Wolf Road, page 18
A lynx appeared over the crest of the hill, spotted the humans, and turned tail and ran. Lupa saw it, and flattened her ears to her skull, but made no attempt to chase it. She was far too sensible for that.
‘You missed another chance to nab a lynx as a pet, there!’ laughed Wren, taking off her heavy pack and dumping it on the ground.
Andar was close by. He didn’t know why Wren was laughing, but he caught the amusement. ‘Lynx!’ he laughed.
‘Oh, well done,’ said Kuba, joining them. His words carried genuine appreciation; he was feeling proud of his pupil. ‘He’s doing very well, isn’t he?’ he enthused to Tuuli and Wren.
‘Well, he’s had some excellent teaching,’ said Tuuli kindly. Kuba grinned. Wren rolled her eyes.
‘Lynx gone now,’ said Andar, enjoying the approbation.
‘Now that’s just showing off,’ said Kuba.
They were just in sight of the edge of the great sand sea now – on the fringes of the fertile plains and marshes of the Summer Set. There was a strange juxtaposition, Tuuli always thought, between that vast, empty desert and the thronged, thriving, green estuary where both animals and humans settled for the two long moons of summer.
Remi and Maatu came up to the four of them. They were carrying hunting gear.
‘Andar,’ said Remi. ‘Maatu and I would like to go hunting with you.’
‘Excellent idea,’ said Kuba.
‘No,’ said Maatu to Kuba. ‘We’re not taking you. Just Andar.’
‘The rest of you can stay here and help to set up camp,’ said Remi to Tuuli, Wren and Kuba. ‘And gather some firewood, too. We need to be well prepared now we’re out of the woods. There’s probably some driftwood down by the river that you could bring up here.’
Tuuli knew there was no point arguing with her father. He’d made up his mind. Perhaps it’s a bonding experience, she thought, hopefully. But in her heart of hearts, she was worried about why her father and uncle wanted to get her new friend alone. Was it some kind of test? Might they ask him to leave, once they had him away from the group? She was worried, but there was nothing she could really do.
‘Be careful,’ she said quietly, mostly to Andar. ‘Stay safe out there.’
Andar gave her a reassuring look. ‘Yes,’ he said simply.
He went to sort out his weapons, getting ready to set off with the two men.
As Remi, Maatu and Andar headed away from the camp, Tuuli turned to Wren.
‘What do they want with him, d’you suppose?’
‘Maybe to try to find out some more about him,’ said Wren. ‘But then again, maybe they just want to go hunting with him, genuinely.’
‘To see how he does things?’
‘Perhaps,’ Wren replied. ‘You can’t pretend you haven’t been fascinated by that, too.’
‘Yeah, but we’re not judging him,’ said Tuuli, rubbing Lupa’s ears.
The hunting party was gone until dusk. They returned just as the sun was touching the horizon – a horizon composed of rippling, undulating sand dunes. Andar was accompanying Remi and Maatu, carrying the remains of a large reindeer. Her father and uncle both seemed in good spirits, and Tuuli couldn’t have been more relieved.
* * *
This would be their last night before they reached Summer Camp itself. The weather was fine, and no one could be bothered to put up tents or even shelters. Tuuli, Wren and Kuba had spent the late afternoon collecting firewood, as they were asked. Now, as the light drained away, they’d lit two fires.
‘He’d had a long and happy life,’ said Remi. ‘And it ended swiftly enough, on the point of a spear and the edge of a knife at the throat.’
Andar was mucking in as usual, cutting up the meat into thin sections and laying slabs of it onto the coals to roast. Kuba sidled up and started another tutorial.
‘Meat,’ he said, pointing at the sizzling lumps of flesh. ‘Eat meat.’
‘I eat meat,’ said Andar, in his strange accent. ‘You eat meat!’
‘Yes!’ exclaimed Kuba. ‘We all eat meat!’
Andar seemed cheerful, at least, thought Tuuli. Remi and Maatu hadn’t scared him off. And they all tucked into the meat, even though it was as tough as old boots – it must have been a very ancient reindeer indeed.
