail at least was accurate! He presses his long, spindly palm to mine, fingers pointed skyward (though they get nearly a palmwidth closer to the sky than mine do(!)) and replies ¡°Ksem of the 144 Channels¡­ the pleasure is mine, Ma¡¯am!¡± ¡°Lovely! ¡­ So¡­ what brings you to Golden Eagle with my granddaughter? This isn¡¯t an elopement, is it(?)¡± I grin. My boorish descendant lets out a disgusted scoff and the boy chuckles ¡°I¡­ err¡­ I don¡¯t think your granddaughter would be very receptive to that¡­ No, Ma¡¯am¡­¡± I extend my staff past the boy to poke the surly girl in the ribs, managing to take her by surprise, and observe ¡°You could do a lot worse than a leader of hundreds at your age, girl!¡­ You aren¡¯t getting any younger and I want great-grandbabies before I¡¯m flown to the Forest of Plenty(!)¡± earning myself a scowl from her. I take a moment to enjoy the red ochre flush I can see in her face. Then I turn back to look up at the looming man to repeat ¡°So¡­ what are you here for then?¡± ¡°I¡¯m here to be named, Shamaness¡­ I have killed the cavebear that took two of Bison this Summer past. I ask to be made a Bane and have you endorse my honorary membership of the six clans¡­ Raala of Bison is my witness and carries my blood flask, Wuurlo of Bison hunts for my feast.¡± says the man, seriously. Stunned, I spend a few moments scrutinising him¡­ trying to work out if this might be a tasteless joke¡­ Finally, I turn to my granddaughter and ask ¡°Is this true, girl? This man killed the bear that took your brother and intended from us?¡± The outlander¡¯s reaction informs me he did not previously know the identities of those whom he avenged. ¡°It¡¯s true, grandmother.¡± she scowls, ungratefully. ¡°HOW!?¡± I cry, incredulously ¡°Don¡¯t take this the wrong way, boy, but¡­ the one thing the rumours didn¡¯t exaggerate is your apparent frailty! How did you slay a beast so mighty?!¡± ¡°He did it with this, grandmother¡­¡± explains my granddaughter, extending her right hand to tap the strange, curved stick the outlander holds in his left ¡°¡­it¡¯s a powerful outland weapon that let him kill the bear at fifty paces!¡± ¡°That¡­ that beggars belief!¡± I frown, bewildered. ¡°Shall I demonstrate?¡± the man asks, sincerely. I hesitate¡­ then ¡°Please!¡± He looks around before pointing to the North, out of the hearthstead. ¡°You see that treestump out there?¡± he asks. ¡°No¡­ not from this distance¡­ My remaining eye isn¡¯t that good at my age¡­ but I know the one you¡¯re talking about¡­ The old hornbeam.¡± I respond. ¡°Well, that¡¯s what I¡¯m aiming for.¡± he states, taking a wide stance and reaching over his shoulder with his right hand to pull out a long rod, tipped with a miniscule stone blade on one end and a rosette of feathers on the other. He brings the feathered end to the cord, hooks his light brown fingers around it to the top and bottom, raises the whole thing over his head and stretches his arms apart (with what¡¯s clearly a heaving effort) as he brings it back down while tilting it upwards. *Fwoom* cries the weapon as the miniature feathered spear disappears from it. Half a breath later, a woody *thock* echoes back. ¡°Wulra: Give Korbu to Raala, pace out the distance, confirm the weapon struck the stump and retrieve it for our guest.¡± I instruct. My assistant hands over her baby to my granddaughter who gives the infant a rare smile. She paces away, counting. I see her blurry shape as it stops over (presumably) where the hornbeam stump is. She spends about 20 breaths there, doing¡­ something? Something my eye can¡¯t discern at this distance. Finally, she returns and, addressing the tall man, apologises ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Sir, I was able to confirm the hit and I counted 159 steps there and 157 steps back¡­ but I couldn¡¯t get it out of the stump¡­ It was wedged too deeply and I didn¡¯t wish to risk breaking it.¡± The suddenly terrifying man smiles ¡°Oh, no problem! I¡¯ll get it.¡± before jogging away in a strange, rolling gait. ¡°By the Maw!!!¡­ 160 steps!?¡± I whisper as soon as I judge him to be out of earshot. ¡°Eeeeeeeyep!¡± replies my granddaughter, flippantly, bouncing the baby she holds and not taking her eyes off him to meet mine. I watch the lanky outlander¡¯s blurred shape as it stops for the briefest moment where Wulra was before returning. As his face unblurs with the proximity, he starts ¡°So-?¡± ¡°With this demonstration and Raala¡¯s testimony, there can be no doubt.¡± I preempt ¡°You have my deepest gratitude and I will immediately have preparations made for a naming ceremony at dusk¡­ Raala, you may leave his blood flask at the fireside to thaw.¡± ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- Drums boom as three pairs of thick fingered hands impact them. The haunting tune of a wind instrument made from a thick leg bone keens out over the dusky scene. The caribou Wuurlo killed for me has been butchered and roasts over an absolutely roaring fire in the hearth at the middle of the village¡­ The shamaness stands between me and the flame, staff in her right hand, flask in her left. I¡¯m supposed to be naked for this ceremony but, once I explained my situation (that the sight of my manhood was meant only for the woman who would be mine), the shamaness relented and allowed me to wear a loincloth. I slowly walk toward the fire, the ground and air both getting less and less intolerably frigid with each step. I loom over the absolutely tiny old woman for a moment before dropping to my knees and holding my arms out to the sides. I¡¯m still slightly taller than her! She thumps the base of her staff on the hard stone ground and the music ceases. Her eyes, one the same vivid green as her granddaughter¡¯s the other blind, milky and cataracted, peer out from beneath her headdress of bone and feathers. The old woman extends the staff to give it to her assistant (the future shamaness, I believe) and, that hand now free, unstops the flask. ¡°Ksem of the 144 Channels! You and none other slew the beast that had slain two! This is true?¡± she intones, surprising power to her aged voice. ¡°It is true, Shamaness.¡± I answer, careful not to shout. ¡°This flask contains the blood of that beast, bled from it by your hand! This is true?¡± ¡°It is true, Shamaness.¡± ¡°You wish to be named for your deed! You wish to take that which you have earned! This is true?¡± ¡°It is true, Shamaness.¡± ¡°Do any here call this man a LIAR?¡± she challenges, casting around. No answer comes. After several agonising heartbeats, she continues ¡°Then, as the shamaness of the six clans of the Eastern Plateau, in the name of Mother Mammoth and all her children, I anoint you!¡± I close my eyes as she brings the flask to my forehead. I feel the viscous blood run down my face and onto my chest, the salty, gamey smell filling my nostrils. Her right hand comes to my chest, spreading it to every patch of skin. The flask emptied, she hands it off, using both hands now to apply the thick, strong smelling fluid. I open my eyes and see that the week old blood has turned nearly black, despite being frozen for most of that time. Satisfied with the coverage of my body, the old woman takes back her staff and flask (somehow only having blood on her palms) and names me! ¡°ARISE, KSEM ¡®BEAR BANE¡¯!¡± Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Fourteen ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- ¡°Aaaaand where are you going?¡± I hear the shamaness ask someone through the walls of the hut, waking me up. ¡°I¡¯m waking him up!¡­ We need to leave later and, if he sleeps to nearly noon (like his people apparently have no problem with) we might not-¡± ¡°Absolutely not!¡± the old woman interrupts. ¡°But grandmother¡­!¡± Raala objects. ¡°No ¡®buts¡¯! It¡¯s bad luck and bad manners to pull a man out of bed the morning after a celebration in his honour! I won¡¯t allow it in this hearthstead!¡± There is a silence for a few moments as I imagine the strong, young woman and the aged, venerable one staring eachother down on the other side of the door curtain. ¡°¡­FINE!¡± Raala finally relents ¡°Don¡¯t blame me if his laziness makes us miss the light and we have to stay here another night for it, though!¡± Relieved that I¡¯m not about to be hauled from my bed and thrown into the snow again, I snuggle down beneath my cloak. I don¡¯t drift back off¡­ I just enjoy the cosiness for another 1,728 heartbeats or so. Eventually, I decide I simply need to bite the sling stone and get up. I rise from my slumber, groaning as I stretch up my arms and flex my back¡­ then stop¡­ and sniff¡­ ¡°*Pugh*!¡± I grimace as I catch a whiff of myself. Though it wasn¡¯t on me for long, the stink of the blood that spread over nearly my entire body last night still clings to me, mixing with the sweat from the dancing and feasting to create a none too pleasant stench! I rise to my feet, step to the door and emerge from the empty sleeping hut. The only one I see is the brunette assistant to the shamaness, sat beside the ashy hearth watching as her baby raises himself to a supported standing position on one of the (to him) chest height ringstones. She jumps to her feet as she sees me and (clearly intimidated) asks ¡°Bear Bane¡­! Sir¡­! Is there¡­? Can I¡­ help you with¡­ anything?¡± I smile down at her and say ¡°Actually, Wulra¡­ would you be able to direct me to-Ah-ah!¡± breaking off at the sight of the boy scooping up a handful of ash and trying to bring it to his mouth. The mother startles but manages to swiftly intercept the offending arm before the inedible powder can reach her son¡¯s lips. ¡°Korbuuuuuuuu!¡± she chides, wrestling his fingers open to brush the ash out of his palm. Scooping him up while keeping his ashy hand detained in hers, she returns her attention to me, looking very embarrassed. ¡°Deepest apologies, Sir. You were saying?¡± ¡°No problem at all!¡­ I was just wondering if I could trouble you for some warm water and a private place to wash myself?¡± I ask, realising as I do that there¡¯s no fire lit currently. Frowning regretfully, she gestures the pit to her left and apologises ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Sir¡­ I¡¯ve yet to clean out last night¡¯s fire¡­ Until I have, we can¡¯t light another¡­ buuuuut¡­¡± ¡°But?¡± I smile. ¡°Well¡­ if you don¡¯t mind a bit of an uphill walk, Sir, I know a place where you¡¯ll have both warm water and privacy?¡± ---later--- I¡¯ve died¡­ I¡¯ve died and, despite apparently having practiced the wrong religion, been rewarded with a paradise regardless(!) I lie back against the bank of this mountainside hot pool, staring up at the ceiling of overhanging rock. ¡®Privacy¡¯ is a slightly relative term, given that, looking North, I can see all the way to where Wulra told me Golden Eagle¡¯s territory gives way to Elk¡¯s, but there¡¯s certainly no one close enough that I need to be concerned. The water does have the slightest whiff of rotten egg to my nose but, she assured me, it is clean and doesn¡¯t smell that way to anyone who¡¯s regularly used a hotspring enough in their life. The full body relaxation of this warmth, unlike anything I¡¯ve experienced since arriving in these lands, is more than worth the slightly peculiar smell! I really never want to leave this pool! But¡­ of course¡­ I can already see Raala¡¯s fury if I waste the whole morning and keep us stranded at her grandmother¡¯s until tomorrow(!) I sigh and, gritting my teeth, rise from the water. The utter bliss still being experienced by my feet and calves is replaced by torture in the rest of my body as the wind immediately rips away all the warmth the pool gave me! I¡¯m instantly shivering and hurriedly reach for the buckskin towel I brought. Stepping out of the pool and rushing to the side, out of the wind, I dry off every last fingerwidth of my wet skin. I take particular care to ring out my dreads as, I know if I don¡¯t, the trapped water will make them mildewy¡­ and no one wants that! Once I¡¯m as dry as I think I¡¯m going to get, I grab my clothes and quickly get myself redressed. I breathe a sigh of relief that, even though my clothes are cold from not being worn for the last 1,152 heartbeats, my skin is at least a bit shielded from the chill wind that blows up here above the treeline¡­ I sling my quiver over my cloak, onto my back, and pick up my bow. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it I look down the snowblanketed mountainside to the forest where I know Golden Eagle Hearthstead is. ¡°Well¡­ time to head back¡­¡± I announce to myself before stepping out from the shelter of the overhang. I haven¡¯t made it more than 12 paces, however, when my attention is captured by something I didn¡¯t notice before¡­ A little more than an arrow shot away, I see a stone¡­ painted in six colours. Curious, I start towards it up the slope. As I approach, I¡¯m able to make out the shapes that have been painted there. They¡¯re footprints. I recognise the charcoal black of Bison, the chalk white of Wolf, the orange ochre of Golden Eagle and the malachite green of Moufflon. The umber brown and the haematite red footprints must be for Boar and Elk¡­ though I couldn¡¯t guess which was which. What on earth is this doing here? I¡¯ve never seen six different footprints all lined up and pointing the same way before! The most I¡¯ve seen in one place was three, down South. It marked the tripoint of the territories of three clans, each footprint pointing down the path to that clan¡¯s hearthstead. All six stacked up and pointed in the same direction like this suggests, whatever this place is, it isn¡¯t just common land¡­ it¡¯s a jointly owned condominium of all the clans of the Plateau? I consider just asking about it when I get back to Golden Eagle¡­ then decide that¡­ well, since I¡¯m already heeeeere¡­ I might as well have a look at least¡­? As of yesterday, I¡¯m an honorary Plateauman¡­ meaning this place is as much for my eyes as anyone¡¯s, right? No harm in looking, so long as I don¡¯t touch or take anything¡­ and when am I going to be here again!? ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- ¡°Outlander!¡± I shout angrily from down the path, below the lip of the steaming hot pool ¡°It¡¯s time to GO! Get out, dry off, get dressed and let¡¯s get moving!¡± No answer comes, save the whistling of the wind. ¡°Have you fallen asleep in the water?! You¡¯ll get HEATSTROKE like that, idiot!!!¡± Still no answer. ¡°I¡¯m coming up!¡­ If I see your dick in the course of saving your life, it WON¡¯T make me your woman, alright(!?)¡± Honestly! Wulra should¡¯ve just told him to deal with being a bit smelly! Telling him about this place halfway to the Cave of Bones, when she knew we had a deadline, is thoughtless at best and sabotage at worst(!) My head rises above the steaming water. I frown slightly as I realise there¡¯s no break in the surface. There¡¯s no flat, brown skinned face and ropey black hair visible. OK, maybe he¡¯s just holding his breath? I get right up to the edge of the water and, from this angle, am able to see that this pool is completely absent its outlander! I feel the briefest wash of disappointment, followed immediately by alarm at that last feeling, followed by me reassuring myself that the disappointment is just for the extra time it¡¯s going to take to find him now¡­ Definitely didn¡¯t have anything to do with losing the opportunity to see him naked! A thought so ludicrous, I immediately throw it away and resolve never to think it again! Anyway, where¡¯s that idiot lanklet? Did he get lost on his way here? I look around and quickly spot a very distinctive, long, slim, crescent shaped wet footprint on a rock¡­ disconfirming the idea that he never made it here. My people touch our whole foot to the ground with each step, you¡¯d need a foot that looked like the inside half of the sole had been carved off to leave a print that shape¡­ and he¡¯s the only person I know within a week¡¯s travel to have soles like that! Where is he then? If he was done here, he should¡¯ve come back and I would¡¯ve run into him on the path! Narrowing my eyes, I walk left, around the water, and come under the overhang where the wind dies. Then, I spot it. A shoed footprint, broken through the virgin snow¡­ not pointed to Golden Eagle¡­ pointed the other way¡­ up the mountain¡­ to¡­ ¡°Oh nooooooo!¡± I groan, breaking into a run to follow the nosey cretin! ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- OK, so¡­ I took a torch¡­ but that was clearly what they were in that box for! They¡¯re obviously for lighting the way in this cave! I¡¯ll be in and out in a few hundred heartbeats, I¡¯ll extinguish it in the snow and no one will know the difference! I can¡¯t not see what¡¯s in this cave at this point! I step forward. The flame flickers as I pass inside. Soon, the light begins illuminating symbols painted all over the walls. I recognise the meaning of a few of these ideographs but the rest are ones Old Red either didn¡¯t know himself or just never taught me. Some of them are so high up the walls that even I wouldn¡¯t be able to reach that far! Those must have been made with some kind of ladder or scaffold, I suppose? Some look like they¡¯ve been painted (or at least touched up) in the last few years¡­ some look much older! I find myself wondering, as I often did with Old Red, whether these symbols could one day be expanded to allow a person to paint any message onto a surface that they could say with their mouths¡­ and quickly dismiss the idea with a chuckle, remembering his answer to that ¡®Who would ever have time to learn that many symbols!? Even shamanesses only have one lifetime! Even if someone did, it would be no good at all if it was just one person who knew them, would it! You¡¯d need many to all have learned the same symbols and then be able to keep those straight with themselves and eachother!¡­ I don¡¯t think a system like that would ever work! Life¡¯s just too short for it!¡¯ I look to my left where a tunnel heads off what I think is East? It¡¯s marked as a path, so I guess it must lead somewhere? I hear a faint rumbling echoing from it¡­ Hmmm¡­ Maybe let¡¯s not go that way(?) I turn back to the Southward corridor. Another few steps bring an absolutely foul stink to my nostrils. ¡°*Ugh*!¡± I gag loudly on the stench of death as my suspicion about what might be causing it is confirmed by seeing a symbol I recognise. A handprint would normally signify ¡®I was here¡¯¡­ but not this one¡­ Rather than pigmenting their palm, pressing it to the wall and withdrawing it cleanly, the artist slid it to their right, smudging out the pigment until there was none left¡­ I remember Old Red teaching me this symbol, the day after my mother¡¯s funeral¡­ dipping his hand in the Great River and sliding it across a dry stone. ¡®I was here¡­ and am no longer¡­¡¯ I¡¯ve stumbled on the six clans¡¯ mortuary cave. Shame wells up in my stomach as I realise just what a trespass I¡¯ve committed. What exactly was I even hoping to find?! An entrance to their Forest of Plenty(!?) Cycle damn my curiosity! OK, I just need to leave, put back the torch, head back to the hearthstead and not tell anyone I came h- ¡°OOOOUTLANDEEEEEEEER!¡± a fearsome voice echoes through the cave, briefly terrifying me into thinking I might be about to be smote by a powerful local god, proving their existence to me, a moment before ending my life and sending my essence to be chewed on for all time for my intrusion on this sacred place(!) Echoing footsteps quickly reassure me that my pursuer is at least mortal¡­ a relief that lasts until the exact moment I see her face! Raala is charging towards me in the pitch black cave, her torch illuminating her expression. Her features immediately make me flash back to that cedar forest where I was nearly gutted. Her eyes are full of that same mix of fear, fury and hatred as that man¡¯s were¡­ and she has her spear in her hand. My mind is not involved in the decision. I¡¯m sprinting away down the rumbling passageway before I know what¡¯s happening. ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- ¡°NOT THAT WAY! IDIOT! COME BACK!!!¡± I shout at the moron who (after he was done freezing like a startled deer(!)) sprinted for the worst direction he possibly could have! He doesn¡¯t answer. He either didn¡¯t hear me over his own panic or did but decided he can¡¯t spare the breath. I¡¯m gaining on him, just a few more moments and¡­ *Boom* the stone above us shifts in a way stone should not shift! The idiot once again does exactly the worst thing he could do! He skids to a halt! He wheels in place but, understanding that neither of us have any chance of making it back the way we came, I aim my shoulder for his midriff. With no time to dodge around me, his feet are lifted off the ground with the force of the impact. Still charging forward, I scream, desperately trying to put as much distance behind me as possible before I trip or overbalance. Then my toes strike a rock. I come down on top of him as the entire mountain collapses around us! Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Fifteen ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- I¡¯ve never experienced darkness blacker than that that surrounds me right now¡­ I can see absolutely nothing! Besides the lingering pain of being tackled to the ground, I can feel just three things; the hard stone floor beneath me, the pressing weight of the woman on top of me and her panted breaths hitting my face. Well¡­ we¡¯re both alive at least¡­ and it seems she isn¡¯t immediately trying to murder me? I feel her weight shift as she pushes herself upwards. ¡°Raala? Are you alri-¡± *CRACK* ¡°OW!¡± I object to the full force, open handed smack I just took to the right side of my face. The only answer is another glancing blow to the top left side of my head, then a deluge of variously effective slaps to every part of my upper body, accompanied by noises somewhere between growls and screams! I raise my arms to shield myself, begging ¡°Raala!... Ow!... Raala!¡­ Ow!... RAALA STOOOOOP!!!... OW!!!¡± A powerful hand grabs me by the lapels and lifts my back a few fingerwidths off the floor before slamming me back down. Close enough that I can feel the warmth of her breath on my nose, she screams into my face ¡°Do you have ANY idea. WHAT. YOU. JUST. DID!?¡± ¡°Yes, Raala! We almost died and I¡¯m incredibly sorry! I absolutely shouldn¡¯t have snooped around up here¡­ and I shouldn¡¯t have run from you when you came after me! Those are both entirely my fault¡­¡± I state sincerely to the madwoman pinning me to the ground ¡°¡­but it¡¯s alright now, right? We¡¯re both alive¡­ I¡¯m fairly uninjured and you¡¯re at least well enough to scream and pummel me¡­ We can just go back to the hearthstead and chalk this up as a learning experience, can''t we?¡± Her body shakes with joyless, hysterical laughter as she accuses ¡°You don¡¯t get it at ALL!!! WHERE exactly do you think this passage goes!?¡± ¡°Oh¡­ well¡­ I know it goes somewhere¡­ I saw the blaze symbol so I know we aren¡¯t trapped down here¡­ Right?¡­ Somewhere a bit of a longer walk back? Somewhere I¡¯m guessing might mean we end up needing to spend tonight at your grandmother¡¯s and set off tomorrow?¡± ¡°NO, shit-for-brains!!! NOT ¡®a bit of a longer walk¡¯!!! YOU¡¯VE only gone and trapped us OUTSIDE. the. FUCKING¡­ BAAAAASIIIIIN!!!!!!!¡± My stomach drops at that revelation! I want to tell her ¡®that¡¯s not funny¡¯¡­ but everything about this situation informs me she¡¯s not joking! ¡°OH! And it¡¯s the Winter Solstice in less than a Moon! ALL the routes through the Ice Wall on this side of the Basin are gonna be completely impassable until the Spring thaw**! Four Moons at LEAST**!¡± I lie beneath the apoplectic woman, utterly dumbstruck by what she¡¯s revealed. Eventually, I manage to answer ¡°¡­Well¡­ maybe the way behind us isn¡¯t completely blocked?¡­ If you let me up, I¡¯ll relight a torch and we can see if there¡¯s a gap we could squeeze through.¡± my voice subdued. There¡¯s about a six heartbeat pause before she growls and I feel her weight removed from atop me. Now able to get up, I feel around on my right for where I dropped the torch. ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- *Klih* I flinch at the flash of light that illuminates the man for the briefest moment as he strikes his flint against his magic sparking stone. *Klih**klih**klih**klih* click the eery rocks, throwing the man¡¯s shadow through the dusty air to loom on the wall and ceiling behind him¡­ making him look every bit the cursed ghoul I now know him to be! Finally, the tiny sustained light of an ember appears and rises into the air. He blows, causing the spark to bathe his unnatural face and the palms of his spindly hands in orange light, the only things visible in the darkness. The flame catches and I hear the scrape of wood against stone before the head of a torch appears. It quickly takes the flame and the dust choked cavern comes once again into view. I turn my attention back the way we came and immediately see there¡¯s absolutely no getting through that! ¡°Uhhhm¡­ maybe if we dig at these piles of rocks we could-?¡± ¡°No¡­¡± I scowl, bitterly ¡°We need to get moving now or we¡¯ll run out of torch light before we reach the other side. The torches would burn out long before we dug through that and, when we discover there isn¡¯t a way through, it¡¯d mean we¡¯d be stuck on this side of the blockage in the dark!¡± ¡°Oh¡­¡± says the man with infuriating disappointment in his voice, as if this isn¡¯t all his fault! Sneering, I look around for my spear¡­ I gasp as I see its bottom half, the top crushed beneath a stone at least 20 times my weight. Wrath boils inside me as I see that his bow made it out of the collapse just fine! Impulsively, I lunge to snatch it up from the ground but (the outlander clearly having gathered my intention from my face) a long fingered hand whisks it away a fraction of a breath before mine grasps it. Rage in my face and in my voice, I snarl ¡°Give it to me, outlander!¡± pointing down at the shaft of my ruined spear ¡°You broke my weapon, I break yours!!!¡± Holding his bow far above his head (well out of reach for me) and holding the lit torch between himself and me to ward me back, he seriously and calmly states ¡°Raala, I understand you¡¯re upset, about your spear, about everything, but just think for a moment!¡­ Whether or not you breaking my bow is what either of us deserve, it will mean that once we get out of this cave, neither of us will have a weapon to hunt or defend ourselves with¡­ right? Is that what you want?¡± This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. That stops me dead from trying to fight my way to him around the fire. Damn it! He¡¯s right! ¡°*GrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrRR*! Fine! But you owe me a spear as good or better than that one!¡± ¡°Agreed¡­ and, when we¡¯re both back with our respective peoples, if you still feel it necessary, you can break my bow then, alright?¡± ¡°Mmmh!¡± I grunt, having every intention of making him make good on that promise! ¡°We should probably get moving, shouldn¡¯t we?¡± he asks, bending to pick up the other torch and touching it to the one he already relit. I snatch it from his hand and wave it rapidly through the air to snuff out the fire before it catches. I round on him ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing!? We need both torches to make it! If they¡¯re both lit at the same time, they¡¯ll both burn out halfway through, won¡¯t they!¡± Realisation hits his face as he sheepishly admits ¡°¡­Ah¡­ Right you are¡­¡± Sneering, I snatch the lit torch out of his right hand and press the one I just extinguished back in his direction. ¡°Take this! I¡¯m leading the way! I¡¯m not stopping for you so don¡¯t fall behind!¡± ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- Falling behind hasn¡¯t been a problem. She began limping as soon as her blood had cooled down after the fight. I want to suggest she rests¡­ but, if what she says about the torches is true, it sounds like we wouldn¡¯t have the time¡­ even if she were willing to take any suggestion from me(!) We¡¯ve been walking now for (my guess) around a third of the sunlight. It will probably be around sunset by the time we get to the exit. This cave is truly incredible !¡­ I just wish I were traversing it under better circumstances. Some places, Raala has needed to squash her deep torso through with the stone walls pressing her from both the front and back (less of a problem for me, obviously(!)) but other points have been so cavernous that the torchlight didn¡¯t touch the ceiling or any of the walls, giving the unearthly impression of walking outside on a still night with the Moon and all the stars stolen from the sky! The echoing drip of water has been a near constant companion as we¡¯ve travelled. The torch I originally brought starts to sputter and dim¡­ hopefully, we¡¯re at or past the halfway mark by now! Wordlessly, Raala holds her right hand out behind her without looking at me. I place the spare torch into it and, without a ¡®thank you¡¯, she brings it in front of her to touch to the dying light of the one she snatched from me earlier. The flame takes and the handle of the now expired torch is dropped to the ground. I wordlessly bend to pick it up. It¡¯s no good to light our way anymore but could still serve as good firewood on the other side. We continue walking for a bit, the echoing drips of distant water drops and the flicker and crackle of the freshly relit torch the only sounds. Then, the hobbling woman turns her face to me and sneers ¡°You gagged¡­ didn¡¯t you!¡± addressing me for the first time since our cave journey began. Confused, I ask ¡°Gagged? Gagged at what?¡± ¡°On the smell!¡­ Obviously! You got to where the smell of the Bone Chamber reached you and you reacted to it with audible disgust!¡± Thinking back, I realise ¡°¡­Oh¡­ well¡­ I guess I did¡­ Why do you ask?¡± bemused. Too exhausted to fill her growl with the rage I think she really wants to, she answers ¡°*Rrrrrrrr*!¡­ Because you got yourself cursed by offending the dead, idiot!¡­ And, because curses never stop at just their intended victim, you got me cursed too!¡± ¡°Wait, hang on¡­!¡± I stop her, confused ¡°¡­the dead cursed me? How does that work? Aren¡¯t the dead all either busy enjoying the Forest of Plenty or being chewed on by the Maw of the Wolf? Why and how would they have any care about indirect insults to the corpses they don¡¯t inhabit anymore?¡± ¡°Oh! So you¡¯d be fine if I held up your dad¡¯s skull and spat on it then(?)¡± she spits ¡°Afterall(!) He doesn¡¯t ¡®inhabit¡¯ it anymore(!) He¡¯s ¡®gone back through the Cycle¡¯(!) I cock an eyebrow and answer ¡°Well, no¡­ If you somehow produced my father¡¯s skull from somewhere and spat on it, I would find that extremely upsetting as an insult to both me and to his memory¡­ but I don¡¯t think he would care!¡­ Even if he somehow knew you¡¯d done that to his old bones, I certainly don¡¯t think he¡¯d care enough to expend the metaphysical effort to lay a potentially deadly curse on you! You¡¯ve also not answered that ¡®how¡¯¡­ They¡¯re surely not here to be offended, right?¡± ¡°Their spirits are gone¡­ I hope all to the Forest¡­ but their shades are still here! Listening, watching¡­ Shades don¡¯t like to be disturbed¡­ and you disturbed them with your careless bad manners! You got yourself cursed to exile and you kidnapped me along with you by your carelessness!¡± I frown ¡°Surely, Raala¡­ that smell was coming primarily from your brother and lover at this point, right? Would the fact that I¡¯m the one who avenged their deaths not carry any weight to them?¡± Disgustedly, she shoots back ¡°They don¡¯t know you¡¯re their avenger! Obviously! They were here, not in Bison, when you magicked that bear dead!¡­ And Morlu wasn¡¯t my lover! Not that that¡¯s any of your fucking business!¡± Here, we reach a fork in the cave. Raala angles her torch down for the briefest moment, inspecting the stone slabs that have been propped up at the mouths of the paths. Two have footprints with the toes pointed downward and pebbles scattered loosely around them. The last has the footprint pointed facing up. She continues down the odd path out, having barely broken stride. I follow. ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- The torch flickers, sputters¡­ and dies¡­ Well¡­ I think we at least made it past all the forks in the paths that we could¡¯ve got lost down. I turn and see something spine chilling but, in spite of that, reassuring¡­ A pair of eyes hangs in the air, about two heads above mine. Just the whites are very dimly visible but that¡¯s a good sign. If I can see the monster¡¯s eyes, it means we¡¯re close enough to the exit for some light to be flowing here from there. I turn my body sideways, pressing my left hand to the left wall, and walk by sliding my uninjured foot across the ground in front of my left, keeping my right hand directly in front of my face, so it doesn¡¯t bump into any rocks that hang down from the ceiling. Suppressing my fear of the darkness and the man looming through it behind me, a make my way along the passage like this for a few hundred breaths. It steadily gets brighter and colder until. I catch the briefest glimpse of a sliver of sky. My excitement makes me careless. I suck in a mouthful of air through my teeth as I step on a loose rock with my left toes. Quickly controlling myself, I continue. The entrance appears properly now, a dusky sky visible through it. We¡¯ve been missing since before noon¡­ I wonder if they¡¯ve worked out what happened to us yet? ¡°Alright.¡± comes the deep voice from behind and above me, making me jump out of my skin ¡°Get your shoe off and lets take a look at that injury before we lose the light.¡± I turn around to my now fully visible kidnapper and snarl ¡°What makes you think there¡¯s anything wrong with my foot and what makes you think I¡¯d let you anywhere near it if there were!?¡± ¡°The evidence of my eyes and ears to the first¡­ To the second, now we don¡¯t have to keep going to make it through the cave, you need medical attention and I¡¯m the only other person here who can give it to you, so sit down and take off your shoe!¡± he insists. Scowling, I stare back up at him, expecting him to break. When he doesn¡¯t, I sigh. Looking around, I find a flat, knee high rock. I reach down and begin pulling my shoe over my foot. I grimace as the action causes new pain to shoot out from the toes. As soon as it¡¯s off, I see that the second toe is crooked, bruised and there¡¯s inflamed swelling that¡¯s spread to the entire end of the foot. The outlander calmly states ¡°Alright, Raala¡­ That¡¯s not supposed to look like that. Well done for making it through the cave on a broken toe but we¡¯re camping here until you can walk properly again.¡± ¡°What makes you think-!?¡± ¡°I¡¯m the only one of us who¡¯s able bodied right now, Raala¡­ That¡¯s what ¡®makes me think¡¯!¡± he asserts ¡°Until you¡¯re back to fighting fitness, I¡¯m making the decisions and I¡¯ve decided we¡¯re staying here and you¡¯re resting up until such time as you can go anywhere¡­ We can use the time your toe is taking to knit itself back together to talk about what comes next¡­ Now, I¡¯m going out¡­ You¡¯re resting!¡­ I¡¯ll bring you some compacted snowballs to help to bring the swelling down for now¡­ then I¡¯m going to find us some food and some firewood? Do you have any requests? Anything for your foot?¡± I glare at the suddenly assertive man for a breath and a half before spitting ¡°Willow bark, sphagnum and garlic!¡± He screws up his eyes in thought before saying ¡°Alright¡­ I know garlic¡­ I know willow is a tree and sphagnum is a moss?¡­ Could you describe them in enough detail to let me make a more confident identification?¡± Scoffing at the uselessness of him needing help with two of the three things I asked for, I snarl ¡°Willow¡¯s the swishy tree that looks like it¡¯s crying! Sphagnum¡¯s the bushy moss that grows everywhere! Why even offer to get me things if you don¡¯t know any of the things I might ask for!?¡± Not engaging with my antagonism, he turns and, walking out of the cave, holds up his right hand, his thumb pressed against the middle joint of his sidefinger, and starts ¡°Got it! Food¡­¡± moving his thumb to the next joint up ¡°¡­firewood¡­¡± then to the bottom of his little finger, counting upwards along the joints ¡°¡­garlic, swishy tree bark and bushy moss¡­ Oh, and snowballs for right now.¡± He steps from the cave and I hear him immediately turn to dig his hands into the snow. Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Sixteen ---Ksem¡¯s perspective---
The ibex is perched on the side of a sheer cliff face above me, in this snow covered mountain landscape overlooking the treeline. It¡¯s obviously seen me but, with the people of this land not using bows, it¡¯s na?ve to the fact that the sixty vertical paces between itself and me are no protection. The ibex back in my homeland knew better! I stop, turned enough away from it that I can keep an eye on it in my periphery without spooking it, withdraw an arrow and nock it to my bow. Licking a finger and holding it to the wind for a moment, I turn, draw, aim and loose. My arrow strikes the animal in the bottom of the skull and its entire body goes stiff. There¡¯s a stomach churning moment where I worry it¡¯ll die in place, making it completely irretrievable! That would be such a waste! Then it topples over the side. It spends a few heartbeats accelerating to the ground before¡­ *Thud**crack* If it wasn¡¯t killed the moment my arrow struck it, the fall will certainly have done the job! Didn¡¯t like that wooden snapping sound though! I draw close and sigh, seeing that, indeed, my arrow shaft was broken in the fall. Well, I¡¯m down an arrow but I¡¯m at least up a kill! The head and feathers look like they can be recycled just as soon as I source a new shaft¡­ Not the end of the world(!) ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- I look up from the future spear I¡¯m stripping the bark from to see my cursed abductor sauntering back into the cave where he¡¯s kept me trapped for days now! I keep insisting that I¡¯m fine but he keeps answering ¡®If you¡¯re fine, get up and walk normally without grimacing.¡¯ Every single time so far, I¡¯ve either failed at walking without a limp or failed at keeping the pain out of my face. He carries a medium sized ibex over his shoulder. The fact that he can carry it like that means it can¡¯t be more than half my weight¡­ Once dressed, that¡¯ll drop to a quarter¡­ I could eat maybe a little more than a hundredth of my weight per day but he also needs to eat, even if he needs less¡­ As I reach the solution, I state ¡°That¡¯ll last us about three eights of a Moon if we cache it in the snow and smoke what we¡¯re taking with us.¡± Wryly, he dumps the animal off his shoulders and responds ¡°Oh, you¡¯re quite welcome(!)¡± Furiously, I snap back ¡°Yes I am ¡®quite welcome¡¯, outlander!!!¡­ You bring your horde to my people¡¯s lands without so much as a ¡®headsup¡¯, you let your chief hunter kill a herd of mammoths and almost rape a girl, you almost crush me with a bear, you break my foot, you kidnap me here with your curse, you destroy my spear and you won¡¯t let me leave until my stupid toe is healed! As far as I¡¯m concerned, I¡¯m entitled to all of that kill and many more besides before we can even begin considering what you owe me repaid! The only reason I¡¯m going to let you have any at all is because you need your strength to keep going out!¡± He rolls his eyes and sighs in the same way you might to a stroppy child¡­ only making me even more furious! He takes a bound bundle of fallen branches off his back, bends down and unties it. Some of the branches I recognise as willow, though far more than I need for the bark¡­! He must be planning to weave something with them? Separating the willow from the firewood he adds the latter to the heaving pile he¡¯s already spent days collecting. I return my attention to my spearshaft and continue my debarking, remarking ¡°You¡¯re wasting effort collecting that much firewood¡­ we¡¯re never going to get through that much before my toe heals.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ I know¡­ It¡¯s not for here.¡± ¡°You¡¯re planning to take all that with us when we leave, are you(?)¡± I mock. ¡°Yes.¡± he answers simply, no joke in his voice. ¡°Don¡¯t be stupid!¡± I spit, my eyes fixed on a particularly stubborn knot in the shaft ¡°I don¡¯t even know if I could lift that much at once but I know you can¡¯t! You¡¯ll never be able to carry it down the mountain!¡± You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°Not as it is, I won¡¯t. You¡¯re right.¡± ¡°*Khhh*! You got some outlander magic that¡¯s going to shrink the wood(!?)¡± ¡°No¡­ It¡¯s not magic¡­ You¡¯ll fully understand once you see it.¡± he answers, nonchalantly. I huff ¡°Whatever, outlander!¡­ Keep your secrets then!¡± Once finished with his wood stacking, he turns and offers ¡°I found you something else¡­¡± ¡°Oh yeah?¡± I ask, neutrally. ¡°Yes¡­¡± he fishes in his coat and produces something, reaching out to place it at my shin ¡°¡­here.¡± I halt from my task, pick up the smooth, black rock and frown, wondering whether he can really be this stupid? I look at him, holding it up, and incredulously ask ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± ¡°It¡¯s obsidian?¡± he answers, face falling. ¡°Yes! I can see it¡¯s obsidian! What I¡¯m asking is why have you brought me obsidian!?¡± Unsurely, he points to the spear shaft I¡¯m working on and says ¡°For¡­ your¡­ spear?¡± ¡°I said ¡®flint¡¯! Why would you bring me this when I specifically asked you for flint!?¡± ¡°Oh¡­ well, isn¡¯t obsidian better than flint? I thought you¡¯d prefer it?¡± ¡°Obsidian isn¡¯t ¡®better¡¯ than flint! It chips sharper but that¡¯s because it¡¯s brittler!¡­ ¡®Brittle¡¯ isn¡¯t what I need right now! Wherever we go once we¡¯ve left here, knappable rock is going to be difficult to get a hold of so what I need is ¡®reliable¡¯! No good if my spearhead breaks the first time I kill anything with it, is it!?¡± ¡°Oh, I see¡­ Well, I¡¯ll do my best to find you some flint when I go out tomorrow.¡± he says, eyes to the ground. ¡°You do that¡­¡± I sneer, returning my attention to the shaft. There¡¯s a moment of silence before ¡°Sooo¡­ where are we going once we leave here? Because I¡¯ve been doing some thinking¡­¡± ¡°That must be a first(!)¡± Ignoring the jab, he picks up a chunk of chalk that¡¯s left over from my making the ¡®turn back¡¯ footprint sign, warning any who come here after us that this cave isn¡¯t passable any more. Pulling a flat piece of rock towards himself, he scrawls out the shape of the Basin and all the coasts the scale allows. He then muddies the tip of his finger to trace out the path of the Great River (mine, not his). Then he turns the tablet to me and gestures to the Southeastern corner of his representation of the Basin. ¡°So¡­ we¡¯re here, right?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°And both of us need to get back here¡­¡± he uses his finger to roughly indicate the Southwestern end of the Eastern Plateau ¡°¡­or my people might think you¡¯ve murdered me and yours might think I¡¯ve murdered or kidnapped you!¡± ¡°You have kidnapped me!¡± I point out. Ignoring me, he continues ¡°The problem is that aaaaaaall this¡­¡± he indicates the mountains that hem in the entire Eastern side of the Basin ¡°¡­is impassable until Spring at the earliest. You say we¡¯ll definitely die if we try to cross these mountains in Winter?¡± ¡°That is an accurate summary of the predicament you¡¯ve placed us in, yes!¡± I state, humourlessly. ¡°Your dad¡¯s told you there are clans of your people living¡­ here¡­¡± he draws a line due West of where we are with his finger to point at the mouth of the Great River ¡°¡­and they might be willing to take us in buuuut... he said that it took him three quarters of a Moon to get from here to there, right? And that was in Summer, so it¡¯d probably be an entire Moon for us to get there in Winter, if not more! So, that means we¡¯d either lose a full Moon going to Winter with them or need to set back off a Moon before these passes open up, meaning two Moons of dangerous, Winter travel and leading to us both being missing more than four Moons in total!¡­ Same as if we just stayed here for all that time!¡­ Are we agreed that that¡¯s not ideal?¡± ¡°Nothing about any of this is ¡®ideal¡¯, outlander!¡± I snap. ¡°Granted¡­¡± he casually admits ¡°¡­So, the next option is to travel North then West, around the outside of the Ice Wall to the Northern Gap¡­¡± tracing the route ¡°¡­enter the Plateau from the Northwest then cross the entire plain to get to where my people were camped. Which you think would take¡­?¡± I scowl ¡°Two and a half Moons in late Spring to late Autumn¡­ More than three in Winter¡­ Assuming I don¡¯t split a fingernail or something, causing you to hold me prisoner until it heals(!)¡± ¡°Right, on the plus side, we¡¯d be back a Moon earlier¡­ Not so good is the fact that we¡¯d be travelling the whole time.¡± he observes, stupidly, before continuing ¡°¡­So, the final option, as I see it, is to go¡­¡± he draws a line East-Southeast ¡°¡­here!¡­ To the Thundering Rift, North from there, East across the Western Mountains (which should still be just about passable even in Winter, you think?) and that will dump us out straight into the Southwestern Plateau¡­ and, accounting for everything, I think that¡¯ll take us about¡­ two Moons! However, if I might suggest a slight but very worthwhile detour, if we head due South first, I believe we¡¯ll come to Speartooth Hearthstead. They¡¯re friends of mine and one of them guided my people from there to the Rift the first time! I think, if we can convince him to come with us again this time, it¡¯ll probably make the rest of our trip a lot safer at the cost of maybe lengthening it by ten days.¡± My face twisting, I growl ¡°I wish I could just travel on my own without your people bashing my brains out because they think I murdered you!¡± ¡°I know¡­¡± he smiles, holding up a palm with the tip of his thumb resting on the middle joint of his middle finger ¡°¡­you¡¯ve said so eight times now(!)¡­ Am I safe to assume we¡¯re taking the Thundering Rift Route? It is, afterall, the one with the shortest return time and joint shortest amount of Winter travel, save for staying here¡­¡± I scrutinise him, silently. Eventually, I spit ¡°Fine!¡± ¡°Excellent!¡± he beams, clapping his hands together in that insufferably cheery way that¡¯s exactly what makes me never want to give him the satisfaction ¡°And, the detour to Speartooth?¡± I narrow my eyes. ¡°Ten day¡¯s delay could mean the difference between your people deciding mine have murdered you and all need to be murdered over it and not, outlander.¡± I observe. He bobs his head and concedes ¡°True, we do need to make it back quickly but¡­ well, we also need to balance making it back quickly with making it back at all! If we both die trying to make it back then, likely, no one will ever know what happened to us. If one of us makes it back and one doesn¡¯t, the survivor will be followed by a pall of suspicion regarding the fate of the other for the rest of their lives! I think the days we¡¯ll lose will be more than worth it when considering how much a guide and supplies will improve our chances of making it at all!¡± I think about it and (not for lack of trying) am not able to fault his reasoning. ¡°Fine¡­ We¡¯ll go see these friends of yours first!¡± Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Seventeen ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- ¡°Don¡¯t look!¡± threatens the woman behind me. ¡°I¡¯m not and I won¡¯t¡­ Though¡­ I¡¯m not sure why you suddenly care so much? I¡¯ve seen you naked before and you treated me like an idiot for getting embarrassed about it then!¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ but that was before I knew you outlanders were all weird, repressed perverts! For all I know, seeing me naked when you¡¯re so nudity starved will drive you mad with lust!¡± she speculates. ¡°Was I driven mad with lust last time?¡± I ask, calmly. She doesn¡¯t answer for a moment before pivoting ¡°You¡¯re only meant to see your woman naked! I don¡¯t want you suddenly deciding that seeing me naked makes me yours!¡± ¡°Did I decide you¡¯d become my woman¡­ last time(?!)¡± I chuckle. ¡°Shut up and don¡¯t look!!!¡± ¡°I¡¯m still not looking, Raala!¡± I repeat. My imagination is running a little wild with what I know is behind me but my eyes face steadfastly forward to the cave wall, illuminated by the light from the entrance. The rustling finally finishes and a stack of clothes is thrust into the spot on my left. ¡°Hurry! When they¡¯re done, come back to the entrance, shout, put them down and go away until I tell you I¡¯m dressed again¡­ Don¡¯t come in while I¡¯m washing!¡± ¡°Alright¡­ and how will I know when they¡¯re done?¡± I ask, picking them and the long firewood stave up and getting to my feet. ¡°Just give them a sniff and, if they still smell, do them longer!¡± she scoffs. ¡°You want me to¡­ sniff your clothes?¡± I answer, cocking my eyebrow at the wall. Silence. Then ¡°Well now I don¡¯t!!! *Uuuugh*! Just¡­ just do it like I told you and bring them back! I¡¯ll let you know if you¡¯ve somehow fucked up this incredibly simple task!¡± she spits, bitterly. ¡°Alright¡­ I¡¯ll do my best!¡± ¡°And you¡¯ll come back expecting me to worship you for it, I¡¯m sure!¡± I sigh, resigned to never again getting a simple ¡®thank you¡¯ out of this truculent woman, and walk forward. I emerge from the cavemouth to the bright sunshine, bathing the side of a snowy mountain in a brilliant glow. There¡¯s a spectacular view of the forested hills, down below the treeline, and the vast steppe that stretches South beyond them. I don¡¯t need to go quite that far right now, though! I¡¯ve got a belly full of ibex meat and roasted hazelnuts, a full stack of (mostly) dry wood and I¡¯m surrounded by the resource I apparently need to clean my surly companion¡¯s clothes! I dump the pile onto the ground and begin laying them out flat. That done, I dig up several handfuls of snow to scatter out onto each one. Now comes the fun part! I pick the stave back up and raise it high over my head before swinging it down to whack Raala¡¯s cloak into the snow! Lightly enough that I don¡¯t risk destroying any of her garments or breaking my laundry stick, I beat down every part of each one with it. Supposedly, ¡®snow washing¡¯ clothes is the most effective way to clean them¡­ though I must confess myself a little sceptical! Surely solid water can¡¯t work better than liquid water to clean, right? And, if it somehow becomes liquid as part of this process, surely that will cause all the same problems that washing fur and leather in water always causes! Give me a good dust bath any day of the Moon(!) Actually, is that what I¡¯m doing? Is this just a dust bath with the sand dust replaced with snow dust? Well, whatever! She asked (hear ¡®told¡¯) me to clean her clothes like this so she only has herself to blame if it ruins them... Though it will still be my responsibility to go an source replacement furs and leathers for her so, perhaps, let¡¯s not actually wish for that(!) The clothes now fully beaten, I stand back up to admire my handywork. Then my heart sinks as I realise something¡­ I¡¯m going to be stuck out here while her clothes cool and then aerate for the next sixth of the sunlight¡­ I meant to bring something to allow me to prepare to process all that wood but¡­ I completely forgot! I didn¡¯t just forget to bring it¡­ I forgot to even make it! I grimace and spend a brief moment assessing whether I could just use the laundry stave that¡¯s already in my hand but¡­ No! It¡¯s not just a nonoptimal tool for the job! I¡¯ve got to beat the clothes again and turn them over in a bit and they¡¯d unavoidably get filthy if I used this! I turn to look back at the mouth of the cave. Nothing for it! I sigh and trudge back. Leaning around the entrance and looking straight forward at the wall, knowing full well my voice will echo down the left and right turns to where Raala is, I call ¡°Raala?¡± ¡°My clothes are NOT done, outlander!¡± she answers immediately. ¡°No they¡¯re not. I was just wondering if you could do me a favour?¡± Silence¡­ then ¡°What do you want?¡± ¡°Well¡­ I need to dig a hole¡­ Could you please whittle a point onto one of the firewood staves and fireharden it into a digging stick?¡± She seems to consider that for a moment before asking ¡°What do you need a hole for?¡± ¡°For the firewood¡­¡± ¡°To do what with the firewood? Bury it(?!)¡± she says, baffled. ¡°No¡­ To make it portable!¡± ¡°How is a hole going to make all that wood portable, outlander!?¡± ¡°Still a surprise, Raala!¡± I smirk. ¡°And what if I said I¡¯m not going to make you a digging stick unless you tell me?¡± My mouth twists but I manage to keep my voice neutral as I answer ¡°I¡¯d say that¡¯s fine! It¡¯s completely up to you!¡­ Juuust means I won¡¯t be able to get started on the hole until after your clothes are done¡­ which means, unless I want to work in the dark (which I don¡¯t) it won¡¯t get finished until tomorrow morning¡­ whiiiiiich, with the amount of time the portablification process takes, means that the stuff I was planning to do tomorrow gets bumped to the day after tomorrow¡­ meaning we won¡¯t be able to leave until the day after that¡­ but we can leave a day later, riiiiight(?)¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. I turn my left ear to the tunnel. The silence lasts just long enough that I frown and take a breath to call out to her but, at that moment, I hear her frustratedly growl ¡°*Rrrrrrrrrrr*¡­ Fine! I¡¯ll make you your Mammothdamned digging stick! We can just add it to your ever growing list of favours owed! You can come and get it in two or three hundred breaths!¡­ I¡¯ll leave it at the mouth of the cave, same place I want you to leave my clothes¡­ Just shout before you poke your head round, alright? I might be coming out there with it at the time!¡± ¡°Thaaank you, Raaaaaaalaaa!¡± I singsong. ¡°Yeah whatever!¡± I turn around and, after a quick bit of conversion maths to conclude that ¡®200-300 breaths¡¯ is about the same as 1,152-1,728 heartbeats (making for a nice alignment with the time it will take to clear the snow and the time I need to flip her clothes) I walk off to begin the first of those chores. ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- My toe twinges more than I¡¯m letting on to my kidnapper as I walk out of the cave, a stack of firewood in my arms, my shoed feet crunching through the snow in the dusky twilight and my clothes smelling wonderfully fresh. I¡¯m desperately curious to see how he¡¯s going to turn more than my weight¡¯s worth of wood into an amount that he can carry on his own! I mean¡­ whatever it is, it sounds super useful for crossing areas where firewood might be difficult to get a hold of but¡­ well¡­ that¡¯s only if it actually works! I¡¯m imagining him dumping all this wood into this hole, waving his arms over it while reciting outland spells and it shrinking to a size he can fit in a satchel, growing back to normal when he takes it out, but¡­ much more likely, I think, is that nothing happens and we end up having to leave most of it behind us as a gift/apology to the next group of unlucky souls who find themselves camped in this cave! At least I¡¯ll get to rub all his wasted time and effort in his face! All those opportunities to annoy me that he missed because he just had to be out gathering this ridiculous stack of wood! This much would genuinely see a full hearthstead through a week of Winter! I approach the snowless patch of raised ground with a shallow, bowl shaped hole (about as wide as I am tall and as deep as my knees) dug into it. The pile of ash swept off to one side clued me in to the fact that the whole had already had a moderate fire lit inside it (¡®to thaw and dry it out¡¯ my captor says). He¡¯s now built a second one in it that he¡¯s yet to light. On the same side of the hole as the ash is the mound of snow he made when clearing the ground. The soil from the hole, he compacted around the edges to raise its lip. On the far side from the ash are the digging stick I made him, a large, conical willow basket, coming up to his midriff (my chin) when stood vertical, the waterskin he made from the hide of that ibex he killed (currently fat with liquid cave water) and the enormous pile of wood he¡¯s been collecting for as long as he¡¯s been here. ¡°So¡­¡± I say, dropping the last armful to clatter onto the top of the stack ¡°¡­now what? You light the fire and your Cycle appears to shrink the wood for us(?)¡± A maniacal twinkle in his eyes, the man answers ¡°Well¡­ you¡¯re right that the first step is to light the fire¡­ Unfortunately, the Cycle personifying itself to watch in any way that you or I could perceive would be a first(!)¡± I sigh ¡°Alright then¡­ Just get on with it!¡± He bobs his head and kneels down to pull out his tinder and his fire conjuring stone. In a matter of a breath or two, he has a flame. He touches the tinder to a piece of kindling before extinguishing and putting away the former. Holding up the flaming piece of dry wood, he spends a moment admiring the light, casting his rich brown eyes to look more like the glowing orange of embers. An¡­ unnerving grin breaks onto his face as his tongue sticks between his teeth¡­ He takes a step forward to place the kindling into the small stack of wood, down in the wide, shallow hole, before stepping back out to watch as the flames spread. Uneasily, I watch the man as he watches the fire, a previously hidden pyromania now on full display! Once the flames have engulfed every piece of wood, he bends down to collect an armful of staves from the pile, walks into the pit and drops them onto the fire. ¡°What are you doing!?!?!?