They slept out in the open again, wrapped in piles of furs. They lit two fires to keep warm and keep predators away. On this high ground they could see the campfires of other tribes dotted around below them in the darkness. The landscape was thronged with animals, but this meant that lions, wolves and hyenas would be well furnished with much easier prey and wouldn’t glance twice at tricky humans who, they had learned, were often more formidably armed and ferocious than they might at first appear. And there was no way those predators would come near fire, either. Still, just to be safe, Remi and Maatu took turns guarding the camp and keeping the fires going. There was just enough wood. The night was full of howling and yowling but nothing came near. Tuuli stirred occasionally. Lupa slept through it all, occasionally grumbling in her sleep. As the sky lightened in the morning, the flames had just shrunk down into the embers.
SUMMER SET
Tuuli was the first to wake, but she lay wrapped in her fur sleeping bag for a while, enjoying the warmth. It was a clear, cold morning, with the lightest touch of frost dusting the ground. Eventually she couldn’t put off getting up any longer. Lupa, who had been lying right against her, reluctantly stood up and did a long stretch. Tuuli shivered as she rolled up her bed.
‘I’m really looking forward to Summer Camp,’ said Kuba.
‘Me too,’ said Tuuli, tying her meagre belongings into a small backpack.
And she was looking forward it, but also wishing in some ways that they could stay as they were: just a small talo, with a new friend among them. Things were bound to get much more complicated once they reached their destination.
On this last, long day of their trek, they crossed two shallow rivers and crested a hill – and there was Summer Set laid out beneath them.
‘That’s it,’ said Tuuli to Andar. ‘That’s Summer Set. Our summer camp. Our home for the warm season.’
‘There they are!’ yelled Kuba and started running down the hill towards the nearest tents. Numil joined him, hurtling down, arms flailing.
A huge flock of sea swallows was wheeling over their heads, wings and tails brightly backlit by the sun. The air was full of their squawking calls. They swirled around. Tuuli felt caught up in their joy – the birds were glad to have arrived at the estuary too. There were so many different birds out on the banks and islands in the broad sweep of water – sea swallows, eider, geese and swans and lots of smaller waders, darting in and out along the water’s edge. As many birds as stars in the sky. Most of them had migrated to this place, just like Tuuli and her clan. And scattered through the wetlands as far as the eye could see were the reindeer, the largest clan of all.
The humans’ camp was enormous. A great scatter of tents and shelters, spread out across a huge arc, on a broad bank above the highest tide line. Some twenty tribes came together here, each summer. Behind the tents were the rippling dunes at the edge of the great sand sea. There was no nucleus to the camp – instead, rough clusters of tipis and yurts marked out the different talos that had come together. Banners and streamers fluttered from tall poles all around.
As they walked down the hill towards it, they could hear the buzzing, booming noise of many bull-roarers, being swung to celebrate the coming-together, welcoming them.
‘Many friends,’ murmured Andar, raising his eyebrows. He looked excited but a bit apprehensive, too.
‘Very many,’ replied Wren.
‘There’s barely room for us!’ said Tuuli. ‘Where are the Fulmars?’ she asked, squinting at the camp.
Jutsa came over to them. She was holding what Tuuli thought at first was a leather bag, but then she realized it was a hood.
‘Andar, you should wear this,’ she said. Andar looked surprised.
‘Really, Mama?’ said Tuuli. ‘Is it necessary?’
Jutsa looked serious. ‘We have decided this is the best thing. For now.’
Andar was already wearing a long-sleeved tunic, which covered up his unusually pale body and arms.
‘What about his legs?’ said Wren.
‘People don’t tend to see legs so much. But they will notice his face and his hair – and there will be questions straight away. Questions which I’m not sure we can even answer.’
Jutsa sounded somewhat despondent.
‘I just think it’s best for all of us if we do this for now,’ she said to Andar, holding the hood out to him so that he could see what it was and what was being asked of him. He took it and pulled it on, over his shining hair and his big-featured face. He held up the front of the roomy hood and grinned at Tuuli and Wren.
‘A cave,’ he said.