¡± I shriek, aghast at the waste ¡°If you don¡¯t want this wood anymore, we should leave it in the cave for the next lot to come here!!!¡± Turning around to show me his ghoulish smile, his back framed by the light of the flames, he answers ¡°Oh¡­ but I assure you, Raala¡­ I do want the wood! I just want it light enough to carry!¡± ¡°It¡¯s no good to us as ash!!!¡± I point out, dismayed. ¡°And I¡¯m not going to let it become ash¡­ Please, Raala¡­ just trust the process¡­¡± he says in a way that makes me concerned he might¡¯ve been possessed by some kind of fire spirit! ¡°I¡¯d ¡®trust the process¡¯ a lot more if you¡¯d told me what ¡®the process¡¯ actually was!¡­ You said ¡®portablification¡¯! That made me think that this was going to be something that let you carry this wood with us when we head South!¡­ This looks more like a sacrifice! Like you think wasting this wood here will make us more likely to find fuel while we travel!¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a sacrifice¡­ Well¡­ it is in a way, I suppose?¡­ It is this wood which I¡¯ll carry with us when we go¡­ just, not as it is! There is no superstition here.¡± Still unconvinced, I nonetheless choose not to get between this pyromaniac and his ¡®process¡¯, just in case he decides I¡¯m the next thing that needs to go on the fire(!) A few tens of breaths pass and, right as the flames engulf every part of the wood he last dumped, he takes another armful off the stack and drops it on. This time, however, one armful wasn¡¯t quite enough to cover the prior lot and he needs to take another few pieces to place into those spots that are still exposed. Twilight gives way to night as the stack he spent so long collecting is consumed in the space of just a thousand breaths! After the second layer, the flames were too fierce to allow him to approach and he had to resort to creating all the subsequent ones by throwing pieces in, individually, until they¡¯d covered the flames. There comes a point where the proportion of his stack currently in the hole equals the size of a celebration fire, like the one that was lit for his naming ceremony a third of a Moon ago, then surpasses it, becoming the most wood I¡¯ve ever seen burned at once! It¡¯s very surreal to see such an enormous conflagration but being one of only two who¡¯re here to witness it! I genuinely wonder if the light it¡¯s giving off might be visible across the Ice Wall in Golden Eagle, lighting up the clouds for them! Towards the end of the stack, he decides that the pit needs to be stirred and begins covering each partially consumed top layer under the glowing embers from beneath it before adding the next. An arbitrary seeming amount of time after the gleeful pyromaniac adds and buries the final pieces, he picks up the waterskin. Untying the mouth, he turns it upside down to pour out onto the pit of coals. There is a violent *hiss* as the heat causes the water to instantly boil, creating a billowing cloud of steam! The fire is mostly extinguished but, apparently, that¡¯s not good enough. He runs to the snow pile and scoops up handfuls, pressing them onto any patch where the embers are still glowing. Once that¡¯s all done, I turn to him and bitterly observe ¡°Congratulations(!) You and I just became the owners of the world¡¯s largest pile of charcoal(!)¡± He smirks back ¡°Yes, Raala¡­ We did! And, other than as a pigment, water filter and a poison remedy, what¡¯s the only thing charcoal is good for?¡± ¡°¡­Err¡­ Nothing¡­? If you have enough charcoal for everything else, any more just needs to be thrown back¡­ on¡­ the¡­¡± I trail off as realisation dawns. ¡°Back on the fire, right?!¡± he gleefully patronises ¡°Meaning that it burns!¡± I point out ¡°Yeah¡­ but it¡¯s not going to burn as much as unburnt wood will!¡± He enthusiastically nods his head and says ¡°Of course you¡¯re right!¡± gesturing to the still steaming pit of coals ¡°All the heat we just had, that¡¯s heat we won¡¯t be able to enjoy on our travels¡­ That¡¯s why I hesitated a little over whether it was a ¡®sacrifice¡¯ or not. We probably just used about half the flame in all the wood I gathered. That¡¯s why I collected so much! But, crucially, we drove off about four fifths of the weight!¡± ¡°So¡­ it¡¯s¡­?¡± ¡°Light enough to carry but still energetic enough to be our main fuel source for the half Moon journey to Speartooth, yes!¡± he says, happily. Desperately trying to find any fault with his reasoning and drawing a blank, I stay silent for a moment. Then ¡°Hey¡­ how do you know this Speartooth is half a Moon away, outlander?¡± I ask, suspiciously ¡°You came by the Thundering Rift, right? You¡¯ve never made this journey before!¡± Without looking, he points his hand behind him, angled almost perfectly halfway between straight up and level with his shoulder, and says ¡°Polaris.¡± I turn to look at the star and ask ¡°What about it?¡± ¡°It was lower there¡­ It¡¯s higher here¡­ the amount tells me it¡¯s around a third of a Moon to walk. Factoring in Winter and your lack of stamina, that takes it to half a Moon.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous!¡± I scoff ¡°Polaris doesn¡¯t move! That¡¯s the only notable thing about it! It¡¯s always in the same spot!¡± He turns to look at me, an insufferable smirk on his face and explains ¡°Polaris doesn¡¯t move¡­ You¡¯re right! But the more you move North or South, the more your perspective on how high it is in the sky changes. In Speartooth, it was about an arm¡¯s-length-fingerwidth lower, in my homeland it was only about two thirds as high in the sky as it is here. I even heard tell of lands so far South that you can¡¯t see it at all! It falls below the North horizon!¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± I start, wanting to call him a liar but recognising the pattern of, every time I do that, him finding a way to embarrass me by proving himself truthful! ¡°It¡¯s something you understand when you do a lot of travelling.¡± he states, gesturing the pit of charcoal ¡°Like this!¡­ You understood that charcoal could be burned but the thought of manufacturing it specifically to take to places without wood didn¡¯t occur to you, did it? You¡¯ve not done that much travel in your life and what you have done has always been near trees, right?¡­ Not so for my people! We needed to figure this out!¡± ¡°Yes(!) Please, go on about how much better your people are than mine(!)¡± I scowl. He turns to me and waggles his face, smiling ¡°Not ¡®better¡¯, Raala¡­ Just different¡­¡± I meet his eyes for a moment before uncomfortably clearing my throat, looking to the pit and asking ¡°Sooo¡­ what happens now?¡± ¡°Oh¡­ well, it has to cool down overnight¡­ In the morning, I¡¯ll check it¡¯s all glossy and breaks easily between my fingers and, if it is and does, it all goes in the basket and we carry it with us the day after¡­ I¡¯m thinking I carry the charcoal, you carry the food and we take turns with the water?¡± I assess the pile. ¡°That¡¯s going to be heavier than the food¡­ and you¡¯ve already done a lot of work to make sure we have it¡­ I¡¯ll carry the food and the water, you just carry the charcoal.¡± In my periphery, I see him smile ¡°Alright, Raala¡­ Deal!¡± Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Eighteen ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- As I wind the thread around the salvaged arrowhead, lashing it to its new shaft, across the cave from me a pair of green eyes scrutinise a stone. Its every crevice and nodule falls beneath her gaze as she visualises what she is about to craft. I slot the finished arrow into my quiver, bringing it back up to a nice, round dozen and turn all my attention to my companion. She brings the flint down to her lap in her right hand, raises the hammerstone in her left and¡­ surprises me by striking in a completely different place than I expected! I watch as, over the course of seven or eight strikes, she clears a long platform on that side of the flint. She then turns the stone slightly and excavates a second platform at a slight angle to the first, the two meeting at a ridge that runs the length of the stone. That done, she once again assesses it before aiming one final strike at the ridge. A thin flake pops off, sharp edges running its length and meeting at a point. Satisfied, she puts the stone down and holds up her triangular handiwork to admire. Baffled, I can¡¯t help myself but to ask ¡°That¡¯s it?!¡± ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- I turn my eyes from the flawless spearhead I just produced to scowl at my captor. ¡°What¡¯s ¡®it¡¯, outlander?¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­ sorry! I just¡­ I thought you said you wanted reliability! Isn¡¯t that why you rejected the obsidian I brought you?¡± Not having any clue what he¡¯s talking about, I hold up my craft to say ¡°Yeah?¡­ This is reliable!¡± He frustratingly waggles his face from side to side in his people¡¯s ¡®no¡¯ and contradicts ¡°No¡­ Sunbeam¡­ It¡¯s not!¡± Rolling my eyes exasperatedly, I sneer ¡°How so!?¡± ¡°Well¡­ it¡¯s thin, it¡¯s unifacial and it¡¯s only got a single edge on both sides¡­ It¡¯ll be brittle the same way obsidian apparently is!¡± ¡°This is better than obsidian and, so long as I keep the core¡­¡± I hold up the stone I just separated the spearhead from ¡°¡­I can just move down the ridge and pop off another one when this one breaks!¡± ¡°Yes¡­ only if you survive though¡­ and continuously breaking and replacing your spearhead seems like a bit of a waste of effort and material to me!¡± he shrugs, smugly ¡°Oh! And I suppose you can make a spearhead that won¡¯t break then!?¡± I challenge. ¡°Yes¡­ Certainly one that will last longer than that¡­ and it will do a better job of killing prey too!¡± ¡°Talk is easy, outlander! Show me a better one if you can!¡± I snarl, gesturing to the unselected flints he brought me. Nonchalantly, he bends to hover his hand over them, hesitating slightly on the selection. He eventually chooses one and holds it up to his eyes, assessing. Placing it down, he walks to where the ibex bones are and picks up a femur and a horn. Returning to where he left the flint, he sets down the bones and pulls out a series of round rocks, various sizes, various colours, various textures, which he lines up on the platform next to him. Holding the flint in his left hand and resting it on his left thigh, he picks up the femur and strikes at the edge. Baffled, I watch as he opens his fingers and allows a cascade of clinking flakes to fall away from the stone to the ground. His strike count quickly surpasses mine without him having touched any of his stones or the ibex horn or produced anything that looks remotely like a spearhead! Sort of looks like he¡¯s just slowly smashing the flint to pieces to me! Hundreds of breaths pass as the rock is thinned down and shaped. After the femur, he progresses haphazardly through the line of rocks, sometimes chipping, sometimes abrading, putting them down to pick up ones he¡¯s already used, always turning, pausing, raising and scrutinising the flint. I get the idea at some point that, instead of preparing a core to flake off spearheads from, he¡¯s shaping the entire stone down into one gigantic, teardrop-shaped spearhead! The fire crackles between us, a blizzard howls outside and all the while he just chips, scratches and, eventually, pressure flakes with the tip of the ibex horn. Finally, he holds up his finished piece and, after one more moment of assessment, puts down the horn, stands, dusts off the flint residue from his lap and hands it to me. ¡°Here¡­ A spearhead better than the one you just made or the one that got crushed in the cave in.¡± he smiles. I take it and narrow my eyes at it. It¡¯s large, sturdy and symmetrical but ¡°It¡¯s a bit messy with all those thousands of strikes all over it, outlander!¡± I say, holding up my smaller, cleaner and much lower effort spearhead to compare ¡°Mine¡¯s clean and sharp! Yours has all this texture on its faces and its edge is all jagged!¡± ¡°That¡¯s by design, Sunbeam!¡± he smiles ¡°All that texture? That reinforces it, makes it stronger than it would be with smooth, flat surfaces¡­ The jagged edge? Well, that causes more trauma and more bleeding when it strikes! A single edge slices, a thousand edges in a line like that, they tear!¡­ Would you rather be sliced or torn?¡± Scowling at my fault finding¡¯s failure, I switch tack ¡°Took you a lot longer than mine took! Bit of a waste of time!¡± ¡°Effort I was happy to spend for you! Time spent on quality isn¡¯t wasted!¡± he simpers in answer. ¡°It¡¯s too thick to fit the notch I¡¯ve carved!¡± I state, holding up the finished spearshaft and demonstrating how it doesn¡¯t fit. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°You could widen it a little?¡± he suggests with a cock of his head. ¡°But then it will be too wide for mine when yours breaks!¡± I point out. ¡°If that happens (which I don¡¯t think it will, certainly not in the next two Moons so long as you¡¯re not trying to break it), you can just shorten it a bit and carve a new notch, right?¡± I grimace, realising I¡¯ve run out of faults to find. He shrugs and turns away, walking to his cloak, lying down on top of it and closing his eyes. ¡°Of course, Sunbeam, it¡¯s completely up to you¡­ You could just leave it here or keep it as a backup if it really doesn¡¯t meet your standards¡­¡± I scowl from the man to his annoyingly gorgeous spearhead. My lips twist but, regardless, I bring its edge to the notch and begin widening it with a sawing motion. Eyes still closed, he smirks. ---Bwey¡¯s perspective--- ¡°Ah! Zgrizeh! Come in, sit down!¡± I state, gesturing the space just to the left of Kseley. The middle aged woman comes in and respectfully takes the indicated spot next to the elderly one. Once she¡¯s seated, I gesture across the fire to the anxious looking, one handed, older redhead with the thick beard and shaven chin. ¡°I asked you here to translate, Zgrizeh¡­ Would you mind asking Kroln here to repeat himself? It sounded like he was saying my brother is¡­ lost¡­?¡± ¡°Of course, wardeness¡­¡± she states with a single nod before turning to the man and asking ¡°¡­Kor danal tro klodtra na shapto, Pontu?¡± with far more confidence than I have in their language. In a deep, resonant, nervous voice he answers ¡°Mortun! Intorgla Wuurlo nurgod mogiat jaan. Rabtiu waln ensordak¡­¡± speaking at some length with me only catching about every second word. Zgrizeh listens, paying close attention until he stops talking, then turns to me, her expression grim ¡°Your brother and this man¡¯s daughter are missing, wardeness. The morning after his naming ceremony, both vanished from Golden Eagle and could not be located for several days before word was finally dispatched back.¡± I grimace for a moment before asking her ¡°Is there¡­ any possibility that Raala just¡­ found my brother¡¯s Banehood so attractive that they eloped and are currently spending their honeymoon out in the wilderness together?¡± She relays my question and then the man¡¯s answer ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem so¡­ He says it would be very out of character of his daughter to run off without telling anyone where she was going, whatever the circumstances. They left their Bison chaperone behind in Golden Eagle without a word of warning. While no one¡¯s sure if they¡¯re alive, they do have some idea of where they might have gone.¡± ¡°Where?¡± I ask, immediately. ¡°Well, it seems that they were both last seen heading up a mountain on which the clans¡¯¡­ erm¡­¡± she turns to the man to clarify ¡°¡­Salukt natu?¡­¡± ¡°Mmm!¡± he grunts ¡°Saluktor natu tom teratka.¡± Turning back to me with greater confidence, she continues ¡°¡­their mortuary cave is¡­ This cave was also a transit route out of the Basin.¡± ¡°¡®Was¡¯?¡± ¡°Well, in the course of searching for the missing pair, it was discovered that that passage had suffered a collapse¡­ A count of the torches from the repository at the entrance revealed two missing. The working theory is that our leader went to investigate this cave, this man¡¯s daughter followed him in and they were both either¡­ killed in the collapse or left on the wrong side of it¡­ trapped outside the Basin.¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± I growl. Either Ksem and this girl are trapped outside the Basin alone together in Winter, were killed in the collapse¡­ or these people murdered him, hid his body where we¡¯d never find it and are now playing dumb? I need to hope with all my heart for the first of those because that¡¯s the only one that has any chance of me seeing him again! Ksem! You promised to be careful, idiot! I reach a decision. ¡°Zgrizeh¡­ tell this man that you and I¡¯ll be coming to Golden Eagle with forty eight hunters to investigate this matter ourselves.¡± I state, stonily. ¡°Err¡­ Wardeness? That¡¯s more than four times the allowable party size before it becomes a trespass?¡± she points out. ¡°I¡¯m well aware, Zgrizeh! If he raises that objection, point out that it isn¡¯t a trespass if we have received permission¡­ and that we assume none of Bison, Wolf or Golden Eagle would deny permission to the sister of a missing brother just coming to see the situation on the ground, would they? We¡¯ll bring the majority of the supplies we need from here so there should be minimal impact on their lands¡¯ stocks.¡± I say, my voice stoney and my eyes fixed on the one handed man. Concerned, she turns to him and takes a breath, hesitates, then turns back and says ¡°He¡¯ll want to know why it needs to be so many¡­ What should I tell him?¡± ¡°Please tell him that greater numbers will simply help us conduct our investigations more expediently and will allow for¡­ safer travels¡­ what with these treacherous, Winter conditions, of course!¡± ¡°¡­Yes, wardeness.¡± she says, unhappily, turning to the man to explain. I watch his reaction, not listening to my fellow Deltawoman speak, just looking at the old man¡¯s face. His back stiffens, his eyes widen, his stump arm twitches and his mouth parts when (I assume) he hears the number I will be bringing and turns to me with a dismayed, reproachful look. He¡¯s either the world¡¯s best actor¡­ or he isn¡¯t in on any plot to disappear my brother that might exist. After a long pause, he answers. ¡°He says: Bison at least will not oppose your passage. When should he expect you?¡± translates Zgrizeh. ¡°Tell him we will leave the day after tomorrow. Ask if he wouldn¡¯t too terribly mind using the interim to send word ahead to Wolf and request word be sent from there to Golden Eagle. That will hopefully minimise the amount of time we need to spend waiting on borders for permission to proceed to come back.¡± She translates. The man stands and replies. ¡°He says: If it is so soon, he will need to head back now to prepare the messenger. He asks your permission to leave.¡± ¡°Tell him he has my permission.¡± I say, my eyes fixed on him. ¡°Baru terat, Pontu.¡± she translates (a touch less adversarially than I stated it but I don¡¯t correct her). As soon as the man is out of the tent, I turn to Ezwer. ¡°Ezwer, I need you to line up forty one volunteers to make this expedition with me, Zgrizeh and my huntresses. I need you to organise them in preparing rations for the trip. I need you to increase the nightguard by half and put a night and day escort on Eshker while we¡¯re gone. You will be acting as warden until either Ksem or I get back but I want you to defer to Kseley¡¯s experience wherever possible. Can you do all that?¡± I bark. Taken aback (clearly not yet having gained the cocksure selfconfidence that Qrez seemed to have been born with) he hesitates ¡°Erm¡­ shouldn¡¯t be a problem, Ma¡¯am? Why an escort on Eshker though?¡± ¡°Because without me, Ksem or Zgrizeh, he¡¯s the only one who can translate anything for you with any degree of competency! Anything happens to him, you guys become deaf and mute to the locals! So¡­ nothing happens to him! Got it!?¡± I explain. ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am!¡± he answers before, uncertainly, adding ¡°Should¡­ should I maybe organise earthworks and stakewalls to ring the camp?¡± ¡°No.¡± I answer, immediately and decisively ¡°Adding fortifications like that at this point will be taken as a provocation¡­ Right now, we need to play this diplomatically. If it looks like we¡¯re preparing for a fight, a fight becomes more likely regardless of if their story about my brother getting himself trapped outside the Basin is genuine or not! Continue the trade, continue treating the locals that come here as friends, just stay vigilant for surprise attacks. Understood?¡± ¡°Understood, Ma¡¯am. May I leave to organise those expeditionaries?¡± In answer, I flick my hand to the door. He stands and walks towards it. Before he¡¯s gone, I turn to the old medicine woman ¡°Kseley, I¡¯m trusting you to make up Ezwer¡¯s experience shortfall! Keep him looking competent enough that the whole place doesn¡¯t fall apart in mass panic! We clear?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been advising your family since before you were born, girl. You can leave things to me.¡± she states, confidently. ¡°Good¡­¡± I say before a thought occurs to me ¡°¡­Oh, and¡­ I¡¯m also going to need you to run your nose and eyes over my huntresses and any female volunteers to check for pregnancy, Kseley¡­ Going to be a hard trip in Winter and we can¡¯t have any weak sinew in our rope!¡± ¡°Of course, girl.¡± she answers. ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- Carrying the combined total of our food and water on my back and holding my new spear in my hand, I step out of the cave into the chilly morning air. The glorious dawn light of the Sun shining over the East horizon plays off the rippled surface of the unfamiliar piece hafted to my weapon, making it look even more irritatingly beautiful than it did last night. Beside me steps a tall man, bleary eyes squinting against the Sun, every step making tens of thousands of pieces of charcoal jingle against eachother in the basket on his back. I exhale deeply, filling the air with my foggy breath, inhale a noseful of the crisp mountain air, turn to my kidnapper and (almost smiling) ask ¡°Ready?¡± ¡°Mmmm¡­¡± he grumbles, not yet fully awake. I lift a foot and, with the slightest tremble, take the first step of our journey. Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Nineteen ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- Kenophobia¡­ I realise now that I definitely have it! I always thought that my dad¡¯s description of the utterly nauseating anxiety he felt travelling in the lands East of the Basin was something I didn¡¯t share. Afterall, I knew what plains looked like! We lived less than half a day¡¯s travel from plains and those ones didn¡¯t make me uncomfortable! At least, not in any more than the abstract way of ¡®that¡¯s land I can¡¯t hunt on¡¯! But there¡¯s a difference: Those plains had topography! They had rolling hills and mountains visible to the West and South! They had patches of trees dotted about them! Where I am now is¡­ sickeningly flat! I''ve not seen so much as a bump on the horizon in any direction for two and a half days! No where to hide. Nothing to obscure us. Nothing to even let us know we¡¯re moving at all¡­ except the trail of footprints left in the snow behind us as we walk. We followed a river as we came down the mountains but, when we came out onto this steppe on the second day, it veered East and we needed to go South. It might not have been so bad if we could¡¯ve kept following it. I¡¯d have something to look other than overcast skies and endless flat, snowy land at least! Shelter¡¯s been an exhausting nightmare since we left the mountains too! No wood to build with. No caves or rock crevices. Nothing to make our shelters with but snow. Snow is a better insulator than you¡¯d think but, for best effect, you need to build quite¡­ intimately¡­ It¡¯s difficult to sleep with my kidnapper less than an arm¡¯s length away from me! I am at least grateful for the charcoal he brought. We¡¯d likely already have reached the limit of the amount of wood we could carry and we¡¯d have nothing else to burn! Replenishing the water without a stream to break the ice on is a bit more tedious¡­ It means stuffing snow into the skin and leaving it by the fire, then sleeping with it between us so it doesn¡¯t refreeze. It¡¯s- ¡°Hey! I think I see something!¡± announces the much taller man, bringing his hand to his flat brow to look over the horizon. ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- As we walk through the forest, a lake emerges. Frozen over of course but still a welcome sight¡­ even if it is in our way! We stop on the bank and Raala digs a pomegranate sized rock out of the frozen soil. I watch as she hurls it up and out onto the ice. The ice chirps like a bird each time the heavy rock bounces on its surface. The first bounce caused her to wordlessly step forward, apparently satisfied that the ice will support our weight. I¡¯m¡­ less at ease! Even having heard Old Red¡¯s stories about it, even with Raala¡¯s rock throwing test, even with Raala going first¡­ I can¡¯t so easily get over my discomfort. Knowing that, beneath the ice, most of the lake is still liquid, knowing that, if misjudged, I will go through it and (best case) be freezing cold and soaking wet and (worst case) get trapped down there and drown¡­ well, it certainly has my heart going! I finally take a cautious step out onto the surface. I reassure myself at first by looking down, looking at the stony lakebed just a shinlength beneath my feet¡­ I quickly stop when the bottom gets far enough down to be partially lost in the murk. My mind tortures me by showing me implausibly large river monsters swimming below my feet. Alright, I just need to walk straight and I¡¯ll be across in a few hundred heartbeats! Raala¡¯s already nearly halfway over! Don¡¯t think about it! It¡¯s just slippery ground! It¡¯s just- *skrrrp* My heart stops as my foot loses traction and I almost fall over! I know it withstood a rock falling on it but¡­ I weigh a lot more than a rock! I don¡¯t want to test if falling over on the ice causes me to crash straight through it! Maybe lets think about it a little! Let¡¯s think about it just enough not to fall over! Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Raala¡¯s already made it over and turns back to shout insults at me for my slow speed. I ignore her and just focus on walking as fast as I can without losing my footing. After what feels like an eternity of crossing, I see the lakebed shallowing below me again and breathe a sigh of relief. I¡¯m not fully comfortable though until my feet are once again on solid ground! My body relaxes and I breathe deeply with the release of the fear. Unimpressed, my companion mocks ¡°You crossed that like a toddler! Like that was your first time!¡± ¡°It was my first time!¡± I pant in answer. She¡¯s momentarily shocked before saying ¡°Oh¡­ Yeah¡­ No snow or ice in the South¡­ I keep forgetting!¡± she looks up at the sky and then around through the forest before saying ¡°We should probably get started on the shelter for tonight. It¡¯ll be good to actually have some branches to lay our cloaks on instead of just putting them directly on the compacted snow.¡± Mostly having caught my breath, I take the charcoal basket off my back and open it¡¯s top to withdraw the digging stick. Handing it in her direction, I ask ¡°Do you want to get started on that while I have a look around to see if I can find anything edible to top up our supplies?¡± She rolls her eyes ¡°Yeah, yeah¡­ leave me with the hard work!¡± I smirk ¡°We could always swap? You could look for food and I could lay out the foundation of a nice and cosy compacted snow shelter for us?¡± Scowling at me, she reaches out and snatches the digging stick. I start walking away before turning around, remembering ¡°Oh! You need this, don¡¯t you! Almost forgot!¡± reaching for the buckskin towel that¡¯s been serving as our shelter¡¯s roof for the past three nights. ¡°No, keep it¡­¡± she stops me, gesturing around ¡°¡­We¡¯ve got trees now. I¡¯ll make the roof with branches. They¡¯ll support snow on top and it¡¯ll be a lot warmer than just buckskin.¡± ¡°Oh¡­ alright then.¡± I say, tucking the folded towel back into my belt and walking away. ---Lorgul¡¯s perspective--- We approach from down wind, able to hear and smell without being heard or smelled. I squeeze my club¡¯s handle and look to my cousins. I give the signal and we quietly break from cover, continuing to creep towards the trespasser setting up camp on our lakeshore. ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- I¡¯ve just finished clearing the ground for the firepit, compacting the snow for us to sleep on, building the three walls to break the wind and am about to start gathering branches when I feel a prickle on the back of my neck. I whip around to see three men who¡¯ve somehow managed to sneak up on me without the sound of their footsteps giving them away in the snow¡­ No¡­ not men¡­ the oldest of them can¡¯t be more than about 19 Winters¡­ the youngest looks maybe 15! These are boys! Them sneaking up on me from downwind, the expressions their faces and the fact that they¡¯re pointing weapons at me immediately let me know they¡¯re not here to welcome me as their hearthstead¡¯s guest! Straight away, my mind goes to my spear but, with a curse, I realise they¡¯re already between me and it! Note to self; never leave your weapon downwind of what you¡¯re doing again! The oldest one, a tall boy with bright, curly, clay coloured hair, a wispy beard and whose body still hasn¡¯t properly filled out yet (giving him a boyish slimness) points his club at me and demands ¡°Where¡¯s the other one?!¡± ¡°What other one!?¡± I snarl in response, dropping into a fighting posture despite being outnumbered and outmatched. He extends his left hand to gesture where the charcoal basket and supply satchels are. ¡°That¡¯s too much for one person to carry. Where¡¯s the other trespasser?!¡± ¡°We aren¡¯t trespassing, boy!¡± I object ¡°There are only tw-ten of us! We can cross this territory as we please so long as we come to give you your Due! We didn¡¯t even realise this forest was occupied!¡± The boy wryly raises his club to gesture the shelter behind me ¡°Ten of you all gonna pile in there, are you(?)¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t started on the other shelters yet, boy¡­¡± I lie, immediately. ¡°That¡¯s a lie¡­¡± he states, casually ¡°¡­you¡¯re travelling with a single companion who, if their tracks are anything to go by, has weirdly long and slim shoes!¡­ So where are they?¡± ¡°We¡¯re allowed to be here, boy! However many of us there are, it¡¯s not enough to qualify as trespass!¡± He sneers ¡°You¡¯re little easements might hold weight in the Basin, Basinwoman¡­ but Hyena is an exile clan! We aren¡¯t beholden to any of your rules! Every one of our paths is marked with downturned footprints to let outsiders know to keep out because we¡¯re dangerous! We do as we like! We steal as we like! We kill. as. we. like!¡­ You¡¯ve stepped into our territory! You¡¯ve trespassed and now it¡¯s up to us what we do with you!¡­ And stop calling me ¡®boy¡¯! I¡¯m going to be a father this Spring!¡± ¡°Oh, congratulations(!)¡­ I¡¯m sure your child will grow up to be such a wonderful person(!) How could they not with a teenaged psychopath for a father(!?!?!?)¡± He sighs and throws his club away behind him, pulling out a coil of rope and marching towards me. ¡°Brogol, Nurgo, keep your spears trained on her while I tie her up¡­ She¡¯s going to see my dad!¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to see no one, boy!¡± I spit, backing away around my half finished snow shelter ¡°Do not come near me with those ropes!¡± He doesn¡¯t listen, just breaking into a sprint towards me. Instead of running away, I brace for the impact. He tackles me and immediately and clearly has the upper hand! Teenager or not, he¡¯s much larger and stronger than I am! He quickly wrestles me onto my front, pulling my hands behind me to lash my wrists together. Then he grasps the scruff of my neck with his left hand, reaching his right to my bottom jaw to begin pulling me to my feet. Big mistake! I open my mouth and bite down, hard, on the side of his hand! He screams and irresistibly wrenches his hand from between my teeth, giving me the briefest glimpse of his blood, before he kneels on my spine to keep me pinned down. ¡°She¡¯s a fucking biter!¡± spits the man actually in the process of kidnapping me (unlike the outlander who just did so with his cursed stupidity!), sounding outraged ¡°Brogol! Hand me that leather¡­ I¡¯m gonna muzzle her¡­¡± ¡°You will not muzzle me! You will let me go this instant! You-Ahhh!¡± I shriek, as a thick piece of leather appears and has its top edge drawn tight across the bridge of my nose before being fastened at the base of my skull. My unwanted bandana is easy enough to breathe through and doesn¡¯t stop me talking at all but does completely deprive me of the ability to effectively bite! I curl my feet over my back to aim ineffectual kicks at my attacker¡¯s behind, screaming but, nevertheless, I¡¯m pulled to my feet. I thrash and struggle, vainly trying either to kick him or fight my way out of his grip. Ignoring me, while holding me at arm¡¯s length, the tall teenager orders his younger accomplices ¡°Follow those prints! Apprehend the other one and bring them and all their stuff to the hearthstead! Be careful! They¡¯re probably armed!¡± ¡°Yes Lorgul!¡± say the younger boys in unison, before running off along the tracks the outlander left in the snow. My captor stands for a few breaths after his subordinates have vanished, continuing to ignore my screaming and struggling. Finally, he sighs and pushes me back in the direction of his club, saying ¡°You know¡­ I didn¡¯t want this right now!¡­ All we want is to be left alone here but¡­ every few years, someone waltzes in here acting like they own the place!!¡­ We¡¯re just defending what¡¯s ours, you understand?¡± ¡°Not even slightly, psycho!¡± I snarl in answer. ¡°*sigh*¡­Well¡­ won¡¯t matter once you and your friend are dead, I suppose¡­?¡± he says, reaching for his club as he causes me the greatest terror of my life, promising murder for a trespass I haven¡¯t even committed! I scream out ¡°HELP ME!¡­ KSEEEEEEEEEM!!!¡± *Thp* is the sound of an arrow burying itself in the snow a handsbreadth from my captor¡¯s bleeding hand, making him recoil away from his club! Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Twenty ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- I twirl the second arrow to horizontal in my hand, nock it to my bowstring and aim it at the wide eyed teenager holding Raala captive. I don¡¯t draw it yet (since the longest I could hold my bow drawn is about fifteen heartbeats and I wouldn¡¯t be able to speak properly in that time!) ¡°That was a warning shot, Sir! Please believe me when I tell you I could hit you in the eye at this distance!¡± ¡°He¡¯s not bluffing! I¡¯ve seen him kill a cavebear at fifty paces!¡± Raala confirms, sounding the happiest she ever has to have me in her presence(!) The terrified boy points his bitten and bleeding hand at me and asks ¡°What the fuck are you!? Why do you look like that?!?!?!¡± dismayed. ¡°I¡¯m from a long way South¡­¡± I answer ¡°¡­people just look like this where I¡¯m from! However, I¡¯d say you shouldn¡¯t allow my strange appearance to distract you from your more immediate concern; I am a man with a deadly ranged weapon trained on you! Let my companion go, let us get our things and leave your forest in peace and you¡¯ll have the rest of your life to wonder about just what I was!¡± ¡°I can¡¯t!¡± he answers, crouching behind Raala as if he thinks that might stop me hitting him ¡°Only my dad would have the authority to let you go!¡± ¡°Do you think your father would prefer to have an obediently dead son or a disobediently living one, Sir?¡± I threaten, calmly. He hesitates, straightens back up slightly, smiles and says ¡°I¡­ think¡­ it¡¯s about to not matter anymore!¡± My confusion at that is interrupted by Raala¡¯s eyes darting down and left and her shouting ¡°Ksem! BEHIND you!¡± just as my nose catches a whiff of petrichor and my ears the rustle of a bush. I immediately turn and start drawing my bow but, before I¡¯ve made it halfway around, I¡¯m hit in the back of the legs by a powerful tackle. My halfdrawn arrow flies into the snow, maybe ten paces away, as I¡¯m bowled to the ground and held by two, impossibly strong, attackers. My cloak falls over my head as my hands are wrestled behind my back and lashed together there. ---Lorgul¡¯s perspective--- Nurgo and I are maybe halfway back to the hearthstead with our captives. Brogol¡¯s run ahead to let everyone know to get the performance ready and taken their strange weapons (the dart launcher, bag of darts and the spear with the thousand-knap head) as well as that enormous basket (which, on examination, turned out to be mostly full of charcoal?) with him. The fighty woman I¡¯m pushing ahead of me is responding to her capture, understandably, by struggling, shouting and describing the exact spot between the Ravening Wolf¡¯s carnassials that she thinks I¡¯ll end up in for what I¡¯m doing(!) The¡­ not-sure-what-he-is is reacting far less comprehensibly. He seems unnervingly calm! Not like when I captured Tava, the Spring before last¡­ She wasn¡¯t calm¡­ She was resigned¡­ like she thought death was about as good as she could hope for! If not for this man¡¯s hands being tied together beneath his cloak and the spear pointed at his back, you could mistake him for someone just going for a relaxed walk in the woods! When I found their prints, I assumed he had to be a narrow footed woman, wearing some kind of odd snowshoe, but¡­ no! His feet just look like that! His skin is tree bark brown and his ropey hair charcoal black! His head and face are the wrong shape and his beard is thin enough that I can see that the jut of his chin doesn¡¯t come from facial hair, that¡¯s bone! I thought I was tall and slim but this man is nearly a full head taller than me while looking like he maybe weighs three quarters as much at most! His whole body looks¡­ stretched out! As if he was a piece of leather that¡¯s been put on a stretching rack! The most unnerving thing about him, however, was the way he spoke to me after his ¡®warning shot¡¯! The look in his eyes, the tone of his voice¡­ I don¡¯t think he was bluffing! I think he was genuinely prepared to kill me and might¡¯ve actually done it if Nurgo and Brogol hadn¡¯t intervened! Maybe I should bring up the possibility of revising our policy on trespassers after we¡¯ve dealt with these two? This one was too close a call! If- At that moment a particularly loud and violent outburst from the muzzled woman I¡¯m pushing ahead of me breaks my concentration. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°GIRL! If you don¡¯t. SHUT. UP. I might decide that muzzling you wasn¡¯t enough and you need to be gagged instead!¡± I warn. ¡°Oh, Sir¡­!¡± chuckles the half Human lanklet from my right. Disbelieving, I turn my attention to him to see a mirthful smile crossing his lips. ¡°¡­with just how fond she is of complaining, I¡¯m fairly certain she¡¯d grow another mouth to protest with if you did that(!) You¡¯d be much better served just learning to tune her out¡­ That¡¯s what I¡¯ve found anyway(!)¡± he finishes. My captive falls silent and still for the first time. I stare at him for a few moments, agog at his composure, before snarling ¡°You¡¯re pretty funny for a dead man!¡± Completely unfazed, he smirks ¡°I like to think I¡¯m pretty funny for a living one too(!)¡± Not able to believe the absurdity, I can¡¯t really help but chuckle as I say ¡°Alright, funny man! You think your woman would listen to you if you told her to shut up?¡± The gangling monster waggles his face from side to side and smiles ¡°Well¡­ she¡¯s not my woman for one thing!¡­ Would you believe we¡¯ve known eachother for nearly three Moons and, earlier, you witnessed the first and second times I¡¯ve ever actually heard her speak my name aloud?!... And, for the other, I don¡¯t think there¡¯s a force in the world that could shut my companion up!¡± I genuinely laugh at that. ¡°Why are you joking around with these guys who¡¯re about to kill us, outlander!¡± objects the muzzled woman, outraged (not that I¡¯ve yet seen her capable of any emotion but outrage(!)) The impossibly tall man shrugs and answers ¡°If we¡¯re going to die, we¡¯re going to die, Raala¡­ Can¡¯t let a little thing like that stop me from having fun(!)¡± I smirk up at him and laugh ¡°You know¡­ I almost wish we didn¡¯t have to kill you, funny man(!)¡± ¡°Well, you could always just accept my original offer to give us back our supplies and let us leave in peace?¡± ¡°No¡­ I couldn¡¯t.¡± I state as Hyena Hearthstead comes into view. ¡°Lorgul!¡± I hear a cry. ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- My tall, teenaged captor hands me off to be held by two even younger members of his Hearthstead as a similarly aged girl with fiery bright orange hair and a noticeably swollen belly runs past. The pregnant woman snatches up his right arm to inspect the bloody bite I left on his wrist. ¡°This looks bad, Lorgul!¡± she reproaches ¡°You¡¯ll need your aunt to have a look at it later or it might get infected!¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine, Tava! It¡¯s just-¡± ¡°It¡¯s not fine! You could lose the whole hand¡­ or worse!¡± she states, firmly ¡°You¡¯re getting it treated and that¡¯s not up for discussion! I¡¯m not raising our baby alone!¡± ¡°Alright woman, alright!¡­ Is my dad here?¡± he asks, sounding strangely wooden. ¡°Mugla¡¯s fetching him to deal with these trespassers¡­¡± says the woman, scowling at me then seeming to notice the outlander for the first time ¡°Wow! Brogol said one of them looked weird but¡­ that¡¯s the strangest looking person I¡¯ve ever seen!¡± Smiling, my fellow captee just says ¡°In my culture, Miss, it¡¯s considered rather bad manners to talk about people present as if they weren¡¯t there(!) I know your manfather is about to kill me and everything¡­ but that¡¯s no reason to be rude(!)¡± Taken aback, the woman says nothing for half a breath before giggling ¡°You are a strange one indeed, Sir(!)¡± I roll my eyes at the outlander¡¯s apparent inability to ever turn off the charm! I feel like the only one in the world who¡¯s not susceptible to it! I look around the crowd of gathered Hyenas. I only see two who are any older than the father-to-be; a man in his mid forties and a woman in her late thirties but, from context, I know that¡¯s not his father and aunt. The other nine are all children and teens. Unusual to have so many young folk in what seems like such a small clan¡­ I renew my struggling against the adolescent hands holding me in place as I see a third older man appearing between the trees, marching towards the hearthstead with a girl behind him. He¡¯s about as old as my dad and has a thick, curly, clay coloured beard with greying roots and a mangled nose that looks as if, at some point in his life, he¡¯s had it repeatedly smashed in with a rock! Strapped to his left arm is a thick plank shield and, in his right, he holds the single most absurd spear I¡¯ve ever seen! It¡¯s thick and about a leg long but it¡¯s handle is only about three handwidths! The rest of its length is lined on both sides with obsidian blade. Might be good to slash at the exposed underbelly of a rhino or a bison but, apart from that, it, like his shield, would only really be any good against people! Enough have now noticed him coming that a chant goes up of ¡°KVORT! KVORT! KVORT! KVORT! KVORT!¡­¡± as fists and weapons are thrust into the air. At about ten paces from the edge of the crowd, the man stabs his fully bladed, obsidian shortspear into the air and roars ¡°HYENAS! MY HYENAS! WHERE ARE THE TRESPASSERS!?¡± The crowd parts between him and us and he swaggers closer. Eyes immediately drawn to Ksem, he observes ¡°Well, well, well, well, well!¡­ My nephew wasn¡¯t lying about having caught a strange one(!) How¡¯s the weather up there, trespasser(?)¡± I¡¯m expecting a flippant retort¡­ but frown as I hear none come. I look up at my fellow prisoner to see him staring, transfixed, on the man who¡¯s going to kill us! Wait¡­ no¡­ he¡¯s not staring at him, he¡¯s staring at his¡­? ¡°Excuse me?¡± says the outlander to the old man. Ignoring him, the clan patriarch turns to me and says ¡°And this must be the biter!¡­ You ever think you¡¯d be wearing a muzzle for your last moments alive, girl(?!)¡± I growl through the leather and lurch towards him, only to be held back. He doesn¡¯t react¡­ except to smirk. ¡°Excuse me, Sir?¡± repeats the outlander. Ignoring him again, the man turns and holds his weapon high, grandstanding ¡°Since my mother and father were banished here from the Basin, fifty Winters ago, Hyena has always been a clan of exiles! Of outcasts! A clan of misfits, runaways and reprobates!¡± ¡°Sir? Hello?¡± ¡°When outsiders trespass on our home, when they come here looking to steal from us and otherwise do us mischief, what is our answer!?¡± ¡°DEATH!¡± roar the man¡¯s clan of psychotic children. The gravity of their call is undercut by my incomprehensibly stupid companion politely repeating ¡°Excuse me? Sir?¡± ¡°Those who come here looking to take back what they have thrown away? To drag those they have abused back to lives of Mawish misery and pain?! Those who would seek to impose onto us the rules that ceased to bind us so long ago!?!?!?¡­ They must be taught life¡¯s final lesson!!! It¡¯s-¡± ¡°Sir?¡± The horrific man wheels on my companion and snarls ¡°YES!? WHAT?!?!?!¡± Nodding towards the man¡¯s ridiculous spear, the outlander says ¡°I just wanted to say that that is an absolutely magnificent weapon!¡± Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Twenty One ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- The man with the smashed nose looks as completely baffled as I feel at the outlander¡¯s insanely bizarre compliment! Seriously! Who praises a weapon they¡¯re about to be murdered with!? Especially such an ugly one! Four fifths blade by length!? ¡°Are¡­ are you being serious right now?¡± the old man scrutinises. ¡°Oh, absolutely! That¡¯s a fantastically designed weapon! Is it your own original?¡± responds my fellow prisoner, sincerely. Looking embarrassed, the psychopath turns his eyes to the obsidian blade and answers ¡°Oh, well¡­ Not wholly¡­ When I was a younger man, I saw someone who had a spear with grooves cut down the sides that they''d mounted blades into to double the length of the spearhead¡­ The idea stuck with me and, well, I eventually decided to try making one myself. This is just many iterations later!¡± ¡°Well, that sounds like you took inspiration but that that design is yours to me! I¡¯d own it and be proud of it if I were you!¡± encourages the outlander. ¡°I¡­ erm¡­ Thank you?¡± says the confused patriarch. ¡°May I have a closer look?¡± asks my companion, hopefully. ¡°Err¡­ Sure¡­ I guess¡­?¡± says the man with the mangled nose, holding up the absurd shortspear and taking a step closer. So incredibly casually that it takes everyone a moment to realise the problem, Ksem brings his unbound hands in front of him from behind his back! The clay bearded man¡¯s eyes go wide as he notices, pulls the weapon away and demands ¡°You didn¡¯t bind his hands!?¡± looking around at his son and (I think) nephews. The boys I watched bind his hands both stutter a moment before the outland man holds up the rope and explains ¡°No, Sir¡­ They did! They just clearly aren¡¯t used to prisoners who¡¯ve got fingers quite as long, quite as slim or wrists quite as flexible as mine(!)¡­ Though, a legitimate critique would be that they did tie my hands with my cloak riding up over my head and then just let it fall back down as they stood me up!¡­ If they¡¯d taken care to tuck it between my arms and my back, they would¡¯ve had a much easier time seeing that I was untying myself(!)¡± smiling. ¡°You¡­ you didn¡¯t think of escaping once your hands were free?¡± asks the clan leader. ¡°Oh¡­ well¡­ of course I did! It¡¯s just that my people aren¡¯t as strong as yours, your son still had my companion bound and muzzled and your¡­ nephew (?) had a spear pointed at my back! Someone might¡¯ve been hurt if I¡¯d tried to escape!¡± shrugs the outlander. Chuckling nervously, the older man observes ¡°You¡¯re strange in more than just your looks, lanklet!¡­ You think I¡¯m going to let you near my weapon with unbound hands?¡± Raising his long, slender fingers to gesture around, the outlander observes ¡°You¡­ still have me at quite an insurmountable disadvantage here, don¡¯t you? I count thirteen of your clan right here and¡­ four, five, six, seven holding weapons! You can surely trust that I won¡¯t try anything foolish with my companion here still in your clansboys¡¯ power, right? I really do just want a closer look at that weapon of yours!¡± The old man looks around, assessing, before sighing, sloughing off his shield and bringing the ridiculous shortspear between him and the tall one. Bending down to admire the blade and bringing his fingers to lightly trace the edges, the outlander says ¡°Wow! Obsidian?¡± ¡°That¡¯s right.¡± states the elder. ¡°Now that¡¯s very interesting! My companion was just the other day telling me how she favours flint because, though less sharp, it¡¯s also less brittle? What influenced the choice of stone for you?¡± ¡°*Heh*¡­Well, the biter¡¯s right, of course! Obsidian is brittler than flint¡­ but my design accounts for that! You see how each obsidian tooth is relatively small and separated from those to either side?¡± smiles the old man. ¡°Oooooh! It¡¯s modular?! Each tooth can be pulled out and replaced when it breaks?!¡± infers my ridiculous companion. ¡°Exactly boy!¡± beams the psycho, proudly ¡°Keeping them separated keeps the breaks from propagating like they would in a more continuous blade!¡­ It¡¯s so refreshing to have someone interested in my craft like this!¡± I look around and see that the entire clan is just watching the pair nerding out over the man¡¯s weapon, stupefied! Realising the two boys aren¡¯t holding my arms anymore, I slowly walk forward to the outlander¡¯s side. ¡°Ksem?¡± I ask, concerned. Not even seeming to have noticed the third time I¡¯ve ever spoken his name, he just asks ¡°And¡­ does this weapon have a name, Sir?¡± ¡°Ksem¡­¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯ve gone back and forth on it¡­ slashing shortspear, shorthandle spear, longblade spear¡­ none of them feel quite right! You know?¡± ¡°Ksem!¡± I bark. The old man angrily turns his smashed nose in my direction and says ¡°Do you mind, biter?! The gentleman and I are in the middle of a conversation!¡± with all the indignity of someone not holding us both prisoner to kill us(!) Not sure what else to do, I just stand there as Ksem turns his attention back from me to the ridiculous shortspear and says ¡°I think the reason they don¡¯t feel right for this is because it isn¡¯t really a spear, is it!¡­ Spears are thrusting weapons, not slashing weapons¡­ This sort of has more in common with a knife, I¡¯d say, but ¡®longknife¡¯ doesn¡¯t really fit it either¡­ As it¡¯s designer, perhaps it should be named after you? The¡­ Kvort was it?¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Clearly flattered, the old man preens ¡°Perhaps¡­(!) Might be a little confusing around here when one of my family wants me to come somewhere armed(!) ¡®Kvort! Come quickly and bring your Kvort!¡¯(!)¡± ¡°Ah¡­ yes! But when I get back to my people and tell them about this, I think naming the design in your honour would be very fitting!¡± The man frowns and hesitates at the idiotic statement but I beat him to the punch ¡°You¡¯re not getting back to your people! These guys are going to kill us here, idiot!!!¡± Turning his head to me with a smirk, the outlander chuckles ¡°No they¡¯re not, Raala¡­¡± The greying man leans forward and hesitantly asks ¡°What¡­ makes you so sure of that, lanklet?¡± Matching the gaze, Ksem answers ¡°Because, Sir¡­ I am in the unenviable position of knowing what those who are ready to kill actually look like¡­ and they don¡¯t look like you! Neither do they look like your son¡­ or any one else here!¡± There is a collective, alarmed pull away from the tallest man present at his bold proclamation! He continues ¡°You, Sir, are a slightly better actor than your boys over there! I think, if they hadn¡¯t given away that all this was just a performance you were putting on for our benefit, it might¡¯ve taken me a little longer¡­ but I still would¡¯ve eventually figured out that you aren¡¯t a killer¡­ you¡¯re a man playacting at how he imagines a killer would be!¡± All fourteen of us just stare at him in stunned silence. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you were planning to get the first of us bent down on the ground, raise your weapon as if to cut off our heads and, then, that woman I¡¯ve seen poking around the hut a few times now (your sister?) would somehow be signalled to come out and dramatically tell you that the stars were out of alignment and that killing us would anger the gods or something? You¡¯d make a big show of annoyance and let us go and we¡¯d leave, both very unwilling to come back and very ready to warn everyone else not to come near this forest¡­ Am I right?¡± The silence continues for a long moment before, from behind the hut, I hear an old woman erupt in giggles. The entire deranged clan breaks into raucous laughter! Stepping out from behind the building, a woman, her greying, clay hair bound in bunches on top of her head and a staff in her hand, emerges and walks through the crowd, still laughing. Finally, she makes it to Ksem¡¯s front and giggles ¡°You have us well and truly pegged, lanklet! Very impressive!¡± then introduces ¡°I¡¯m Laga, acting shamaness of Hyena clan¡­ You¡¯ve met my brother, Kvort, our leader! Over there is my man, Durlu, and our brotherwoman, Kana. The rest are our children¡­ Oh! Except Tava there, my nephewwoman¡­ What may we call you two?¡± Holding up his palm which, after half a breath¡¯s frowning, the older woman takes the cue to meet with hers, Ksem gestures to me and answers ¡°This woman is Raala of Bison Clan¡­¡± and then to himself ¡°¡­and I¡¯m Ksem ¡®Bear Bane¡¯ of the 144 Channels. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you.¡± Our captors once again fall about laughing at that. The greybeard with the smashed nose aims a playful, medium strength push at Ksem¡¯s gut, knocking him backwards and laughing ¡°I don¡¯t think your strong enough to lift the amount of stolen valour you¡¯re trying to make off with there, boy(!)¡± Recovering his balance, my companion calmly answers ¡°It¡¯s true¡­ I was named not half a Moon ago by Shamaness Dirleya of Golden Eagle who ministers the six clans of the Basin¡¯s Eastern Plateau¡­ Raala was my witness.¡± Cocking his eyebrow and turning to me, the elder asks ¡°Really now, girl(?) This man killed a killer bear?! What was this, an orphaned brownbear cub that someone tripped on and fell off a cliff(!?)¡± ¡°It was a fully grown, male cavebear¡­ Twice my height¡­ Fifteen times my weight, easily! It killed my intended and brother as effortlessly as you might kill a rabbit¡­ He shot it dead at fifty paces.¡± ¡°I believe it¡­!¡± backs up the tall teen ¡°¡­He put a dart between my hand and my club when they were only a few fingerlengths apart! He was thirty paces away! Claimed it was a ¡®warning shot¡¯ and that he could have hit me in the eye if he¡¯d wanted!¡± Rightfully alarmed, the man demands ¡°Where is this dart launcher now? Who has it?! Bring it here!¡± The same boy who ran ahead (apparently to get everyone in position for our mock ''execution''(!)) brings forward the bow and quiver of arrows. The old man puts down his ¡®Kvort¡¯, takes them, draws an arrow and examines both it and the bow for a long few moments. Without taking his gaze from what he holds in his hands, he observes ¡°I¡­ see you weren¡¯t feigning your interest in unusual weapons, Bear Bane!¡± then his eyes snap up to my companion and he sharply interrogates ¡°Where were you headed before my son and nephews captured you?¡± ¡°Speartooth¡­ Just South of your Great River¡­¡± Ksem instantly divulges. ¡°Hmmm¡­ That¡¯s a looong way to go over the steppe!¡­ Even with a weapon like this, I think you might struggle to replenish your food supplies¡­ How about you and I cut a deal?¡± Amused, my companion cocks an eyebrow and invites ¡°I¡¯m listening?¡± ¡°You give Hyena these darts and their launcher, we¡¯ll give you a spear and enough supplies to see you to Speartooth! Whatever we have that you need and can carry!¡± Cocking his head in the way that signals he¡¯s about to patronise, Ksem answers ¡°Tell you what, Sir¡­ I¡¯ll take that deal if¡­¡± he raises his left arm to align it vertically with his shoulder ¡°¡­anyone in this hearthstead can hold my bow in their offhand, like this, and draw the string back to¡­¡± he pulls his closed right fist back to knock his knuckles against the side of his jaw ¡°¡­here!