Tuuli was glad he was taking it so well. He was being asked to cover up his differences, and it didn’t feel right.
As they continued down to the camp, Kuba reappeared, running up to them.
‘We’ve found the Fulmars,’ shouted Kuba. ‘And the Eagles and Snow Geese. They’re all here.’
‘Where?’ asked Jutsa.
‘Right in the middle,’ replied Kuba. ‘Follow me!’
And so they did, weaving their way through the crowded camp. Andar kept his head down and nobody cast a second glance at him. Or so they thought.
When they reached the tipis of their cousin-tribes, they laid down their packs and poles on a spare patch of ground, right up against the dunes. Tuuli got the impression that Remi had organized this with his Eagles kin – here, they would be close to the Eagles and the Snow Geese, and separated by these two talos from the Fulmars. Physical distance could help solve so many issues. And this year, it would be easier for everyone if Kussa, Leon and Skire were not in close proximity. This way, Aski and Garan might bump into their former partners occasionally, but they wouldn’t have to put up with seeing them every day. Or – Hern forbid – have to share a campfire with them in the evening.
Andar was helping set up the tents and shelters. He kept his hood on, pulled right down to hide his face.
‘Do we need more poles?’ asked Wren. It was always a difficult decision, a balance to be struck: how many poles to drag along the river; how many to cut closer to Summer Camp. The trees around the estuary seemed sparser than ever this year. Tuuli was sure she remembered more larch and birch around the camp when she’d been a child. And the camp was in the same place. This meant that gathering more wood – for building, fires or weapons – would now involve short expeditions back upriver.
‘We’ll be all right for tonight,’ said Jutsa. ‘We can make do with what we have. But at some point it would be great to have more poles. And more skins as well!’
There was always a chance that other tribes would have brought too many poles, and plenty of exchange happened at Summer Set. As they’d walked through the camp, they’d seen some people had already laid out wares to trade. One tribe had clearly focused their energies on hunting foxes, and had a great pile of gorgeous, thick, pure white furs on offer. There was a woman with a prodigious array of flint rough-outs, ready to be knapped into fine points. There were baskets galore and – already – piles of fresh reindeer hides. Tuuli’s eye was drawn by one hide laid out with stone-shells – and even a few nuggets of rare amber; she’d have to come back. There was plenty of food as well. But no one had seen any piles of spare-looking poles, so a vague plan was made for a foraging party to go off and gather this essential resource. It would probably mean at least one overnight trip, as the few trees around the estuary had already been hard-hit by the camp’s voracious appetite for wood. Wren began to wish she hadn’t mentioned it, but then Jutsa would probably have had the same thought herself. With three adults leaving the talo that spring, even with the addition of Andar’s muscles their carrying capacity on the trek had been hard-hit.
‘We could go and get some wood tomorrow,’ Tuuli suggested quietly to Wren. ‘I think Andar’s feeling a bit overwhelmed.’
She seemed to be right. Andar was very quiet that evening. His familiar loud laugh was silent. He clearly understood that he was not to draw attention to himself, and he stayed sitting by a small campfire, between their tents and the dunes. Most of the rest of the tribe had dispersed – wandering off to find old friends and relatives. Wren left for a while, to find her teenage friends. Tuuli wanted to go and find Petrel, but she didn’t want to leave Andar completely alone.
‘We’ll go to get some wood tomorrow,’ she said to him, pointing at the shaft of her spear.
Andar peered at her from under the hood and under his brows. She could hardly see his eyes in there. He nodded at her.
‘I go,’ he said.
‘Yes, we’ll go – you, me and Wren.’
Eventually, Wren came back, bearing gifts.
‘Eggs!’ she announced, showing them the treasures in her basket.
‘You didn’t get those yourself?’ asked Tuuli.
‘No, I did not,’ said Wren proudly. ‘A boy from the Snow Geese thinks he can win me over by bringing me eggs. I didn’t argue with him. I took the eggs!’
‘You’re playing a dangerous game, there,’ said Tuuli. ‘Let’s cook them!’