¡± I sigh and roll my eyes. He couldn¡¯t just tell them they wouldn¡¯t be able to use his bow, could he! Nooooo! He just needs to show off! The old man frowns and lines up the bow in his left arm, bringing his hand forward to pinch the string. Unlike me, he pinches against the side of his forefinger, meaning his hand is much better aligned than mine was¡­ but still¡­ *Twang* sings the bowstring as it pulls itself out from between his fingers. Thinking for a moment, the older man calls ¡°Lorgul! You try it!¡± The teenager steps forward. Seeming to have gathered the finger hooking technique from watching Ksem train the arrow on him earlier, he does a lot better¡­ but still only gets a little more than half a draw before straining, trembling and, finally, giving up. Wordlessly, my companion steps forward and takes the bow out of his hand. Raising it over his head, he leans his lower back forward and his upper back back and fully draws the bow, exactly the way the old man and his son both just failed to do. ¡°You see¡­ this bow is no good to any of you!¡± he explains, relaxing the draw ¡°I¡¯m only able to do this because I¡¯ve spent my whole lifetime practicing!¡­ You might actually rip a tendon trying to draw a bow that¡¯s this powerful!¡­ Not to mention, when it ultimately breaks, you wouldn¡¯t know how to make another! I¡¯d feel bad trading you something that would be of so little value to you!¡± The men he patronises both look utterly crushed at the revelation! ¡°But¡­¡± he continues, perking them back up ¡°¡­a beginner¡¯s bow could work better?¡± The whole clan transfixed by what he¡¯s just hinted, it¡¯s the shamaness who asks ¡°And¡­ a beginner¡¯s bow is something you could make for us?¡± ¡°Better than that!¡± he sparkles. ¡°Better?¡± queries the old woman. ¡°Yes!¡­ You see, I¡¯m not the one who¡¯s going to make it!¡± he raises a finger to point into the tall teenager¡¯s face ¡°He is!¡± Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Twenty Two ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- ¡°You¡¯re fraying it¡­¡± observes the brown eyed man, his long arms folded across his flat chest and a smug expression on his face as he looks down at the clay haired, teenaged father-to-be. Holding up the denticulated axestone in his bandaged hand, the boy answers ¡°You ever tried to cut wood with half your hand bitten off, lanklet(!?)¡± With an amused twitch of his eyebrow, Ksem immediately answers ¡°No¡­ because I don¡¯t make a habit of running around kidnapping people to pretend to kill them(!) Thus, my hands don¡¯t get bitten(!) Enough excuses! Just cut it cleaner!¡± ¡°What does it matter if it frays? I¡¯m going to be pairing all this down anyway, right?¡± Condescendingly, the black haired man corrects ¡°You fray the cut, it becomes harder for you to split the stave cleanly down the middle! You might also end up having to shorten the limbs too much, leading to a weaker bow than you want to start with! We may need to start the whole thing again with another stave and you don¡¯t have an infinite supply of suitable ones or time!¡­ Worse, you might put structural weaknesses in your bow that neither of us even notice until I¡¯m gone and it snaps! You wouldn¡¯t know what you¡¯d done wrong and would likely blame me for your bow¡¯s shoddiness!¡± Screwing up his eyes in thought, the boy gestures the palmwidth thick, dry, elm stave pulled from Hyena¡¯s firewood stores and asks ¡°Remind me again why it¡¯s better value for me to be doing this instead of you when you already know how to do it?¡± With a haughty wiggle of his round head, the tall man patronises ¡°Precisely because I already know how to do it! You are learning by doing!¡± ¡°Couldn¡¯t I learn just as effectively by watching and listening?¡± asks the boy, suspiciously. ¡°No, you couldn¡¯t¡­ Watching and listening means you have to remember everything you see and hear! You¡¯re just not going to do that!¡± ¡°You calling me thick!?¡± snarls the boy. Waggling his face, Ksem denies ¡°Nope!¡­ I¡¯m simply stating the fact that anyone asked to watch and listen to three days¡¯ worth of demonstration and instruction and retain all of it would fail in that endeavour! Making you do the work yourself means you don¡¯t need to remember my words! The memory will be in your hands and that¡¯s much harder to forget!¡­ Also, if I were just doing it for you, you might mistakenly think you¡¯ve understood things and not ask about them! This way, when you make a mistake, I can see that you haven¡¯t understood and correct you in real time! Your intelligence is not in question here¡­ except to the extent that you keep questioning the value of the tutelage that your hearthstead is paying me for(!)¡± Waggling the axestone at my companion, the boy narrows his eyes to ask ¡°Anyone ever told you you¡¯re insufferably smug?¡± Chuckling, my companion answers ¡°Only about three times a Moon since I learned to speak(!) Though that rate has drastically increased since I started travelling with that lovely lady by the hearth over there¡­¡± gesturing over to where I sit watching ¡°¡­I like to think my smugness is all just part of my charm(!)¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m suuure you do(!)¡± grumbles the boy. ¡°Enough talk. Cut the stave and do it neatly¡­ I¡¯d like to depart before we both die of old age(!)¡± The boy scowls but raises the stone to continue hacking the dry wood to length. I watch for a while before- ¡°Hey¡­?¡± I turn around to a visibly pregnant teen with the most vividly orange hair I¡¯ve ever seen standing behind me. ¡°¡­Am I allowed to share the bench or are you gonna bite me if I get too close(?)¡± she asks, wryly, pointing to the other end of the sitting log. ¡°Depends¡­¡± I answer, humourlessly ¡°¡­are you planning to wrestle me to the ground and tie me up while saying you¡¯re going to murder me(?)¡­ Because, in that case, I make no promises¡­!¡± ¡°Ha! Fair!¡± she acknowledges, gingerly lowering herself to seated with the grunting effort of a woman three Moons from giving birth ¡°I guess biting would be an understandable reaction from someone who wanted to live!¡± Confused, I frown and ask ¡°What does that mean? Who wouldn¡¯t want to live?¡± There¡¯s a long pause. Then she quietly answers ¡°¡­I didn¡¯t¡­ nearly two years ago¡­ when Lorgul captured me¡­¡± Appalled, I slowly and wordlessly turn my head to her. ¡°I ran away from my hearthstead, down South¡­¡± she explains ¡°¡­stole a canoe and just let it carry me along the Great River¡­ When a rock smashed a hole in the bottom, I put it ashore and just wandered out onto the steppe¡­ I was so tired, hungry and miserable when I made it here that the thought they might just end my life quickly actually seemed like a relief¡­! They did their usual routine, pretending they were going to kill me but, after Laga intervened, I burst into tears and begged them for death¡­ They took me in instead¡­ Every day, I give thanks to Mother Mammoth for creating a life for me here and to the Great Elk for leading me to it¡­¡± I just stare at the girl for a long time, digesting her words. Finally, I manage ¡°¡­Why¡­ did you run away?¡± She grimaces and answers ¡°You¡¯re¡­ probably happier not knowing that¡­ Let¡¯s just say I¡­ wasn¡¯t treated kindly¡­¡± I feel worse at those words than I would if this girl had just punched me! ¡°This¡­ wasn¡¯t Speartooth, was it?¡­ Your birth clan?¡± I ask, apprehensively. ¡°Oooh! No!¡± she quickly reassures ¡°If you¡¯d said you were heading there, I definitely would have said something about it!¡± Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Relieved, I grunt a grateful acknowledgement. We sit in silence as the woman¡¯s man attempts to split that stave down the middle. The split runs short, leaving a big piece and a little one. ¡°Congratulations(!) You will now get a maximum of one bow out of this stave¡­ This whooole side just became firewood¡­¡± chuckles the brown eyed man instructing ¡°¡­Turn it over and try to finish the split from the other end... Make sure you line it up with the piece you¡¯ve already taken off¡­ so one doesn¡¯t become none!¡± The boy growls frustratedly but does as instructed. It does feel extremely validating to have someone else around who finds Ksem¡¯s whole know-it-all shtick grating! Realising I¡¯m a bit thirsty, I reach for the ibex waterskin and offer it next to me to Tava. She smiles and waves it away, saying ¡°Thanks. I¡¯m not thirsty though.¡± I bring it to my lips and take a swig. In my periphery, I see the girl lean in and ask ¡°Hey! Dying to know! What¡¯s with all the charcoal? That¡¯s an obscene amount to just be carrying around the steppe with you(!)¡± with an amused smile. ¡°Fuel.¡± I explain, swallowing while continuing to watch the bowmaking ¡°He wouldn¡¯t let us leave for a third of a Moon because I had a broken foot¡­ He spent the entire time bringing back bundles of sticks from the forest, refusing to explain how he was planning to carry them, dug a hole, lit a fire in it, threw the whole lot in (way too quickly) then put it out with water. We¡¯d been cooking our food on charcoal fires all three nights before we got here.¡± ¡°Oooooooh! That¡¯s clever!!! I should suggest that here next time someone needs to leave the forest!¡± Ignoring the twinge of irritation I feel at her admiration for the idiot outlander, I explain ¡°Yeah¡­ his people don¡¯t make permanent homes and don¡¯t linger in forests. They prefer camping out on open country so figuring out how to make fuel portable made sense for them.¡± Rightfully confused, she clarifies ¡°How does that work? How do they live out on open country?¡± I give a humourless laugh and answer ¡°Their ancestors apparently must have made a deal to exchange their mature faces, strength, speed and the ability to wake up in the morning for stature, high numbers and infinite stamina(!)¡± ¡°Infinite stamina?¡± she asks, sceptically. ¡°I went on a hunt with them, out on the plains by my clan¡¯s territory¡­ They didn¡¯t go more than a gentle jogging speed but they all ran until I collapsed from exhaustion, then kept running until the aurochs they were chasing did the same! They were barely even out of breath!¡± I maintain ¡°When we were walking to my grandmother¡¯s for his naming ceremony, me and my clansman would walk with him from restspot to restspot, he¡¯d help us set things up and then just go for a walk around because he ¡®hadn¡¯t done enough exercise¡¯! When he was holding us up in that cave, he wouldn¡¯t leave until, like, halfway through the morning¡­ but he¡¯d stay out from then until twilight!¡± Stunned, she looks at the tall babyface and says ¡°Wow! Really? Outland stamina must be something else!¡± ¡°Guess so¡­¡± I grudgingly concede, reaching for the waterskin again. ¡°Bet that¡¯s fun for you(!)¡± she smirks, mirthfully. Perplexed, I ask ¡°What does that mean?¡± before taking a swig and- ¡°When you have sex?¡± -inhaling the water and spitting it out so violently that both the men look over at me before thumping my sternum, coughing! Desperate to correct her as quickly as possible, I don¡¯t let myself fully recover before objecting ¡°We¡­*cough**cough**cough**cough**cough*¡­ don¡¯t! He¡¯s¡­*cough**cough**cough*¡­ not my¡­*cough**cough*¡­ man!¡­*cough**cough**cough*¡­ NO sex!¡± Puzzled, she frowns, looks from me to the man who¡¯s already turned his attention back to his apprentice bowmaker and asks ¡°Really? You¡¯re travelling alone together with a man who isn¡¯t yours?¡± ¡°Not¡­*cough*¡­by choice! You remember¡­*cough**cough*¡­the part of the story where we¡­*cough*¡­got trapped?!¡± I rasp. Still confused, she clarifies ¡°Are you at least intended?¡± ¡°We are¡­*cough*¡­the opposite! I don¡¯t intend to ever let him get so much as another glimpse of my¡­*cough*¡­nipples!¡± I insist, only realising as I see her face getting more confused how baffling that statement would be. She opens her mouth to ask what the Maw I¡¯m talking about but I start explaining before she can. ¡°His people don¡¯t do nudity¡­ Definitely not mixed gender nudity! Apparently, after their boys hit puberty, the only women who¡¯re ever allowed to see them naked again are healers and their woman¡­ Same for girls!¡± ¡°But¡­¡± she wonders ¡°¡­he¡¯s a Bane, right? He became a Bane half a Moon ago? How did that-?¡± ¡°My grandmother let him wear a loincloth for the ceremony once he¡¯d explained¡­¡± I clarify ¡°¡­men¡¯s nipples are apparently fine to them¡­ Only women¡¯s are indecent(!)¡± Bursting into giggles, she observes ¡°That seems arbitrary!!!¡± ¡°Right?!¡± I enthusiastically agree. Then she frowns again and asks ¡°So¡­ you¡¯ve been travelling with him for three quarters of a Moon, alone for two thirds of that time¡­ and you haven¡¯t seen him naked or let him see you naked once?!¡± ¡°Eeeeeyep!¡± I confirm. ¡°That sounds¡­¡± ¡°Awkward as fuck?¡± I suggest. ¡°Yeah! How do you handle¡­ like¡­ toilet and stuff?!¡± ¡°When we were at the cave, I¡¯d just go while he was out and I guess he was doing the same? I only remember him once leaving the cave at night for it¡­ It¡¯s been¡­ trickier since we got out onto the steppe¡­ It''s mostly involved us announcing that we need to go, saying where we''re going to go and telling the other not to look in that direction for a bit!¡± ¡°Wow! Prudishness sounds like hard work!¡± she chuckles. ¡°Yeah¡­ it is kind of!¡± I agree. We fall silent again as the tutor explains ¡°Now, see, this is the back of the bow! This is the belly! After you¡¯ve debarked it, you won¡¯t be taking any material from the back, all the pairing is done on the belly! Be careful not to take anything other than the bark off the back!¡± The teenager says something I can¡¯t catch at this distance as he set¡¯s to work lightly scraping off the bark. Then a thought occurs to me ¡°So¡­ like¡­ Durlu, Kana and Kvort¡¯s late woman¡­ they all came here the same way you did? That¡¯s a lot more runaways than I would¡¯ve expected to make it out to this tiny speck of liveable land so far from anywhere!¡± She laughs and answers ¡°Kana and Poriya both came here the traditional way¡­ Just involved a little private explanation of exactly how they did things here once they¡¯d agreed(!)¡­ Durlu, though¡­ He and his friends apparently came here and had the whole ¡®we¡¯re going to kill you¡¯ routine¡­ The next day though, he came back and declared he would either become Laga¡¯s man or happily submit to death!¡­ It sounds like it was very romantic when they tell the story!¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­ to me it sounds like a bit much to go that far for a woman you met once¡­ yesterday!¡± I point out. ¡°A woman who, from your perspective, saved you from death?¡± she muses in answer. ¡°A gift you¡¯re now throwing back in her face by returning with the ultimatum ¡®be mine or let your family kill me¡¯(!)¡± I remark. ¡°Well¡­ they ended up with four children together¡­ Clearly, Laga wasn¡¯t as put off by it as you¡¯d be(!)¡± ¡°Clearly(!)¡± I agree before asking ¡°So¡­ what exactly¡¯s the story with the whole mock murder act? I know Kvort and Laga¡¯s parents were exiles but how exactly did they end up deciding that the best way to act was to pretend to be about to murder everyone who stumbled by?¡± ¡°Oh¡­ Well¡­ I guess¡­ when they first came out here, it was just the two of them¡­ very quickly followed by Kvort being born¡­ I think, the first time, it was genuine¡­ A guy came around here while their dad was out and¡­ well¡­ he came back to find his woman roughed up, Kvort bawling and this guy raiding their food stores¡­ They¡¯d already committed one murder to be together so, I think, he thought ¡®what¡¯s one more?¡¯¡­ She pleaded with him not to do it and, eventually, he relented and just sent this guy on his way, beaten up but alive¡­ He never came back here. Since then, I guess defending ourselves by pretending to be crazy murderers to scare people off has been more¡­ just¡­ a tradition?¡± ¡°That¡¯s horrible!¡± I scowl. ¡°That¡¯s life, girl!¡± comes a man¡¯s voice from behind me. I turn to see the curly, greying, clay beard and smashed nose of a man nonchalantly swaggering in our direction. Kvort sits down between me and Tava and continues ¡°You find something you value, you need to be willing to protect it! Otherwise, someone else might just take it from you(!)¡± proving his point by snatching the piece of ibex jerky I was in the process of bringing to my mouth and popping it into his own! Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Twenty Three ---Lorgul¡¯s perspective--- With my entire clan silently watching me, I step over the stave of elm I¡¯ve just spent three days pairing to shape. Easily bending it around my leg, I hook the looped string into the top notch and raise the bow. I pinch the end of one of the long, straight sticks in the bag at my waist, just above the ember trimmed feathers lashed around it. Bringing it up to thread through the gap between the belly and the string, I nock it and hook my fingers around it to the top and bottom. I consciously exhale a foggy breath. Narrowing my eyes, I aim, draw back to the firehardened end and¡­ release! The arrow veers about three paces wide of the rotten stump I was aiming at and skips over the snow crust before burying itself. Disappointed and ashamed to have missed my first shot in front of my entire family, I turn to the absurdly tall man watching me¡­ only to be surprised to see his eery face looking pleased? ¡°Not bad!¡± he praises. I frown and gesture over to where the feathered end sticks out from the snow and point out ¡°I missed¡­?¡± He bobs his face down and up once, acknowledging ¡°Yes you did, Lorgul¡­ but your release was clean and you honestly got closer than I thought you would on your first go!¡­ You come out here for, say, a thousand breaths every slow day, I reckon you¡¯ll be able to hit that stump at this distance every time by the end of Summer!¡­One pointer though¡­¡± he reaches out to tap his long, slender palm against my upper arm ¡°¡­you¡¯re still drawing mainly from here!¡± He walks behind me and pats the bottom of my right shoulderblade ¡°Here¡¯s where you need to be drawing from!¡­ Less important on a beginner¡¯s bow but if you ever want to progress to a bow anything like mine, that technique won¡¯t cut it¡­ Try again and engage your shoulder this time.¡± I sigh, draw another arrow, nock it, breathe out and, making a conscious effort to do so, draw back while forcing my shoulder to do most of the work. It¡¯s much easier but¡­ focusing on that means my aim is even worse than the first time. ¡°Better!¡± the tangy smelling outland man beams, clapping his hands together ¡°Now¡­ if you¡¯ll just run me through the rules I gave you one more time, I think my companion and I will collect our leather tarp and rations and be on our way!¡± ¡°Uhm¡­ Alright?¡­ Rule one) Even a beginners bow is a deadly weapon¡­ so always clear the range before practice? Check behind every tree in case someone¡¯s hiding there and call out that I¡¯m about to start shooting?¡± He cocks an eyebrow and answers ¡°Are you asking me or telling me?¡± A bit irritated that he¡¯s picking me up on my tone, I retort ¡°I¡¯m telling you!¡± He gives that smug smile of his and says ¡°Good! You¡¯re telling me correctly!¡­ Rule two?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t overtrain¡­ I¡¯ll injure myself. If I start feeling twinges anywhere, that¡¯s my cue to stop!¡± I answer, careful not to intone it as a question. ¡°Correct. Next?¡± ¡°If I do injure myself, I¡¯ve got to give the injury as much time as necessary before I¡¯m back at full strength. Don¡¯t do anything to strain it or I could do permanent damage.¡± ¡°Indeed! Rules four, five, six and seven. Go!¡± he grins. ¡°Wait until I can hit the stump twenty consecutive times in a row before moving back ten paces. Don¡¯t wait until this bow breaks before making another one to keep the skills fresh in my mind. Use firehardened arrows until I¡¯m good enough to hunt with it, then switch to microliths. Teach all the rules to anyone I teach and make sure they respect them too.¡± I rattle off. ¡°Excellent, Lorgul!¡± beams my tutor, clapping me on the shoulder ¡°If we ever meet again, I expect you shall make me proud! Now¡­?¡± he turns to face my clan. My aunt steps forward with a large, folded piece of weatherproofed leather and my dad with a satchell of nut flour, dried fruit and meat. ¡°As promised, lanklet.¡± grins my aunt handing over the improved shelter roof. ¡°Remember, anyone asks, you barely escaped this forest with your lives(!)¡± grins my dad ¡°We like our privacy(!)¡± ¡°Of course, of course(!)¡± chuckles the man, taking the payment ¡°Only bloodthirsty, exiled killers here(!) I¡¯ll warn everyone who asks away!¡­ Though, if any of you ever fancy a change of scenery, you would be welcome as guests of my people!¡± My dad belly laughs and answers ¡°We¡¯ll bear that in mind, Bear Bane!¡­ Now, off with you before you waste the whole damn day(!)¡± The man bobs his head again before looking over to the sour faced biter. She steps forward, their bags on her back, her strangely tipped spear in her left hand and the giant, jingling willow basket of charcoal in the other. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. She wordlessly hands him the large container and, as soon as he has it, holds the same hand out for the supply satchel. She slings it over her back as he unties and opens the lid before placing the tarp in with their charcoal and digging stick. He fastens it back up and lifts the whole thing to wear on his back, pushing his arrow bag to hang from his right shoulder. With one last turn for the man to wish us all ¡°Goodbye!¡± (the biter turning too but staying silent) the pair of them resume their journey South. ---Dirleya¡¯s perspective--- *Thump**thump**thump**thump**thump**thump* comes a sound unlike anything I¡¯ve ever heard, echoing from the West. I¡¯m just looking in that direction and about to get up to investigate when Wulra rips open the door to the herb hut, Korbu on her hip. ¡°Ma¡¯am¡­!¡± says the terrified woman, panting hard ¡°¡­they¡¯re here!¡± I rise to my feet, not reflecting her alarm outwardly (though I definitely feel it inwardly), put on my headdress and step from the building. Looking through the gap between the sleeping hut and the store hut, I try to catch a glimpse of the arriving force. They got here quickly! My daughterman¡¯s message only arrived here from Bison last night with that Wolf boy¡­ I had assumed they¡¯d take another few days but getting here now suggests that they met him as he backtracked back along the path home¡­ like they were already waiting at the boarder with Wolf and crossed the instant they had permission! For a moment, I think it¡¯s a little frightening that they could catch up to a message they gave a two day headstart on a week long journey! As I catch my first sight of them however, the fear of their speed over country is utterly overshadowed by a new fear entirely! I watch them as they approach, three lines of outlanders, each line¡­twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen long! The first twelve ranks are all fully bedecked in padded leather clothing, looking as if it would do well at protecting its wearer from most kinds of injury, carrying spears and tall wooden shields, all extending from knee to eye level, all bearing the same painted pattern of concentric circles on the front. At first, it looks as if every single one of them is righthanded¡­ then I notice that the backmost row of spearwielders is reversed¡­ meaning that, of the thirty six, they only have three lefthanded folk? Behind the spears, there are two rows of even more heavily padded, large men (I see no women among them) each wielding a two handed club. Behind them, the backmost two rows of all are the most terrifying! Six of what I recognise as bowwielders march there! Just that many users of that frightful weapon could massacre my entire clan in the space of a hundred breaths on their own, I would guess! The column marches in perfect rhythmic lockstep, which is what¡¯s making that repetitive clomping sound. Despite their variety of heights, all but one of them are perfectly matching their stride length to the rest, allowing them to stamp in time with eachother while staying in formation¡­ It¡¯s as if they¡¯d measured out forty nine pieces of identical lengths of rope and each tied their own ankles together! The one who isn¡¯t marching in time is also both the oldest (I¡¯m guessing in her forties as compared with the others, all in their twenties and early thirties, but it¡¯s hard to tell exactly) and the least terrifying looking by far! Despite her age and her position as one of the two marching apart from and in front of this column, I can see she is not the one in charge here! That distinction would have to go to the grim faced woman beside her! Early twenties, spear and shield, wooden greaves on her shins and padded leather everywhere else! Unlike the rest, her hat is adorned with a pair of short antlers, letting me know it must have some kind of internal frame to support them and marking her out visually from the rest. Her face is reminiscent of the boy who, half a Moon ago, gave me a much more pleasant version of an outlander¡¯s visit¡­ and on whose account these fifty are here now! Their spears all sway in time with eachother as forty nine right feet hit the ground at once, followed by forty nine left feet! None of them even glance in the direction of me or anyone else in my hearthstead as, at first, it looks like they might just follow the road along the North side of the buildings and keep lockstep marching their way East! The antlered woman, however, makes it most of the way across the hearthstead before screaming ¡°WEKEEEEET AN!¡± in words I can infer the meaning of by the fact that the entire column comes to a dead stop! In profile, I¡¯m able to see each one of them carries a large satchel on their backs that must contain all the provisions they need for their journey. ¡°ENEREEEEEZ ZGEN!¡± cries the same woman, snapping into a right turn and matched by her entire guard of forty eight (like everything I¡¯ve seen them do) in perfect unison! I¡¯m ashamed to say I flinch! Facing us now, I see that the shields form a sort of¡­ wall along the line of them? ¡°Qetna!¡± she shouts without screaming. The sixteen long, three deep formation visibly relaxes but stays standing right where it is. The antlered woman and the unarmed, unarmoured one begin walking in my direction. I force myself to project calm as the looming women approach (the older as tall as a good portion of my kind¡¯s men, the younger taller still than that!) Wulra does not do as good a job as me, audibly quailing. The tall, antlered woman stares down at me with a stony expression before opening her mouth to say ¡°Bwey. Ksem sister. You Dirleya?¡± with thickly accented speech while thrusting her palm in my direction. Gently, I bring my own up to meet it, feeling its warmth as I answer ¡°I am Dirleya. Welcome to Golden Eagle.¡± ¡°Hm!¡± she grunts, mirthlessly, before continuing ¡°I not good for speak¡­ You hear it! Zgrizeh here for help speak.¡± gesturing to the older woman. Her demeanour respectful and her speech much more easily comprehended, the unarmed woman explains ¡°It is a pleasure to meet you, Shamaness. My name is Zgrizeh and I will be acting as your translator when you talk to the wardeness. We hope to avoid miscommunications this way.¡± ¡°I understand completely and thank you for your service. Would your¡­ erm¡­ hunters care to come in?¡± The antlered woman looks to the older one and says something in their language. The older one listens before translating ¡°The wardeness requests the use of your hearth for our contingent to cook with. They have not eaten today. They will use their own fuel and food.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± I allow, appreciating the small courtesy amidst this devastatingly effective show of force ¡°You may use it as if it were your own! I can have Wulra bring some of our fuel if you wish¡­ though, with so many, I¡¯m afraid we would struggle to feed you all.¡± The translator translates and then back ¡°This is appreciated but unnecessary, the wardeness says. We shall gladly use our own.¡± ¡°Meq ne¡¯ents erad! Bwerez!¡± shouts the wardeness, causing her force to break from their position and trudge forward to the fireplace. ¡°Shall we talk inside?¡± I suggest to the two women, calmly gesturing the herb hut. ¡°Good.¡± answers the antlered woman. ¡°That would be agreeable.¡± softens the translator. I turn to walk in that direction but my attention immediately snaps to the firepit as I hear a jingling rattle. I look to see an entire bag of¡­ charcoal being emptied out by one of the outlanders? How odd! I recover my momentarily lapsed attention and step inside. Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Twenty Four ---Dirleya¡¯s perspective--- The two tall, slender women step into my herb hut behind me. The unarmed one sets herself down with her back to the Northeastern wall as I crouch to sit on the rug facing the door, struggling to keep my arthritic pain out of my face. As Wulra enters, the youngest woman props her strange, foreign looking spear by the door where a weapons rack would be, then unstraps her tall, painted shield and stands it in front of her weapon. Dropping to the floor with all the speed, force and ease her youth allows, the girl removes her antlered hat and sets it next to her. The fact that it remains rigid (standing up on its own without containing her head) confirms my suspicion about the internal frame. The roundness of her skull is completely obscured by a burst of now uncontained thick, curly black hair. In contrast, the barely contained anger on her outlandish face is fully displayed¡­ though¡­ there¡¯s something else there too¡­ something I can¡¯t quite put my finger on. ¡°You may leave us, Wulra.¡± I instruct ¡°Please attend to the needs of our guests by the hearth.¡± ¡°I¡­ uhm¡­ I w-won¡¯t be able to unders-stand what they ask me, shamaness?¡± she stutters, clearly not wishing to approach so many so frightful people! ¡°I¡¯m sure they know how to mime and point, girl.¡± I answer, pointedly ¡°I would not wish them to think Golden Eagle Clan¡­ inhospitable.¡± Taking the cue, my assistant unhappily exits the hut, leaving me alone with the terrifying woman across from me and her translator on my right. Once I hear her footsteps recede, I ask ¡°I trust you have had safe travels with a party such as that?¡± The translator speaks over me to the leader then turns back with the answer ¡°We have indeed. We are grateful to Bison, Wolf and Golden Eagle for so readily accommodating our passage.¡± neutrally. The brown eyed, young woman looks at me rather than her translator as she continues. ¡°Wardeness Bwey wishes to proceed to business¡­ The reason for our expedition here is-¡± ¡°That her brother has disappeared while visiting my hearthstead and she thinks my clan or some portion of us may have murdered him?¡± I finish for her, meeting the girl¡¯s gaze with my one sighted eye. The pair both sit, staring at me, stunned. The translator remains silent. ---Bwey¡¯s perspective--- I¡¯m completely thrown by what I think the one eyed old woman just said! Zgrizeh¡¯s reaction makes me think I didn¡¯t misunderstand! Before she translates, I give a single, humourless puff to say ¡°*Huh*! You clever, woman!¡± in Basinspeak. ¡°Kva kor.¡± ¡°Not clever.¡± Zgrizeh recovers in time to resume translating. ¡°Ensotra, ya kirn navaat ot, kvalt kor(!)¡± ¡°Unfortunately, age only brings with it canniness, not cleverness.¡± she says, missing the old woman¡¯s humorous lilt. ¡°Kir kal nurt gvadass, iley!¡± ¡°She is canny enough for candour in this circumstance.¡± I take a deep breath while I think about how to adapt to this unpredicted development. All my strategies revolved around the shamaness being an evasive doubletalker¡­ I wasn¡¯t prepared for her to meet me head on like this! This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Finally, I just ask ¡°Did she do it?¡± in my language. The question goes through Zgrizeh to the old woman and back ¡°She says no, she didn¡¯t, and nor does she believe any of her clan did¡­ but she does observe that that is definitely also what she would say if she did have knowledge of your brother¡¯s murder.¡± While I¡¯m mulling over my next move, the one eyed woman starts speaking again. ¡°She asks what you think she or her clan might have had to gain from murdering Ksem. He is the man who avenged the death of her grandson and her granddaughter¡¯s intended, afterall. This was a great service to her birth clan.¡± Scowling, I answer ¡°Ksem is our leader!¡­ I think they might¡¯ve thought we would be weaker without him to unite us.¡± The old woman¡¯s eyebrows dance beneath her headdress on her thick brow as she listens to my words¡¯ translation, clearly considering them carefully. ¡°She observes that, under your brother¡¯s leadership, only one of our people ever entered her clan¡¯s lands, Ksem himself. There was no need for him to arrive here with an escort under arms, no need for shows of force. Under your leadership, her clan is currently occupied by double its own number, all but one of us dressed and armed as if we expect to need to fight¡­ She says that it seems to her that his leadership was the more evenhanded of the two of you and that killing Ksem would have been a bad bet! Like¡­erm¡­¡± she breaks off to clarify with the old woman ¡°¡­Kivka waln?¡± ¡°Ag kivka kivka! Ird iwen wal! *bzzzzz*!¡± the one eyed local says before miming stabbing her finger into her arm and being in pain from it. Returning her gaze to me, Zgrizeh finishes ¡°Like trying to avoid hornet stings by throwing rocks at their nest!¡± ¡°Yes! So you would have been wrong to think we¡¯d be weak and directionless without Ksem around! It would have been a catastrophic misjudgement on your part to believe that we wouldn¡¯t have been furiously angry about the death of the last male descendent of our clan¡¯s founder¡­ but that doesn¡¯t necessarily mean that¡¯s not what you thought though, does it?¡± I growl back at the calm old woman ¡°If you wrongly thought that killing my brother would be to your people¡¯s advantage, only to find out you¡¯d thrown a rock at a hornets¡¯ nest, pretending now that you¡¯d¡¯ve been far too ¡®canny¡¯ for such a misstep would be exactly what you would do, wouldn¡¯t it!¡± I watch as the elder puffs out her lips and turns her wrinkled palm to the low ceiling, answering ¡°Ilak¡­ Ka lak¡­ Nokor daj walaku ¡®Irn kor ensordak¡¯.¡± ¡°Granted¡­ You¡¯re right¡­ All she can say is ¡®that is not what happened¡¯.¡± ¡°Porvok na gruha na nolot garaam¡­ Ikalad.¡± adds the green eye. ¡°Trust or violence is up to you¡­ They are innocent.¡± translates Zgrizeh. I scrutinise the aged woman for a few heartbeats, then announce ¡°I want to question every one of your clan individually¡­ I also want to go and investigate this cave collapse¡­ I assume neither of those will be an issue?¡± The old woman answers. ¡°She asks if she may be present for this questioning.¡± ¡°Tell her she may but that she¡¯s not to try signalling any of her people to the answers she wants them to give us.¡± My words go through Zgrizeh and back ¡°She says that that is acceptable¡­ She regrets-erm-¡± turning to clarify ¡°Waarta va uurn?¡± ¡°Aga waarta¡­¡± she answers, gesturing her wrist, then elbows, then knees ¡°¡­Ird ga.¡± Briefly nodding her understanding, Zgrizeh continues ¡°She regrets that she will not be able to show us to the Cave of Bones herself, her arthritis preventing the climb at her age¡­ She will happily have her assistant take us there though¡­ She also must require that, while in there, we restrain any reaction we might have to the smell.¡± ---Wulra¡¯s perspective--- My stomach roils against the impulse to gag as the stink of decay violates my nostrils. I watch the terrifying woman, bent down to scrutinise the footprint mark beside the entrance to the now blocked Eastern Passage, her narrowed eyes as close as they can get without obstructing the light of the two torches being held for her. ¡°Leh e¡¯utz¡­ e¡¯utz ke!¡± she says. The slightly less terrifying older one turns to me to ask ¡°Do you know when this footprint was last retouched?¡± Looking back at her nervously, I stammer ¡°I¡­erm¡­ I d-don¡¯t know exactly?¡­ B-before my time, I think?¡­ Cave p-paintings don¡¯t n-need to be retouched very often¡­ Th-the weather c-can¡¯t get to them?¡± confused as to why they¡¯re concerned with the age of the path marker? ¡°E¡¯utz nu. E¡¯utzen bwae na tseneret¡­ tere nei vuret.¡± relays the woman I¡¯d guess to be ten Winters my senior. ¡°Wetzet bein¡­ Itzel leh nuut!¡± responds the woman I¡¯d guess more than ten Winters my junior, standing back up (to a height as much taller than me as I¡¯m taller than Dirleya!) and striding forward. The other torchbearer follows without hesitation. After a tiny bit of hesitation, I follow too. We walk for a few tens of breaths before we reach the blockage. The torchless woman turns to me to interrogate ¡°Leh nu?¡± ¡°This is it?¡± relays the older woman. ¡°This is the c-collapse¡­ y-yes.¡± I answer ¡°If your b-brother and the sh-shamaness¡¯s granddaughter are alive, they¡¯re beyond that¡­¡± leaving unstated the possibility that they¡¯re beneath it. Looking up at the towering woman as she reaches out to lay her palm on the rock, I see the ferocious mask drop¡­ replaced with the face of a frightened sister. Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Twenty Five ---Reutsa¡¯s perspective--- My feet crunch through the snow as I walk away from tonight¡¯s camp, a wooden bowl of hot water in each hand and one of those pouches the old woman gave us as a parting gift dangling from my left. Making my way through the eery, leafless, dead looking trees with the frozen white powder I still haven¡¯t fully got used to covering the ground, I arrive at the edge of a blufftop. Looking out over the otherworldly moonlit landscape, I see a tall woman with a head of curly hair. ¡°Hey boss¡­¡± I call to her. Bwey turns and smiles at me in a way that doesn¡¯t touch her eyes. ¡°Hey, Tsatsa¡­ What¡¯s up?¡± she asks, wearily, eyes flicking to my hands. I hold up the steaming bowls and explain ¡°The girls and I just tried some of the herby stuff that one eyed medicine woman gave us when we left¡­ Pretty good shit! Strikes a fire in your belly and warms you up from the inside!¡­ Perfect for keeping awake on watch!¡­ Thought you might like to try some?¡± Her mouth twists as she asks ¡°You¡¯re sure it¡¯s not poison(?)¡± I shrug and point out ¡°Kzetel had some last night and he¡¯s still kicking(!) That¡¯d be the slowest acting poison I¡¯d ever heard of(!)¡± She gives a wonderful little giggle at that but still says ¡°I¡­ probably shouldn¡¯t¡­¡± Knowing exactly how to stoke this girl¡¯s fire, I don¡¯t contradict her. Instead, I agree ¡°Yeah¡­ Might be a bit strong for you¡­¡± looking away like it¡¯s no big deal. Her eyes immediately snap to my face and I spend the next five heartbeats trying to pretend I haven¡¯t noticed while she works out whether she¡¯d rather let me manipulate her or let the challenge go unanswered(!) Finally, she points to a fallen tree and says ¡°Gimme the fucking drink, Reutsa!¡± her voice fairly evenly split between humour and annoyance. ¡°Sure thing, boss¡­¡± I smile, walking over to the seat with her. She reaches down and dusts the cold, powdered water from enough of the horizontal trunk for us to sit on. I come down next to her with enough space between us to balance the steaming bowls. I take a large pinch of the blend from the pouch to sprinkle into the right one and dip my finger to stir it until it¡¯s mixed evenly into the hot water. That done, I gesture for her to take the drink as I repeat the process for the one on the left. As I stir mine, I watch her bring it to her lips and sip. ¡°Ugh!¡± she winces ¡°Well¡­ that¡¯s gotta be the strongest drink I¡¯ve ever tasted!... It¡¯s¡­That mintiness makes for a really strange combination with the bitterness of the ephedra!¡­ And what¡¯s that floral note?¡± ¡°Zgrizeh says it¡¯s called ¡®yarrow¡¯¡­*sip*¡­ Makes your tongue go a bit numb¡­¡± I explain, my eyes fixed on the side of her face as she looks North to the starry horizon. ¡°Well¡­ just the taste has already woken me up, never mind whatever it does to me later(!)¡± she chuckles. ¡°Mmm!¡± I agree. We sit in silence for a while, me just watching her as she sips from her bowl. Eventually, she turns her face to me and flatly asks ¡°What?¡± I manage to restrain myself from telling her I was just captivated by her beauty (not the time to initiate a conversation like that¡­ even if she¡¯d probably think I was just joking), instead saying ¡°I¡¯m¡­ We¡¯re worried about you, Bwey!¡­ I just wanted to check you were doing alright¡­?¡± She gives a shivering chuckle (that I don¡¯t think can be blamed on the cold) and answers ¡°Am I doing alright?¡­ Well, let¡¯s assess, shall we(?) My brother is missing and might be dead, I don¡¯t think the paleskins actually murdered him but I¡¯m still not sure, even if I knew for certain that they didn¡¯t¡­ proving that to our people would be another matter, we¡¯re stuck up here a year¡¯s travel from a home we can¡¯t go back to, we¡¯ve got four Moons of bleak, desolate, ashy water on the soil and freezing cold temperatures before Spring comes and it¡¯s up to me to hold things together until Ksem gets back¡­ if he gets back at all!¡­ So no¡­ I¡¯d say I¡¯m actually pretty far from ¡®alright¡¯, Tsatsa!¡± almost in tears by the end. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. I reach out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder and say ¡°Boss¡­ I get that it¡¯s overwhelming¡­ I can¡¯t imagine what you¡¯re going through right now but¡­ I don¡¯t know if isolating yourself like you have been is the best thing for you?¡± She half sobs half chuckles and gestures out at the landscape below us to say ¡°You¡¯re probably right¡­ Guess some part of me is still just hoping that he¡¯s going to walk out of the woods down there with that grumpy girl and explain that they got lost(!) Hoping that we can walk back to the plains with me teasing him about that and him teasing me about my overreaction(!)¡­ I know it¡¯s stupid¡­¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s ever stupid to hope¡­ I don¡¯t think there¡¯s much chance they managed to spend more than half a Moon lost inside the Basin (when it¡¯s all so well marked and the girl¡¯s lived here her whole life) but I¡¯m sure they¡¯re alive and I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll see your brother again by Spring at the latest!¡± She turns her face to me and gives a sad smile, saying ¡°Thanks, Tsatsa¡­ I think I needed to hear that¡­¡± Ignoring my screaming selfcontrol, I place my bowl down on the log at my right hip and turn back to the beautiful woman, opening my arms to invite a cuddle. She hesitates for a heartstopping moment before giggling, placing down her own drink on her left, scooting closer and embracing me. I pat her back, trying very hard to ignore how intoxicatingly amazing she smells as I hold her warm, slender body in my arms. She needs a friend more than anything else right now. So do I¡­ Over the course of less than a Moon last year, the strikingly exotic face I¡¯d always been proud of suddenly became a curse! After my mother¡¯s people slaughtered their way through our homeland, I found myself with very few friends among our people¡­ I can¡¯t jeopardise my best remaining friendship over a crush I¡¯m almost certain won¡¯t be returned¡­ She begins pulling away and, even though every fibre of my being cries out for me not to let her, I release my arms. She withdraws her head from my shoulder but then¡­ stops¡­ She brings her face close enough to mine that I can feel her foggy breath against my mouth, she just stares at me¡­ her beautiful brown eyes searching my black ones for several heartbeats while I sit, frozen in fear. All at once, her lips meet mine in a way that, very quickly, becomes obvious was not an accident. Her lips burn as they wrestle with mine, her hands scorching my body wherever they contact and her smell filling my nose. As she pulls my entire body close in to her, I become aware that we¡¯re both standing¡­ though I don¡¯t remember the decision to get off the log? Her eyes are closed as she kisses me but mine are wide open, watching her¡­ I¡¯m still feverishly trying to work out if I might have misunderstood the situation somehow, if I might be dreaming¡­ because the alternative is that Bwey, daughter of Tses, is kissing and embracing me like a lover right now! Finally, our lips part, she tilts her forehead to rest it against mine and, eyes still closed, breathes ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tsatsa¡­ I shouldn¡¯t¡¯ve sprung that on you like that¡­ I just couldn¡¯t help myself¡­ I needed the comfort¡­¡± Also out of breath, I answer ¡°It¡¯s¡­err¡­ it¡¯s no problem, boss¡­ If you¡­uhm¡­ ever need more comfort, I¡¯ll be happy to provide it(!)¡± trying to sound suave and confident but completely betrayed by the unsurety of my tone! She giggles and draws back up to a height that puts my eyes just below the level of her lips as she smiles ¡°You better be sure, Tsatsa(!) I¡¯ll hold you to that(!)¡± I give an emphatic nod and the wonderful woman squeezes me closer to her, kissing my forehead while my heart pounds at double speed in my chest! She draws up her hand to run her fingernails over the shaven side of my head over my right ear and smiles, leaning down to whisper in my left ¡°I think more ¡®comfort¡¯ than this will have to wait for a night when we have a little more privacy(!)¡± flicking her eyes back in the direction of the paleskin¡¯s wayside shelter we¡¯re camped at. The tiny disappointment I feel at the delay is utterly engulfed by the overwhelming joy of learning my unrequited crush is not as unrequited as I thought! I nod, swallowing hard. She releases me from the embrace but catches my left hand, holding it in her right as we sit back down on the log. I pick my brew back up and take another sip (much as I don¡¯t actually need any more stimulation right now(!)) She does the same, still squeezing my hand in hers between us. Eventually, she lets out a breathy chuckle and says ¡°You know what, Tsatsa?¡­ I¡¯m sure there¡¯s nothing to worry about¡­ Ksem¡¯s about the cleverest person I know and that girl he¡¯s with (despite her grumpy personality(!)) seems like a more or less ideal survival partner to make up his shortfalls! I bet they¡¯re doing just fine right now!¡± ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- I grasp my spear tightly in both hands, turning back and forth to make sure it¡¯s always pointed at whichever of the monsters comes nearest to us in this whipping snow. The glow from the embers of our charcoal fire reflects off of nine pairs of eyes over nines sets of sharp, bonecrushing teeth. The one I¡¯ve already struck lies wheezing and dying on the snow as the others circle us, calling out with cruel, mocking laughter! In the corner of my eye, I see one start to charge me on my left, only for a *fwoom* to come from behind my head and for a sickeningly wet *thuck* to sound as the beast falls to the ground. Their laughter raises in intensity as the hyenas close in around us. I scream as my spear thrusts forward! Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Twenty Six ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- ¡°Father!¡± I scream, wading into the river, desperately trying to get to the far bank! Without turning around to see, I know that the women, the children and the other young men are running away behind me. I know that every heartbeat I spend trying to get back across makes me less likely to escape with them¡­ I don¡¯t care! I can see where my father stands on the sandy bank, Old Red at his side and all my people¡¯s elder men behind him¡­ I need to reach them! I must! Maybe if I¡¯m with them, it¡¯ll be different this time! My feet leave the ground as the water gets too deep for me to wade, forcing me to swim. Over the hill, tens of thousands of Westmen appear. Their black pupils are expanded to cover the whole of their eyes, making them look like those of cobras. Their sharpened teeth don¡¯t look the way I remember, they look like those of hyenas! 10,368 slingers step forward from their ranks, launching their stones into the sky, blocking out the stars before raining down around my people¡¯s men like a deadly hail! The stones hit my people and several fall dead. Many fall around me with two striking me in the legs and one in the shoulder! I ignore the pain and keep swimming. The Westmen drop to all fours and charge forward, closing in around my people like a knot! My father and the other archers begin loosing arrows at a greater speed than I¡¯ve ever seen before! Hundreds of the bestial men fall¡­ Thousands more heedlessly charge forward over the lifeless bodies of their kin¡­ My own bow and arrows appear in my hands and I desperately begin shooting from the water, kicking my feet beneath me to try to lift my arms clear of the surface. My arrows fly with the same limp weakness that they did when I started learning as a child. I see one skip off the neck of a screaming Westman¡­ He doesn¡¯t even seem to notice! My people¡¯s spearmen come forward, crouched low to let the archers shoot over their heads. The monstrosities clash against their shields, scrambling to rip, to tear, to kill! I see Old Red, fighting with the strength of three men against twelve of the enemy, all intent on reaching my father! I try to aim my bow at them but the chaos is such that I don¡¯t have a clear shot! I scream as I watch the redheaded man fall before the monsters! Four of them grab my father and pull him down to the ground! I¡¯m still desperately thrashing to reach him but something grabs a hold of my ankles¡­ No! Stop it! I don¡¯t want to have to deal with you! Just let me get to my father!!! The uncaring grip just tightens against my attempts to kick it off, dragging me down beneath the water. I take one last gasp of air before I¡¯m pulled under, quickly losing sight of the battle on the bank. ¡°Ksem¡­?¡± comes a distant voice, echoing through the water. Ignoring it, I draw my knife and twist my body to face down at the creature that has hold of me. ¡°Kseeem¡­¡± echoes the warm voice that sounds like home¡­ I stab at the shadow shape below and¡­ ¡°OUTLANDER!¡± screams the voice, ripping away both the water and the night. I jerk awake, panting hard, my heart roaring in my chest! I don¡¯t know where I am, just that the figure standing over me has torn me away from a death by drowning. My breaths fast, choking and shallow, I look up at the stocky silhouette, framed by the light of the rising Sun behind her. ¡°It¡¯s morning¡­¡± comes Raala¡¯s voice ¡°¡­we need to move¡­¡± A few raced heartbeats pass before my mind clears and I remember my situation. My father, Old Red and every other old man of my people died last year. I¡¯m not fleeing the Delta, I¡¯m between the Basin and the Great River of the North. I¡¯m travelling with Raala. We fought hyenas last night. I had a nightmare just now. I keep reminding myself of everything that¡¯s real until my heart slows and my breathing steadies¡­ then speak ¡°Alright, Raala¡­ I¡¯m up.¡± lifting myself to stand. Confused, she frowns ¡°How¡­? How did you do that?¡± This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Do what?¡± I ask, taking the tarp from her hands and starting to fold it. ¡°You had a nightmare! I could see you were panicking when I woke you up¡­ and now you¡¯re just¡­ fine!? No one consoled you and you just¡­ got over it? So quickly?!¡± ¡°Oh! That!¡± I chuckle ¡°Yeah¡­ consoling myself after nightmares is a thing I can do.¡± ¡°Can¡­ all your people console themselves like that?¡± she asks, suspiciously. ¡°No¡­ just me¡­ as far as I know at least¡­ but I don¡¯t think any of the others will have had cause to learn.¡± I smile, opening the charcoal basket to tuck the tarp in. ¡°Why did you need to learn?¡± she asks, watching me gather my things. ¡°My people¡¯s leaders sleep alone¡­ When my elder brother died and I became first in line, my father moved me to a single person tent so I could get used to it.¡± I shrug. ¡°And how old were you when that happened?¡± she asks, unable to keep the dismay off her face and out of her voice. ¡°Twelve.¡± I answer, simply, standing up, ready to go. ¡°Making a twelve year old sleep alone seems needlessly cruel!¡± she observes, disgustedly. ¡°Yeah¡­ I would¡¯ve agreed with you at the time(!)¡± I smile, looking around at the four hyena corpses that surround our ruined snow shelter ¡°I eventually saw the logic in it though¡­ I was very glad he¡¯d done it last Autumn¡­ after he died.¡± ¡°And what¡¯s the logic?¡± she sneers. ¡°Well¡­ when he was dead and I was taking over for him, that really would not have been the moment to be learning how to sleep alone for the first time in my life, now would it(!)¡± I chuckle. ¡°So¡­?¡± she says, mind working ¡°¡­what? You¡¯re just doomed to spend the rest of your life sleeping alone then?¡± horror at that latter. I shake my head ¡°No¡­ If I ever have a woman and children, they¡¯ll sleep in the Main Tent with me.¡± Her eyes go wide and her cheeks blanch as she looks from the destroyed snow shelter we both slept in last night and starts ¡°Wait! So¡­?!¡± ¡°Nooooo, Raala¡­¡± I reassure her with an exasperated smile ¡°¡­us having spent three quarters of a Moon sleeping alone together does not make you my woman in my eyes (or my people¡¯s) any more than me once having seen you naked does(!)¡­ If my people have any tradition that could join two people as lovers against either of their wills, it¡¯s a tradition I¡¯m yet unaware of(!)¡± Her face falls into a mixture of relief and disappointment at not getting more of an opportunity to rail at all the ways she considers Delta customs to be inferior to Basin customs(!) ¡°Of course, if you so badly wanted to actually become my woman, you could always try asking, Sunbeam(?)¡± I tease, smirking. A scowl twists her features and a crimson blush stains her pale cheeks as she gives a grumbling snarl in answer. Still smiling at her reaction, I point to the satchel that¡¯s hung from her right shoulder and suggest ¡°You wanna give me some breakfast before we go?¡± Still scowling, she wordlessly turns and lifts up the flap for me. I reach in and (doing my best to ignore the way the side of my hand contacts the side of her body through the leather) scoop out a handful of dried berries. Popping the first one into my mouth, I begin walking East. ¡°Hey! Where are you going!?¡± demands the outraged girl behind me. I turn back to see her right arm pointed at the horizon over the surreally flat, white landscape. ¡°You¡¯re friends are South, aren¡¯t they!?¡± she accuses. I lift my left forefinger to point at the ground ahead of me and explain ¡°Yes, they are¡­ but that hyena I put three arrows in last night ran off this way¡­ I wasn¡¯t about to pursue it in the dark but I¡¯d prefer to get them back if possible¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you have more arrows?!?!?!¡± ¡°I do¡­ but I won¡¯t for long if I keep giving them away(!)¡± She looks unconvinced. ¡°Of course, if you don¡¯t want to come, you could always wait here and guard the bags? I can go, you can rest and we can set off South when I get back?¡± I suggest, pointing to the charcoal basket and raising my eyebrows. Looking South, her face twists through about twenty four distinct scowls in the space of eight heartbeats as she agonises over the choice. She finally decides and begins walking in my direction, eyes downward. ¡°Safer if we stay together¡­¡± she mutters as she passes me. I smile and pop another berry in my mouth as I start walking alongside her through the snow. ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- My mind is far more on the unease I feel about what happened when I woke him up this morning than the blood spotted trail we¡¯re following or the lump on the horizon we¡¯ve been drawing closer to, since it became visible a few hundred breaths ago. I was a moment away from bending down to pat his back and tell him it was all alright, that it wasn¡¯t real, that it was over¡­ when he just¡­ stood up! Suddenly fine! Why am I so¡­ disappointed? No, no! That¡¯s not disappointment! I¡¯m just¡­ I was¡­ unnerved! Yes! That¡¯s it! It was unnerving to watch a man just immediately recover from a nightmare that bad and it was doubly unnerving to find out how he could do that! Why the Maw do they hate their leaders so much that they punish them by making them sleep alone until they find a woman!? Oh? Is it maybe to make them want to find a woman quicker, perhaps? That would make sense; they decide who their next leader is by blood instead of merit, so punishing single leaders with lonely sleep may be how they make sure they have heirs quickly? Although, if that¡¯s the case, hasn¡¯t worked on him, has it(!) He¡¯s my age and still single! Maybe his charm is less effective on everyone else than I assumed(?) Too bad I know what he¡¯d say if I suggested that to him!¡­ ¡®Or perhaps it¡¯s just that I¡¯d never met the right woman(?)¡¯ while looking pointedly at me in a way that leaves the ¡®until now¡¯ unspoken! My cheeks burn against the freezing air just thinking about it and I feel an irrational flash of anger at the tall man for the tease I just imagined him making! As the hyena¡¯s corpse draws near enough to start making out its details more clearly, Ksem lets out a groaned ¡°Ooooh! Oh nooooo!