Tuuli raked the embers of the fire a bit with a short stick, then she and Wren began to tuck the eggs into the ashes. Andar watched them with quiet bemusement and amusement.
‘He doesn’t know what we’re doing,’ said Wren, smiling.
‘Oh, come on, he must have cooked eggs before,’ said Tuuli. ‘Andar, you’ve cooked eggs before? Haven’t you?’
Andar shook his head. ‘No,’ he said, almost whispering. ‘Why?’
‘Um, because they’ll taste nice,’ said Wren, miming peeling and eating an egg.
‘To be fair, they do taste nice enough raw,’ said Tuuli.
‘You heathen,’ said Wren.
After a while, Wren cracked the top of one of the eggs with her fingernails, to investigate how things were going inside the shell. The white was almost cooked through.
‘Wait just a few moments more,’ she said, wagging her finger at Andar, who seemed keen to get stuck in. Then she fetched a leather bag, put her hand into it like a mitten, and used it to lift the eggs out of the ashes. When they’d cooled, Wren and Tuuli began to break open the eggs and eat them. Andar did the same. When he’d eaten one whole egg, he looked at them and said, ‘Good. Good.’
‘See, they’re delicious,’ said Tuuli. ‘You don’t have to eat the shell, though!’
There were so many eggs – duck eggs, swan eggs, kittiwake eggs. They all tasted a bit different. When the three humans had eaten their fill, Lupa got three eggs of her own.
‘Why have you tied her up?’ asked Wren.
‘Because I can’t have her ranging around the camp. Some know her but others might think she’s wild, and drive her away – or worse. I need to talk to people, make sure they know she’s mine and that she’s tame.’
‘Sensible,’ agreed Wren.
‘So tell me about egg boy,’ said Tuuli. ‘You know he won’t leave you alone now, all summer.’
Wren groaned. ‘At some point I will have to tell him I only want to be friends. But I might let him bring me more eggs first!’
* * *
The following morning, Tuuli, Wren and Andar – and Lupa, of course – set off early, heading back upriver, to forage for timber. Young larch and birch saplings would be their primary target, as they were easy to chop down, and it wasn’t hard to strip off the branches, leaving a strong, straight trunk. Whatever Remi and Maatu had said to Andar, or found out about him, on their hunting trip, they seemed happy enough to let the three of them (and the wolf) go off on their own.
They didn’t have to go too far. They found a small wood tucked into a little valley, where one of the tributaries ran down to join its siblings, heading for the sea. There, they cut down ten small trees – enough for two good-sized tipis. They used chunky sharp-edged flints to chop at the trunks – close to the ground. It was hard work, and even holding the tools with a hide to cushion the blows, it was tough on the hands. Tuuli could feel her joints aching by the end of the day, and she sat by the pile of trunk-poles, rubbing her hands. Wren was doing the same.
‘Papa has talked about making a handle for an axe,’ said Tuuli. ‘I think he might be onto something.’
‘Always the inventor!’ said Wren.
‘It shouldn’t be too hard,’ said Tuuli. ‘You could split a stout stick, shove the flint in and tie it round with wet sinew. I think it would give you extra swing, a bit like the dart-thrower.’
‘Oh, well, next time,’ laughed Wren.
All day long, Andar was very quiet.
‘Are you okay, Andar?’ asked Tuuli.
He smiled at her and nodded. But he looked sad.
They divided up the trunks into three piles, tied bark ropes round them and started to drag them back to the camp. Andar insisted on taking a pile of six, leaving just two each for Wren and Tuuli.
‘I wouldn’t usually let a mere boy beat me,’ said Wren, ‘but as you insist…’
They dragged and stopped, dragged and stopped – taking pauses to catch their breath, rest their aching legs and drink cold, fresh water from the stream. Then they went up and over the hill and down to the back of the camp, finding it suddenly easy to drag their haul over the edge of the dunes. Then, just as they neared the small and rather shabby tipis of the Swans – soon to be transformed into tall new tents – Andar stopped, and dropped the ropes of his bundle. He’d put his hood back on as they came over the hill. Now he pulled it back, just enough to reveal his face. He looked as if he might cry.