¡± breaking into a dash that I match in a medium jog. Falling to his knees next to the slain monster, he places one palm against its side and the other on top of its head, his face dismayed. ¡°No! Please! I¡¯m so sorry!!!¡± he babbles. Confused as to what he¡¯s sorry for (and to who) I look to the side of the carcass where I can see two fully intact arrow shafts protruding, the third visible over its back. Then I notice the movement. Very weakly, the monster¡¯s chest is expanding and contracting with breath¡­ It¡¯s still alive! He sheds the charcoal basket, stands and holds his long fingered hand to me. ¡°Lend me your spear?¡± ¡°What!? No! Why?!¡± I object, clutching protectively onto the weapon made with the shaft he brought me and the head he knapped me back in that cave. It had its first taste of blood last night and proved itself more than worth the wood and flint! He turns his head to me, expression serious, and says ¡°I need to put it out of its misery.¡± ¡°What does it matter?!¡± I demand, incredulously ¡°It¡¯ll be dead by noon anyway! Just get your arrows and lets go!¡± ¡°If it will be dead by noon, that¡¯s a few thousand breaths of suffering I can spare it.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a monster!¡± I point out ¡°It wanted to kill us!!!¡± ¡°No it didn¡¯t, Raala¡­¡± he corrects, sombrely ¡°¡­it wanted to eat¡­ it wanted to live¡­ If those are sins, we¡¯re all guilty!¡­ How many animals have you killed in your life? How many have you tried and failed to kill? How many of them do you think consider you a monster?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve killed enough not to expect any of my prey to mercy kill me if I were lying in their way dying!¡± I assert. ¡°Yes, well¡­ I¡¯d say that¡¯s one of the things that makes us people¡­ the ability to see ourselves in others. The wish not to see them suffer as we would not wish ourselves to suffer. The ability to think in terms of ¡®mercy¡¯¡­ Now, are you lending me your spear or not?¡­ I would use my knife but I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s not long enough to reach the heart¡­¡± I hesitate, scowl and sigh¡­ before twirling my weapon and wordlessly extending the handle to him. ¡°Thank you.¡± he says, taking it. He grips the shaft in both hands and points the flint tip downward, lining up the jagged wings to run away from his body, parallel with the ribs and rib gaps of the dying animal, directing it at its heart. The spear is raised up¡­ then thrust down¡­ Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Twenty Seven ---Ksem¡¯s perspective--- ¡°Yes, we had them in my homeland too¡­ but ours were a little different from yours.¡± I explain, approaching the edge of a forest which (I¡¯m hoping) marks the river channel. ¡°Different how?¡± Raala grumbles. ¡°Well, for one thing, our mammoths had no hair anywhere on their bodies except their eyelashes and a brush on the ends of their tails. Just rough, bluish grey skin everywhere else.¡± ¡°You mean like a longtusk?¡± she asks. ¡°I mean¡­¡± I consider ¡°¡­I¡¯ve only ever seen a longtusk once but the one I saw had more fur than our mammoths¡­ Ours weren¡¯t anywhere near as big as a longtusk either. They looked smaller than yours but I¡¯m not sure how much of that is from yours having poofy hair(!)¡­ Their ears were also bigger, their heads were a different shape and their tusks shorter¡­ other than that though, basically the same as yours¡­ We called them ¡®elephants¡¯.¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­¡± she grunts ¡°¡­what else did you have down in the South?¡± ¡°Oh, we had our own versions of lots of animals you¡¯d recognise¡­ even if they looked a bit different from the ones you know! We had ibex, hyenas, asses (though our asses had black and white stripes), rhinos, lions, aurochs¡­ No horses, deer or elk but we did have things like deer called ¡®antelope¡¯¡­ kinda like saigas, just without that little trunk saigas have!¡± I chuckle. ¡°And¡­ were all of them naked? Like the mammoths?¡± ¡°Uhm¡­ no¡­ The rhinos were but the rest all had fur¡­ Actually, one really interesting difference between your lions and ours is that, in the Delta, male lions had great big shaggy manes!¡­ Some of my people were very confused when we first came North because they couldn¡¯t work out why they were only seeing female lions¡­(!)¡± ¡°Manes like horses?¡± she queries. ¡°Not like horses, no¡­ More like a head of hair on a person really¡­ just going all the way around the bottom of the neck¡­ I don¡¯t know about your people but, among mine, there¡¯s a fairly persistent myth that male lions don¡¯t hunt! They just make their females bring them food while they laze around!¡­ The reality is that male lions hunt at night and sleep in the day and any claim to the contrary is simply slander against their good name(!)¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­ You had any animals I wouldn¡¯t know down there?¡± she asks with a tone that¡¯s about as curious as I¡¯ve ever heard her use¡­ even if it would still sound truculent and dismissive on anyone else! ¡°Yes! Many!¡± I answer, enthusiastically ¡°In the rivers we had hippos and crocodiles.¡± ¡°And they are?¡± ¡°Hippos are like¡­ erm¡­ imagine a rhino with no fur, no horn and a big, fat, wide head¡­ Giant teeth inside fleshy lips¡­ Mean temper!¡­ Crocodiles are big lizards with thick, bumpy scales and long jaws full of sharp teeth¡­ They jump out of the water to drag you back down and eat you.¡± She frowns, alarmed, and asks ¡°And¡­ they¡¯re real? They actually exist, these ¡®crocodiles¡¯? They¡¯re not just something you tell small children to keep them away from the water until they can swim?¡± ¡°Oh, yes¡­ very real! We always needed to be careful when fetching water in case there was one hiding there¡­ waiting for us!¡± I chuckle, remembering Old Red¡¯s alarm when he saw a crocodile drag down an antelope for the first time. Obviously still sceptical, she prompts ¡°And¡­ what else?¡± ¡°Well, on land we had these things called giraffes¡­ If you imagine a horse but give it legs longer than I am tall, a neck about the same length, make it twice my height at the shoulder and three times my height at the top of its head, stick a couple of stubby horns between its ears and give it a crazy pattern all over its body which-¡± ¡°Waitwaitwaitwait¡­ Three times your height?!¡± she interrupts, disbelieving. ¡°Yup!¡± I smile. ¡°That would make them taller than a longtusk!¡± ¡°I¡¯d say so, yes.¡± ¡°Nothing¡¯s that tall!¡± she scoffs. ¡°If you say so, Sunbeam¡­¡± I beam. Sighing exasperatedly at the fight she just failed to pick with me, she scowls and looks away. Unperturbed, I continue ¡°Then there were monkeys and baboons¡­ Both had long tails and hands like ours on their arms and legs¡­ both could climb trees but the baboons tended to spend most of their time down on the ground. The baboons had long snouts but the monkeys had heads shaped much more like ours¡­ They¡¯re-¡± She throws out a hand to my midriff, stopping us both in our tracks and peering ahead through the trees. Alarm is spreading across her face as she examines what became visible to me about a dozen heartbeats ago. ¡°Is¡­ is that what I think it is?¡± she asks, pointing ahead. ¡°That depends¡­ If you think it¡¯s a very wide, frozen over river, I¡¯d say so(!)¡± ¡°Why¡¯s it so big!?¡± she asks¡­ seeming actually a little distressed by its enormity! You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. ¡°Well¡­ I believe it collects all the water from the entire Basin¡­ as well as all the steppe we just crossed¡­ as well as the North side of the mountains that stand South of here¡­ It¡¯s just a lot of land it collects water from.¡± I explain, calmly, doing my best not to patronise. While this girl is much less well travelled than I am, I know she¡¯s not at all stupid! She begins walking towards it without a word. I take the cue to shut up about my homeland¡¯s fauna and just let her have her moment of stunned awe as she walks through the forest to the river. She trudges out from the trees across the snow covered beach and stops beside the edge. She waves a hand over the wide channel filled with black ice and quietly asks ¡°Is it at least shallow?¡± ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t think so, Raala, no.¡± I answer as kindly as I can¡­ trying not to enjoy the role reversal of my first time crossing frozen water too much(!) She steps out onto the ice, admiring the view across what¡¯s almost certainly the widest water she¡¯s ever seen in her life as I admire the view of her. Finally, she turns to me and asks ¡°Do you recognise where we are?¡± ¡°I¡­¡± I look around ¡°¡­don¡¯t think so¡­¡± Her previously awed face quickly regains its normal scowl as she chastises ¡°What do you mean you ¡®don¡¯t think so¡¯?!¡­ You¡¯re the one who¡¯s been here before! Do you recognise it or not!?¡± Calmly, I explain ¡°Yes, Raala¡­ I¡¯ve been to this river before but, if I¡¯ve ever walked this particular stretch of it, it was once, it was on the far bank, it was five or six Moons ago and there was no snow or ice so it looked completely different¡­ I¡¯m sorry if I¡¯ve disappointed you¡­¡± Her eyes narrow as she assesses whether it¡¯s at all reasonable to keep criticising me and, seeming to conclude that even she can¡¯t justify it, just asks ¡°So which way now then?!¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯d say¡­ since I don¡¯t recognise where we are, we should start by heading West, upstream¡­ Hopefully, we¡¯ll see the ochre daubed cairn that marks the mouth of their tributary soon¡­ If I start seeing features I recognise, we may need to backtrack¡­¡± She¡¯s clearly annoyed at the thought of that possibility. She points to the far side and asks ¡°And¡­ how do we get across? I¡¯m not sure I want to trust my weight to that span of ice with flowing water underneath it!¡± ¡°Oh, I certainly don¡¯t either!¡­ If I correctly recall, however, Speartooth keep boats on both the North and South banks of the river, at the cairn, for exactly this kind of situation¡­ I¡¯d suggest we find them, take one and push it across with us¡­ That way, if the ice starts cracking, we can just hop in the boat and float instead of going under and being swept away.¡± ¡°That would then leave us in the middle of the river, icebound, you realise?¡± she sneers. ¡°Icebound is better than drowned though, right? Us being on something that can float and keep us dry gives us a chance to think about our next move in exactly the way that going straight through the ice doesn¡¯t.¡± I point out, shrugging ¡°Of course, you¡¯re at liberty to try just walking across if you¡¯d prefer to take your chances¡­?¡± Grumbling at the fact that I¡¯ve made a good point (she hates it when that happens(!)) she pushes past me, walking along the edge of the water, heading West. ¡°After we get to this cairn¡­ how long?¡± she demands. ¡°Well¡­ that depends on when in the day we get there¡­ Get across first thing tomorrow morning and we should be there by the end of the day¡­ If we discover it partway through a day, we¡¯ll probably need to sleep once between there and their valley.¡± ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- Three days! It¡¯s taken us three days to get here since we hit the river! We walked all the rest of that day and all of the next before camping with the canoes, making the crossing early this morning (luckily, the ice held and we didn¡¯t need to actually get in) and spending the rest of the day walking here. Of course¡­ as impressive as it is that he was able to navigate us across a steppe he¡¯d never crossed before and only get a day and a bit off course, I¡¯ll never let him know it! His ego¡¯s big enough as it is! I will, however, make him aware when he get¡¯s back that his neurotic need for privacy while pissing and shitting is very tiresome! I can see the limestone cliffs he¡¯s been telling me about for most of a Moon now! These people are probably just a few hundred breath¡¯s walk away and- My hand darts to my spear as I hear a noise. It¡¯s not Ksem¡­ wrong direction, wrong gait¡­ I stand and hunch over in a ready posture, pointing my speartip around the bend where¡­ A woman appears and shrieks in surprise ¡°Oh!!!¡­*pant**pant*¡­ You startled me!¡± She¡¯s tall!¡­ My eyes are about level with her full lips. She has the longest, sleekest and straightest brown hair I¡¯ve ever seen on anyone!¡­ Even Kordau¡¯s had a bit more waviness to it! She has striking blue eyes that contain flecks of green. Her body is gorgeously plump and though it¡¯s difficult for me to tell through her frumpy dress, I¡¯d guess she¡¯s mostly fat, not muscle! She has the single most stunningly beautiful face I¡¯ve ever seen¡­ wonderfully clear skin, unblemished by disease and unlined by worry or anger. Despite her looking nearly my age, her cheeks are full of babyfat and her lips are so full you could use them as pillows! Putting down my spear on the rock I was sitting on since I see that, not only is she unarmed and making no move to fight, she¡¯s also not dressed particularly practically for it, I ask ¡°Who are you?¡± The mouthwateringly beautiful woman¡¯s face twists into a pouted smirk (in a way that reminds me of someone else I know) as she cocks her head to the side, bends down to bring her face level to mine, brings her hands behind her back and smugly points out ¡°I believe that¡¯s my question, silly(!)¡­ You see, this is Speartooth territory and I know you aren¡¯t a Speartooth because I¡¯m a Speartooth¡­ So, before I give you my name-¡± ¡°Lurla!¡± comes a happy, shouted voice from behind me. The stunning woman¡¯s attention immediately snaps above me as her face lights up. ¡°Ksem!¡± she squeals in delight. Faster than I would have given her credit for, she¡¯s whipped past me on my left. I turn in time to see her launching herself from the rock behind me to fly at the man who just reappeared. He manages to stay standing in the face of her impacting him in the chest. ¡°Leh ze ters!¡± she shrieks delightedly and incomprehensibly, standing on tiptoe to press her (more than ample) boobs into the bottom of his ribcage while pinning his arms to his sides ¡°Ksaet na wert, ters!¡± Beaming stupidly, he answers ¡°Etun ewatsi waretze, Lurla?!¡± ¡°Ewatsiru Tsazel¡­ Ksemarut!¡± she says, closing her eyes and pressing her face into his chest beneath his chin in a way that irritates me. I clear my throat and glare at the pair to alert them to the fact that I¡¯m still here. The girl doesn¡¯t seem to notice¡­ the idiot does. ¡°*ahem*¡­Well¡­ Lurla¡­ this is Raala¡­ Raala, Lurla.¡± the absolute cretin introduces, switching back to a language we can all understand as he extracts himself from the lovers¡¯ embrace. ¡°Charmed, Raala.¡± smiles the beautiful woman with the exact same infuriatingly easygoing selfconfidence as the man beside her. ¡°Mmm!¡± I grunt, not quite sure why I¡¯m suddenly seething with anger. Once again ignoring my presence, the man turns to the gorgeous girl and asks ¡°Lurla? Is Torgan here? Raala and I need his help¡­¡± Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Twenty Eight ---Torgan¡¯s perspective--- I pause, my fingers partway through lashing evergreen branches together to decorate the Solstice Festival tomorrow. That laugh I¡¯m hearing from outside the store chamber sounds¡­ very familiar? None of my clan laugh anything like that! It¡­ couldn¡¯t be who it sounds like¡­ could it? If it¡¯s someone doing an impression of him, it¡¯s both a very convincing one and a good sustained fake laugh. I put down the decorations and stand, making my way along the chisel marked wall to the doorway curtain. I push it aside to see that, indeed, the one doubled over in laughter and pointing at my woman¡¯s swollen belly is exactly who I thought it was! What¡¯s he doing back here!? I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d see him again (or anyone else from his tribe besides Tsazel) for years, if ever! My child isn¡¯t even born and he¡¯s already back!? Tsazel is performing a complicated set of bodylanguage and facial expressions¡­ but interpreting that kind of thing has never been a strength of mine. Behind the tallest man I¡¯ve ever met stands my cousin, her blue eyes fixed on him, and a somewhat short, rather strong looking woman I don¡¯t know. Judging by the dark red colour of her hair and the features of her face, my guess is that she isn¡¯t from anywhere near here. I take a step forward and Ksem whips around, his brown eyes fixing on me beneath his tall, flat, brown skinned forehead and an unnerving smile twisting his lips above his chin prong. ¡°You¡¯re back¡­¡± I say, stupidly. ¡°I¡¯m back, Torgan¡­ I¡¯m back and you are a wolf!!!¡± he laughs, striding towards me in his people¡¯s odd gait and gesturing to my woman ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just say, Torgan? Why didn¡¯t you just tell us you were already her man!? It would¡¯ve made the argument about whether Kseley could stop you taking her back here null and void!¡± He stops an armlength away and places his left hand on my right shoulder, rapping his right four fingernails against my left as he leans his weight on me, doubling over in hysterics. ¡°I¡­ uhm¡­ I¡­ err¡­ I didn¡¯t know I¡¯d already got her pregnant¡­ She hadn¡¯t told me then¡­¡± I answer, honestly. He straightens back up, looking at me through narrowed eyes with a twisted smile, and says ¡°You sure it wasn¡¯t because you were worried Kseley would curse you if she found out(?)¡± My stomach drops as I look around for the witch and, terrified, ask ¡°She¡¯s not here, is she!?¡± remembering the threat she made when we parted ways. I¡¯ve technically kept up my end of the bargain but¡­ that might not matter to her if she¡¯s angry enough! The tall man shakes his face and smiles ¡°No, Torgan, she¡¯s not here¡­ aaaaand I can play dumb about just how far along Tsazel is when I let her know if you like(!)¡­ It¡¯s just me and Raala, my friend over there.¡± ¡°Not your friend, arsehole!¡± objects the strangely accented woman I don¡¯t recognise in a manner that I¡¯m pretty certain is genuine irritation, not a humorous pretence of it. ¡°What are you doing back here then?¡± I ask, deeply confused by why this man would be so far from the multitude he leads and only in the company of this one woman. The smile drops from his face as he says ¡°Well my friend¡­ we¡¯re going through a bit of an ordeal right now. We came here to ask for your help¡­ May we come inside?¡± Shaken, I reply ¡°Y-yes! Of course!¡­ Please come in and tell me your troubles.¡± ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- The awkward, reticent man sits on the floor of a sleeping cave which, judging by the toolmarks etched into every part of every surface, was either entirely carved into this cliffbase by his clan or, at the very least, significantly expanded by them. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. A lot more work than just building a freestanding hut but the advantage is that your hundred-greats-grandchildren can still enjoy the home you carved. Huts have to be knocked down and rebuilt every few decades. The man shares the same fiery orange hair as everyone South of the great River seem to have and, from the backs of his hands, I¡¯d guess it covers his whole body quite thickly. It might be my imagination but all of his people look taller than Basinfolk typically are¡­ He¡¯s only a little shorter than Wuurlo and that irritating, cheery, sexy brunette girl wouldn¡¯t be an unusual height for an outland woman! His hooded eyes make his face look sad no matter what expression he makes. Right now though, I think the sadness is real¡­ and that¡¯s not good news! ¡°You¡­¡± he agonises, looking at Ksem ¡°¡­are a friend, Ksem¡­ a friend to my people, a friend to me but ¡­ it¡¯s as your friend that I must tell you; what you propose is ill advised.¡± My heart sinks as I realise that the prospect of a guide to make our journey a little less ¡®ill advised¡¯ is not happening. It¡¯s just going to be me and Ksem the whole way! Huh¡­ My spirits just lifted back up for no reason?¡­ Strange¡­ Continuing, the deep voiced man says ¡°I know you understand how dangerous it is to travel in Winter, Ksem. You told me yourself that you and your people overwintered in those grottoes near the sea rather than continuing to travel last year¡­ and that was in a land without snow or ice! In Winter days are shorter, air is colder, food is scarcer and predators are hungrier¡­ Honestly, you¡¯re lucky to have made it across the Northern steppe in one piece! You should thank the Great Elk for leading you away from the clan of crazed murderers I hear live out there!¡­ Why don¡¯t the two of you just stay here until Spring? I¡¯ll happily walk you back to the Rift as soon as it¡¯s safer to travel?¡± Ksem gives a resigned nod and smiles ¡°I know, Torgan, I know¡­ Under normal circumstances, I would absolutely agree! I would advise exactly what you¡¯re advising right now; ¡®it¡¯s not worth the risk¡¯, ¡®getting there soon is less important than getting there alive¡¯, ¡®just find a safe spot to hunker down until conditions are better¡¯ etc. Unfortunately, there are other considerations that override the risks to our safety¡­ For¡­ reasons I won¡¯t go into, the situation between Raala¡¯s people and mine was a little¡­ fraught when we became stranded¡­ My Banehood would have been a good thing to reconcile us but, as my people may well now see it, I went into the territory of the six clans and then just¡­ didn¡¯t come back!¡­ We need to return as soon as possible to set the record straight before anyone does anything reckless and irreversible!¡± ¡°And we¡¯ve just wasted half a Moon heading here instead of straight to the Rift.¡± I add, bitterly. ¡°Indeed.¡± Ksem acknowledges before turning his attention back to the one declining to guide us ¡°I won¡¯t try to convince you, Torgan¡­ I know it would be unfair of me to make you risk your life for our sake when it isn¡¯t just yourself you need to consider anymore¡­¡± gesturing his countrywoman whose swollen belly looks very weird on her skinny frame ¡°¡­If I could just request hospitality for the night and perhaps some previsions for the trail? Then we¡¯ll be on our way tomorrow morning. It¡¯s probably best if we aren¡¯t here for the party tomorrow night¡­ we¡¯d be too tired the next day to make good progress.¡± I catch sight of the blue eyed brunette looking crestfallen in the corner of my eye and feel a completely disproportionate amount of anger at that. Then, the pregnant woman raises a palm and, her speech thickly accented, says ¡°Wait¡­?¡± Every face in the cavern turns to her. ¡°¡­how you sleep, coming here?¡± ¡°Three walled snow shelters made every day, leather tarp roof, cloaks for bedding.¡± Frowning, the woman switches to her mothertongue to clarify something. Ksem answers her, incomprehensible to me. ¡°Show me ¡®tarp¡¯.¡± she says, holding out a hand. Wordlessly, Ksem stands and makes his way over to the willow basket, opens it up, pulls out the folded, weatherproofed leather and dusts off the charcoal powder before handing it to her. She unfolds it, her face twisting in dismay before she asks ¡°This and snow!? Not good! Can¡¯t keep like that!¡± ¡°I mean¡­ it¡¯s not luxurious but-¡± he starts but she cuts him off. ¡°It danger, Ksem!¡­ Give this me. Make you tent. Space and fire for in it¡­ Five days.¡± she says, decisively. ¡°Tsazel, I-¡± ¡°Five days would also be enough time for me to make you a sledge?¡± suggests the orange beard, looking at the ground pensively ¡°Or finish making it anyway. I¡¯ve got one I¡¯m most of the way done with that was intended as a spare¡­ Your need is greater¡­ You could carry a lot more that way than on your backs? That would improve your chances of not dying¡­¡± Unusually uncertain, Ksem looks at me. ¡°Raala? What do you think?¡± Every eye in the room turns to me. I think. It feels like, ever since the collapse, it¡¯s just been Due after Due we¡¯ve had to pay in time(!) First my foot had to heal, then we had to take this fruitless detour for help, then we had to spend days with the Hyenas while Ksem worked for our provisions¡­ and now¡­ It seems like the entire world is conspiring to keep us out here for the rest of our lives! On the other hand, a sledge would significantly decrease the work of carrying our stuff? A tent would also be a lot more comfortable and easier to set up than what we have been doing? We might actually make better time overall losing the five days here in order to have more time and energy each day to travel? Even if this guide won¡¯t come with us, he and his clan still clearly want to help and it would be a bit of a shame to throw their charity back in their faces¡­ I sigh internally before answering ¡°Let¡¯s do it¡­ Thank you guys. A tent and a sledge sound amazing!¡± ¡°Good good!¡± beams the pregnant woman, clapping her long fingered hands together once with a very ¡®that¡¯s settled then¡¯ demeanour ¡°I make tent, TorTor make sledge, two you stay tomorrow party¡­ While you here, Raala help everything and Ksem¡­ you teach bows¡­ I try teach but not archer, not good(!)¡± Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Twenty Nine ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- Leaning against the limestone cliff at the edge of the party, I watch the clan of (variously intoxicated) orange haired Southerners eating, drinking, dancing, singing and fluting along to the drums around the large bonfire. Over our heads hang long strings of evergreen branches, carved wood and bone decorations. Being the tallest two here, the lanky outlanders¡¯ silhouettes utterly dominate the rest whenever they stand. Right now, I¡¯m watching Ksem¡¯s shadow dance with that of the sexy brunette against the light of the flames. Something about that girl absolutely makes my blood boil and I just don¡¯t know what! Obviously, she has the exact same smug, relaxed, Wolf-may-care attitude as Ksem does but¡­ it¡¯s more than that¡­ She somehow makes me even angrier than I get at him and, yet, she hasn¡¯t actually done a damn thing to justify that anger! I was watching her like a hawk while we set up the party together¡­ I was looking for anything she did that would prove her to be the despicable bitch my instincts keep screaming at me she is! If she¡¯d as much as sneered for a tenth of a breath today, I¡¯d¡¯ve noticed! I¡¯d¡¯ve shouted ¡®Ah-ha! I kneeew it!!!¡¯ in my mind! She gave me nothing¡­ Nothing at all! She¡¯s been unflappably kind and reasonable with me (as well as everyone else she¡¯s interacted with) all day and, other than being a bit irritatingly saccharine, she¡¯s done absolutely nothing offensive¡­ and still, as she sways and wiggles her perfect, tall, fat, shapely body close to my travelling companion, my burning, irrational fury at her absolutely refuses to be extinguished! The words that greying, clay bearded, smashed nosed patriarch spoke to me before stealing food from my hand keep echoing in my mind ¡®That¡¯s life, girl! You find something you value, you need to be willing to protect it! Otherwise, someone else might just take it from you!¡¯ but I can¡¯t work out what relevance they have to this situation! What is it of mine that this girl might be threatening to take from me exactly? She¡¯s shown basically no interest in anything but Ksem since I met her¡­ and it¡¯s not like he¡¯s something I value! The drum beat ceases and everyone sits to recover for a few tens of breaths. I watch as, unlike after all the other dances, the maddening brunette excuses herself and begins walking away from where Ksem sits¡­ to where I am¡­ I groan as the girl¡¯s blue eyes lock onto me and signal that she¡¯s not coming this way by coincidence. She gets close enough to give me a good view of the gorgeously zaftig rolls of fat that line her bare flanks, the jiggle of her upper arms and one visible thigh, the slice of her cleavage I can see through the laces of her peekaboob top and the suggestive blush of her cheeks and sheen of her skin from dancing by the hot fire with my companion¡­ ¡°Hey¡­¡± she greets in her exciting, exotically accented voice, smiling at me with all the warmth and kindness in the world, only making me hate her stupid sexy face more than I already did ¡°¡­you alright there, girl?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± I state, simply. ¡°Really?¡± she asks, cocking her gorgeous face in curiosity ¡°Because there¡¯s being a wallflower and then there¡¯s whatever this is(!)¡± gesturing to where I¡¯ve been leant since the party started ¡°You realise there¡¯s only one Winter Solstice a year, right(?)¡­ Meant to be a time to cut loose a bit!¡± ¡°Some of us have shit on our minds¡­¡± I reply, curtly. ¡°Oh, of course! Obviously, you¡¯re going through a lot¡­ but I¡¯d say that¡¯s all the more reason to enjoy yourself while you can, right? No use letting the knowledge that you¡¯ll need to suffer again soon ruin the fun you could be having now, is there?¡± ¡°You¡¯re as carefree as Ksem is, I see(!)¡± I sneer. ¡°Thank you¡­¡± she giggles at the insult, dropping herself into a lean beside me in a way that gives me a heartfluttering waft of the sweet, floral, fruity smell of her sweat. Could she not¡¯ve at least had the decency to smell bad? Is there no way she won¡¯t show me up?! Does her shit smell of strawberries!?!?!? Looking across the forest of orange haired heads between us and where the black hair ropes of the back of the outlander¡¯s head are, she brings her sleek brown horsetail over her shoulder and runs it through the fingers of her right hand, fanning herself with her left. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Are youuuuu¡­?¡± she starts before trailing off. I wait for her to finish the question. Finally, I prompt ¡°Am I what?¡± impatiently. Still looking at my companion instead of me, she says ¡°Are you¡­ I mean¡­ I know you aren¡¯t his woman¡­ I know you aren¡¯t his intended¡­ but, are you¡­ interested in him?¡± ¡°No!¡± I state, immediately and emphatically. Turning to me with a raised eyebrow, she asks ¡°You¡¯re sure? Not even slightly?¡± ¡°What is there to be attracted to? He¡¯s a weird looking, lanky idiot!¡± She laughs out loud at that before answering ¡°OK, I¡¯ll give you ¡®lanky¡¯ (though tall and slim is definitely my type), I¡¯ll give you that he looks a bit strange¡­ but an idiot? Do you really believe that?¡­ You must¡¯ve been travelling with a different Ksem from the one over there because he¡¯s almost certainly the most intelligent man I¡¯ve ever met!¡± She looks to me for a response. I remain silent so she continues ¡°You know he speaks five languages fluently, right? You know it¡¯s his job to mediate all the conflicts and give all the overarching instructions to over four hundred people, don¡¯t you?! How he led them all the way here from a year¡¯s walk away and hardly lost any on the journey? You must¡¯ve seen some of the amazing things he knows how to do? Things he knows how to make!? You can¡¯t¡¯ve known him for three and a half Moons and spent nearly the last whole Moon alone with him without getting some inkling of his dazzling mind, can you?¡­ What on earth makes you call him an idiot?¡± I contemplate that. Ksem¡¯s never challenged me over my (not exactly flattering) assessment of his intelligence and I wasn¡¯t really prepared to need to justify it! ¡°I¡¯ve seen him do some really stupid things¡­¡± I scowl, finally. ¡°Like?¡± she invites. ¡°I told him we needed both torches to make it to the other side of the cave and, afterwards, he lit the second torch from the first so they were both lit at the same time. He asked me if I needed anything for my foot then needed me to tell him what sphagnum and willow were. He brought me obsidian when I specifically asked him for flint because he assumed obsidian was just better flint¡­!¡± ¡°Alright, so we¡¯ve established he¡¯s not infallible¡­(!) He can make mistakes, especially about things he doesn¡¯t have familiarity with from back in his homeland¡­ Did he ever make those mistakes again, after you¡¯d corrected him?¡± ¡°¡­no.¡± I concede, reluctantly. She smirks ¡°I¡¯d say that¡¯s real intelligence¡­ not never making mistakes but never making the same mistake twice!¡­ Anything else?¡± I try to think before coming up with ¡°He wouldn¡¯t tell me what the charcoal wood was for for a third of a Moon! Said it was a ¡®surprise¡¯(!)¡­ Scared me half to death when he seem to just start burning it all!¡± ¡°Yes, he¡¯s certainly got a flare for the dramatic(!)¡± smiles the gorgeous woman, looking over to where he sits talking with his countrywoman ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say that was stupid though¡­?¡± Irritably, I snap ¡°What about when he led his people to the Basin from half a world away and just cheerily assumed it¡¯d all be fine and we¡¯d all be best friends as soon as they arrived?! What about that stupid cheery grin he never wipes off his face!? That relentless optimism of his!? Isn¡¯t that stupid!?!?!?¡± She turns a patronising smile to me and says ¡°Ah¡­! I see¡­! You assume that anyone who wasn¡¯t na?ve would be a pessimist then? That anyone who understood the world would understand how miserable they ought to be about it? That only the ignorant are blissful?¡± I hesitate. She continues ¡°Don¡¯t you think there¡¯s some value in finding what joy you can, where you can? In not allowing the miseries of the past nor the expected miseries of the future to ruin the potential to be happy in the now? You think Ksem is na?ve to just what a cruel place the world can be?¡­ You don¡¯t think that he, perhaps, takes joy wherever he can find it exactly because he knows how precious it is?¡± Annoyed at quite how soundly she¡¯s just made a complete fool of me, I deflect ¡°Why are you even asking me this?! What does it matter!?¡± She smiles ¡°Oh¡­ well¡­ I just wanted to check that I wouldn¡¯t be treading on your toes if I throw my spear with him¡­?¡± Disbelieving, I ask ¡°So¡­ if I¡¯d said I was interested in him, you¡¯d¡¯ve¡­ what? Just backed off?!¡± She smiles ¡°Well¡­ I think that would¡¯ve depended on just how interested you were!¡­ If it was a fleeting fancy, I might¡¯ve tried to convince you to give me your blessing to confess to him¡­ If you¡¯d said you¡¯d rather die than live the rest of your life without him and I thought you were serious, I probably would¡¯ve backed off¡­ If you were somewhere in the middle, I might¡¯ve suggested we confess together and let him choose which of us he prefers (or maybe even suggested we could both be his women(!))¡± she winks her beautiful blue eyes and gives me a flirtatious nudge. I need to work very hard to stop my imagination running wild at that suggestion! ¡°Good thing you¡¯re not interested and I don¡¯t need to worry that I¡¯d be trespassing on your territory, though¡­ Definitely prefer the idea of having him all to myself.¡± ¡°Why¡­ err¡­ what do you find attractive about him?¡± I ask, not sure where this hollow pit in my stomach has come from. She smiles ¡°All the same stuff you find unattractive, it seems(!)¡­ To me, it¡¯s sexy as the Maw that he¡¯s so tall¡­ and his skinniness doesn¡¯t bother me in the slightest¡­ I absolutely loved that cute babyface of his but, I have to say, that beard does him even more favours!¡­ I love that he¡¯s dramatic, I love that he¡¯s optimistic, I love that he¡¯s adventurous, that he¡¯s brave, that he somehow perfectly balances smugness with humility, that he¡¯s patient, that he¡¯s charming, that he¡¯s intelligent¡­ but¡­ I think the thing I love most of all about him¡­ is his kindness¡­ I think that¡¯s the thing that lets me know his positivity isn¡¯t just from him being na?ve or sheltered¡­ just how kind he is to everyone¡­ He always treats others like exactly the friend they need at that moment. He wouldn¡¯t be that way unless he understood what it was like to need and not have kindness¡­ I want to have that kindness of his for the rest of my life¡­!¡± I look from the girl at my left to the boy by the fire, realising that they seem to have been made for eachother and threatening to be swallowed by the expanding abyss in my stomach! ¡°You¡­ Good luck¡­¡± I say, realising that it would be unforgivably selfish of me to say anything else¡­ She turns to me and sweetly smiles ¡°Thank you, Raala!¡± Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Thirty ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- The drums of the festival echo through the forest behind me as I trudge away through the cold night air. I¡¯ve never felt as alone as I did back there, surrounded by all those people I didn¡¯t know dancing and revelling with the only one I did, in this hearthstead that¡¯s the furthest away from my home I¡¯ve ever been¡­ I can¡¯t believe that girl (so utterly infatuated with Ksem as she is) had the sympathy necessary to come and check with me that I didn¡¯t mind her confessing to him! If she¡¯d come up to me and said ¡®Look, bitch! Ksem¡¯s gonna be my man so back the fuck off!¡¯ that would¡¯ve been just about in line with my irrational impression of her but no! ¡®I don¡¯t want to tread on your toes¡¯?! ¡®I would¡¯ve backed off if you¡¯d wanted him enough¡¯!? ¡®Maybe we could¡¯ve both been his women¡¯!?!?!? The fact that she was so fucking cool, calm and collected about it was somehow worse than if she¡¯d just slapped me in the face! That poly joke she made definitely didn¡¯t help calm me down either! My heart sinks as I imagine the nearly two Moons of travel I now have ahead of me being asked to sit outside the tent the outland woman is sewing us and listen to the amorous moans coming from within¡­ two Moons of being outvoted on everything because, of course, those relentlessly positive birds of a feather are going to agree on every issue¡­ of being the unlit torch on their honeymoon! The thought is absolutely sickening¡­ At least with three of us, we¡¯re slightly less likely to die on the journey¡­? Nope! Optimism doesn¡¯t suit me at all! Shouldn¡¯t¡¯ve tried it! Unbidden, the image of myself sat on an overturned sledge by a tent out in the wilderness swims into my mind. The door curtain is drawn aside. A pair of blue eyes and a pair of brown ones both fix on me from within. Five long, slim, brown skinned fingers extend on a slim wrist alongside five pale ones on a gorgeously fat wrist, beckoning me inside. I get up and¡­ ¡­CUT the fantasy off right the fuck there! As undeniably exciting and arousing as the prospect of becoming their third is, I can confidently and with all my heart proclaim that that is not what I want! At this point, I find a limestone tor blocking my way. I look up and see that the flat top looks like its exposure to sun and wind has kept the snow off of it. Glancing around, I spot a red pine that¡¯s growing so close that it should be simple enough to use to climb up. I make my way to the base of the trunk and quickly clamber to about four times my height from the ground before hopping over onto the top of the little plateau. With no forest canopy obstructing the view, I¡¯m able to lie down on the rough rock and watch the stars turning through the heavens overhead. The beauty of the glittering night sky above does help ease my mood slightly but¡­ that gaping chasm down in my guts is not gone! The main star belt, Mother Mammoth¡¯s Milk, has passed through about a twentieth of the span across the sky since I¡¯ve been watching when I hear voices approaching me from below. I try ignoring them at first but they keep drawing closer and closer. I¡¯m quickly able to make out just whose voices they are. The deep one is Ksem, the high one is Lurla! Of all the directions they could have gone, they really had to pick this one?! Did Lurla intentionally follow my tracks through the snow so she could do this in front of me!? I roll onto my belly and crawl to the edge of the tor, just enough to peek over it. They¡¯re approaching from a direction which would¡¯ve made tracking me here difficult¡­ Just a coincidence, not that that¡¯s going to make it hurt any less to watch! The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. I take a breath to call out to them to let Lurla know that this patch of forest is already occupied and her confession would be best done elsewhere but¡­ my voice catches in my throat¡­ After a full breath I haven¡¯t taken, I realise why I can¡¯t bring myself to call out to them: As much as I don¡¯t want to see this¡­ I am also morbidly fascinated by what might be about to happen in front of me! I won¡¯t get another chance if I announce myself! The two of them draw up to the base of the cliff, almost directly below and close enough that I can clearly make out every word as Ksem says ¡°Alright, Lurla, here I am¡­ What did you want to tell me?¡± Jealously, I watch the gorgeous woman as she looks back at the man I¡¯ve spent the best part of the last Moon completely alone with. She takes a deep breath and says ¡°I was really hoping that I¡¯d be good enough in Deltaspeak by the time I next saw you to say what I¡¯m about to say in your language but¡­ well¡­ I¡¯m not! I was planning to try and convince someone to chaperone me up to the Basin to find you next Summer so I could tell you this but, since you¡¯re here now, I can¡¯t let this opportunity go to waste!¡± ¡°Oh¡­ uhm¡­ alright?¡± says Ksem, curiously. Another audible inhale before the courageous girl appeals ¡°Take me with you, Ksem! When you go back to the Basin, back to your people, let me come with you!¡± ¡°What? Lurla, no! You heard Torgan tell us we shouldn¡¯t even be making this journey, right?! You remember me saying we wouldn¡¯t be if the risks of doing so weren¡¯t outweighed by the risks of not!? It¡¯s too dangerous a journey to risk your life on it for no reason! You are of course welcome as my people¡¯s guest anytime you can find us but-¡± ¡°I love you, Ksem!¡± she exclaims, fiercely ¡°I¡¯ve loved you since the day I met you! I let you get away once without telling you how I felt, I won¡¯t let it happen again!¡­ You¡¯re everything I want! Everything I¡¯ve ever wanted!¡­ Let me come with you up the river¡­ Let me spend the rest of my life trying to return the happiness you give me every moment I¡¯m with you¡­ Let me be your woman, Ksem ¡®Bear Bane¡¯ of the 144 Channels!¡­ Let me have you as my man!¡± Well, that¡¯s it! Not a gynophile alive who could resist a confession like that coming from a woman like this! I¡¯m wooed and I¡¯m not even the one it was directed at! That¡­ is an awfully long period of silence Ksem¡¯s left before giving his inevitable ¡®Yes! Yes! One thousand times, yes!¡¯, though? ¡°I¡­ see¡­¡± he says finally. What the fuck was that tone? He¡¯s going to start his life with this woman so tepidly!? ¡°¡­I¡¯m¡­ truly sorry, Lurla¡­ I¡¯m afraid I cannot accept your feelings¡­¡± My jaw falls open and it¡¯s all I can do not to emit an audible gasp! The girl below looks similarly shocked but recovers quicker than I do to say ¡°If it¡¯s about that Basingirl, I talked to her before-!¡± ¡°It¡¯s not about Raala. My answer would not be different if I¡¯d never met her¡­ I simply don¡¯t feel the same way about you as you do about me¡­ I wish I could return your feelings but it would be dishonest of me to pretend that I ever might.¡± The girl half sobs, half chuckles ¡°Ksem¡­ did you really have to rip my heart out of my chest like that(?!)¡± Calmly, he explains ¡°Experience has taught me that it¡¯s best to be clear and avoid giving false hope in situations like this. It¡¯s kinder to be briefly cruel than to leave you indefinitely suspended between a ¡®no¡¯ and a ¡®yes¡¯.¡± ¡°You¡­*sob*¡­ you¡­*hehehe**sob*¡­ you have a lot of experience in breaking hearts, it seems(!)¡± ¡°More than I would like to have, unfortunately.¡± he answers, sombrely. ¡°I¡­*sob**sob*¡­ I should¡¯ve guessed¡­! Should¡¯ve known I¡¯d not be special!¡­*sob**sob**sob*¡­ Just another girl stupid enough to think she had a chance with you!¡± ¡°Lurla, listen to me! You are not stupid! You are an amazingly beautiful, kind and intelligent woman! The fact that I don¡¯t feel the same about you as you do for me is no reflection at all on your worth as a person! Out there somewhere is someone you are going to make deliriously happy by becoming their woman! Someone who will have as much love to give back to you as you have for them!¡± ¡°Just¡­*sob*¡­ not you, right?¡­ *sob*¡­ That someone¡¯s not you!?¡± ¡°Not me, Lurla¡­ As much as I truly wish it could be otherwise¡­ As much as I long for the day I can find someone who loves me like this that I love back just as much¡­ today is not that day¡­¡± At this point, the girl breaks down into incoherent sobs. I watch as Ksem closes the distance to comfort her, restraining himself from getting to intimate, clearly (like his ¡®brief cruelty¡¯) to avoid leading her on. It takes a long time but he manages to get her calmed down. After having given some time for her recent tears to become less obvious, Ksem asks ¡°Do you feel up to going back to the party, Lurla?¡± The girl murmurs an affirmative. With that, I watch the two of them walk back in the direction of the hearthstead together. Left alone again, I roll back over onto my back, looking up at the brilliant night sky once more. The stars seem like they¡¯re twinkling just a bit brighter and with more colour than they were earlier¡­ The void in my guts is completely gone too¡­ Interrogating the warm and fuzzy feelings inside me, I find them to be¡­ relief? Contentment?¡­ Happiness? Am I really such a cruel, sadistic bitch that I¡¯ve been given this feeling just from watching that sweet (though irritating) girl get her heart broken?!?!?! No! That can¡¯t be it! Where¡¯s the spite?! The malice!? Where¡¯s the vindictive glee!?!?!? As much as she annoyed me, I wasn¡¯t rooting for her misery! So where¡¯s this joy coming from! Why-?! ¡°Oh¡­ shit¡­¡± I say aloud, finally realising exactly why I feel so happy right now! Ksem & Raala: An Icebound Odyssey, Chapter Thirty One ---Raala¡¯s perspective--- I step into the cavern where the brown skinned, babyfaced, pregnant woman sits sewing our tent together from large leather panels (one of which I recognise as the one from Hyena). She doesn¡¯t acknowledge me, seeming to be too focused on the work. My heart pounding, my chest tight, my breathing shallow, I take a seat a little way away from her and do my best to look like I¡¯m just nonchalantly resting while I consider the most natural choice of words and tone to ask her what I want to know. ¡®Excuse me, Ma¡¯am¡­?¡¯ No, too formal! ¡®Heeeeey! Tzazel¡­!¡¯ I don''t think so! ¡®Yo! Tzazie! What up, homeslice?¡¯ No! Absolutely not! Are you actually fucking insane, Raala!? I know you¡¯re nervous but how have you so entirely forgotten how to speak like a person! She¡¯s-! ¡°Not finish, Raala¡­¡± smiles the outland woman, interrupting my thoughts without looking at me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry?¡± I frown. ¡°Tent¡­ not finish¡­ Not finish close!¡± she chuckles ¡°I see you there, anxious it, but not finish!¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ not why I came¡­¡± I state, heart in my throat and hot coals in my belly. ¡°Why came then?¡± she prompts, deftly poking a hole into the leather with her awl. ¡°I¡­ err¡­ I was wondering¡­*hhhhh*¡­ I was wondering if you could tell me about Ksem¡­?¡± I ask, my heart thundering in my ears! The girl pauses and actually looks at me for the first time while I scream at the top of my lungs inside my head. Finally, she asks ¡°You not know Ksem? You travel him long time!¡± Wrestling my panic into submission, I keep my voice calm to say ¡°No. I do know him¡­ I just¡­ wanted to hear about him from someone who knows him better¡­¡± The woman cocks an eyebrow at me, mirthfully. ¡°¡­Just to make travelling easier!¡± I quickly defend ¡°I just think if I knew him better, it¡¯d be¡­ good¡­¡± pathetically. The outland woman scrutinises me for some long moments before chuckling ¡°Alright¡­ What you want knowing?¡± Well, what I want to know are things like ¡®what does he find attractive in a woman?¡¯, ¡®what are his turn offs?¡¯, ¡®does it seem like he likes me to you?¡¯ but, if I ask any of those, I¡¯ll have absolutely no plausible deniability! This woman has no loyalty to me so I know, if I make it too obvious why I¡¯m asking, she¡¯ll run straight to Ksem afterwards and tell him! I¡¯d die of shame! I¡¯ve got to do this in a way that, even if she suspects, she¡¯ll have no conclusive proof! ¡°Why don¡¯t you start with his likes and dislikes?¡± I suggest. She turns her eyes to the limestone ceiling, mulling that over, before saying ¡°Ksem like same things most men¡­ plenty food, warm weather, pretty girl, peace time¡­¡± no! Go back! What kinds of pretty girl!? That¡¯s the important bit!!! ¡°¡­For dislike? All opposites!¡± ¡°Hmmm¡­ what about for people? What kinds of personality does he like and not like?¡± I say, desperately trying to direct her where I want her to go without being too obvious about it. ¡°Oh, for people?¡± she thinks ¡°¡­Good people? Kindness people? Clever people? Interest people? Excite people? Dislike boring, greed, stupid, selfish.¡± Alright¡­ that¡¯s something I can use. ¡°He¡¯s¡­ umm¡­ he¡¯s straight, is he?¡± I¡¯m asking before I can stop myself! Raala!? What the fuck is wrong with you?! What happened to plausible deniability!?!?!? ¡°Mmmm?¡± she hums, cocking her head and frowning in a way that makes it very clear she didn¡¯t understand the question. Now would be my chance to bale, to just wave my hand and say it¡¯s not important but ¡°You said he liked ¡®pretty girls¡¯¡­ You didn¡¯t mention boys at all¡­ So, does that mean he¡¯s straight? He only likes girls?¡± I clarify, frantically trying to manage my tone to that of dispassionate curiosity, like I¡¯m just asking her opinion on the weather. She chuckles ¡°He ¡®straight¡¯¡­ least for I know(!)¡± The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°And¡­ what¡­ what does he like in a woman do you think?¡± I say, throwing the last of my caution to the wind. She laughs ¡°Arse or tit man you ask(?!)¡± clearly not serious. I wait, expectantly, not laughing. She eventually finishes and looks to where I sit, silently pleading for anything she knows. ¡°*sigh*¡­Ksem like girl serious¡­ not like girl silly¡­ Ksem like woman able, clever¡­ not ¡®*tee-hee* You do for me?¡¯¡­¡± acting out an affected, overly cutesy persona while I furiously work to chisel all of this information into my memory ¡°¡­He want woman equal, like him¡­ One for talking¡­ for understanding¡­ He not like woman¡­ uhm¡­ what word for ¡®do anything tell¡¯?¡± ¡°Sorry? What?¡± I ask, not allowing to be audible in my voice how desperately frustrating I find it that the language barrier is hampering my ability to get the information that I need right now! ¡°Like, he say ¡®do this¡¯¡­!¡± putting on a deep, man voice and sternly wagging her finger ¡°¡­you do¡­ What that?¡± ¡°Obedience?¡± ¡°Yes! Ksem not like obedinent woman! He like woman who think her own!¡± This woman is giving me information more precious than salt right now! Ksem wants an intelligent, competent woman who thinks for herself and can match his wits. He doesn¡¯t want a cutesy, submissive airhead! ¡°Is there¡­ is there anything else you can tell me, Tsazel?¡± I ask, anxiously. She waves her hand and says ¡°Sorry, girl, not know how say more¡­ Ask TorTor¡­ He not know like me but he say better¡­¡± dismissing me with her tone. I stand and, doing my best to seem casual, ask ¡°Would you mind not letting Ksem know I asked you about him?¡± as if it¡¯d be no big deal if she refused. She giggles, picks up a bone needle from beside her and waggles it across her lips, miming sewing them shut, before saying ¡°Secret ours(!)¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± I say appreciatively. I turn to walk from the cave and am almost out the door when she calls after me. ¡°One thing more, RaaRaa¡­!¡± Quizzically, I turn to look back where she sits. She bears her teeth in an evil smirk, flashing her eyebrows up her flat forehead while her brown eyes dart downward to my chest ¡°Ksem tit man¡­ Good for you(!)¡± My spine straightens as I feverishly try to work out how to respond to that! I¡¯ve spent half a breath thinking about it when I feel my cheeks begin to burn. Wordlessly, I turn around and step out of the cavern¡­ panting heavily as soon as I think she won¡¯t hear! Shit, shit, shitshitSHIT!!! She knows! She figured me out! What now!? She said she¡¯d keep it secret but will she?! If she goes to Ksem and tells him, that¡¯s going to absolutely rob me of any advantage! Any room to manoeuvre! Maybe I should just cut my losses? Take what I¡¯ve gained and, if Ksem mentions me talking to Tsazel about him, I just play it cool? ¡®Yeah¡­ I asked her about you after my chores were done¡­ I was curious¡­ No biggie¡­¡¯ If I go to ask that stolid, oblivious, orange beard with the sad eyes and he tells on me too, it¡¯d be a lot more damning! He¡¯s probably too heedless of social cues to have any chance of working out why I¡¯m asking about Ksem but, on the flipside, he probably wouldn¡¯t realise it was something he ought to keep to himself either! Tsazel¡¯s already given me a lot of useful material¡­ maybe I can just skip Torgan? My breathing calms as I consider that¡­ Then, I resolve; no halfmeasures! I need as much information as I can get to formulate my strategy! That man has what I need! ---Torgan¡¯s perspective--- I bring the heavy blade to the sledge to continue planing out the bottom, buying myself a little time to think. Away down the slope, I hear the voice of the man I¡¯m attempting to describe as he instructs my clansfolk. ¡°Ksem is¡­¡± I agonise, my eyes still fixed on my task and not on the (rather intense) Basingirl sitting on my left ¡°¡­He¡¯s a very¡­ big man¡­¡± not explaining myself well. ¡°I know he¡¯s tall! I have eyes(!)¡± she points out in her strangely accented speech. ¡°That¡¯s not what I mean¡­¡± I disagree ¡°¡­I¡¯m not talking about his stature¡­ I mean his personality.¡± There¡¯s a moderate pause before she asks ¡°What does it mean for him to have a ¡®big personality¡¯ then?¡± I don¡¯t answer her for a few breaths, just continuing to carve the sledge bottom while I think. Eventually, I say ¡°It means he¡¯s very¡­ much¡­¡± ¡°Sir¡­ no offence but¡­ you kind of suck at describing things!¡± ¡°I¡¯m aware¡­¡± I sigh ¡°¡­I¡­ I suppose I just mean¡­ there¡¯s a sort of¡­ force to that man ¡­ Not one of aggression or domination¡­ Domineering men are fairly easily spotted for the contemptible kind that they are, even by me¡­ No. The force of his is one of persuasion¡­ Charisma¡­ He¡¯s a man who can wield words to turn the hard flint of those around him into soft mud to be reshaped in his hands and then made hard again (apologies if my metaphor was bad)¡­ If I¡¯m honest, girl, it frightened me to consider the implications¡­¡± ¡°The implications?¡­ What implications?¡± she asks, warily. I frown, thinking. ¡°Well¡­¡± I hesitate ¡°¡­I truly believe Ksem to be a good man¡­ I don¡¯t think that¡¯s something he has simply persuaded me to believe (though that possibility is still unnerving) but¡­ can you imagine if he wasn¡¯t?¡­ Can you imagine a man coming North in command of as many as him, with his intelligence, his charisma, his power of persuasion¡­ who wasn¡¯t good? One who viewed us as mere animals? Simple obstacles to be overcome? A resource to exploit? One who could persuade his people to view us the same way?¡­ He could have swept North like a storm or a wildfire, disposing of us as he wished¡­ Such a man as that would be as close to a genuine monster as I¡¯m willing to believe could ever exist on the mortal plane.¡± A few moments of silence follow before she asks ¡°What makes you so sure Ksem is a good man and not just one who¡¯s very good at pretending to be?¡± ¡°I¡­ wasn¡¯t¡­ Not until well into my time guiding his people did the thought ever occur to me that any goodness he exhibited might be genuine¡­ I¡¯m¡­ not the best at judging people¡¯s character but, even to me, the notion that a man with so much power would be as kind as he presented himself seemed suspicious. I assumed it was just an act. A deception he was perpetrating to put those around him off guard but¡­¡± I trail off. There is a breath long silence before she prompts ¡°But?¡± Another breath passes before I finish ¡°¡­I suppose, at some point, it occurred to me how unnecessary that would be¡­ With the power that man has, I don¡¯t think he would need to pretend to be anything besides what he is¡­ It was a great relief to me to realise that he must simply be as he seems¡­ Even if what that is was still rather terrifying.¡± ¡°I¡­ see¡­¡± says the girl ¡°¡­Is there anything else you can tell me about him? Things that make him happy, perhaps?¡± I¡¯m opening my mouth to tell her that that kind of insight is beyond me when I realise ¡°Actually, yes¡­ I do know something¡­¡± ¡°What?!¡± she demands, her fierceness unsettling me. ¡°The¡­ happiest I ever saw him was whenever he had a lesson to teach someone¡­ His face and body would animate like at no other time when he was telling people things they hadn¡¯t known or showing them how to do things they hadn¡¯t known how to do¡­¡± I answer, carefully. ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡± she hesitates, her tone such that I can¡¯t tell whether she¡¯s pleased by that insight or irritated that I pointed out something I¡¯m sure must be very obvious to anyone but me ¡°¡­actually really good to know!¡± she finishes. I breathe a sigh of relief. ¡°Is there anything else?¡± she asks. I consider¡­