Killbird

my family, what was left of it, punished further because of me. Better if I had stayed in my valley. And yet there were Yorerie and Cree and their pairmates and children to consider, for life was obviously not good in the Valley of Clean Waters. I made my decision. «You and all the others are welcome and will have my support and help,» I said. We slept, and on the morning I went back along the trail and, after a full day's march, found the small group trudging along. They were heavily laden, even the young ones, the oldest of which could scarce walk, carrying a share. And in addition to Cree the Kite, his pairmate and his two children, there were two others. «Seer,» I said, bowing to the woman who had become the Seer of Things Unseen, «it is a surprise.» «I ask your blessings,» the Seer said. «And for my daughter.» She motioned, and a tall, thin girl well past the coming of age came forward, her thin shoulders bowed under a heavy pack. «My daughter, Ouree,» Seer said. «It is because of her that I desert my family and cast my fortunes with you, Eban the Hunter, for the stars and the ashes of the ceremonial fire have spoken to me and they say that Eban is a man of greatness and generosity and will help my daughter.» «Your words make me blush,» I said. «I will do all that I can. What is it you wish?» «For you to erase the shame which came to us, my daughter and myself, when she came of age and no preman spoke for her,» Seer said sadly. «That is a problem,» I said, «for in my land there are no men.» «You have a son,» Seer said. «Yorerie has a son. They will come of age. I ask only that when they do, one of them, at the pleasure of the family head, give Ouree a child to comfort her in her last years.» «So be it,» I said. It is a thing which I had never seen, the temporary pairing of an unclaimed woman solely for the purpose of giving child, and I was shamed for both Seer and for the girl, Ouree. And, indeed, I did not understand why she had gone unclaimed. True, she was not beautiful. She was, I realized with a shock, much like me, without the short, thick and beautiful limbs of the people. But she was strong, as witness the load she bore without complaint. I led them, slowly because of the young ones and the women, to join my pairmate and Yorerie, who rested after his run to catch us, and then we traveled as a group, and it was good, so good. Yorerie and Cree were good hunters. As the new family unit marched, they went into the hills and returned with game, and thus our carry loads increased with the hides of the deer and our pace was slowed. We were thirteen—three hunters, two pairmates, five children, the Seer and her unclaimed daughter. Of the children, two were boys. My Egan and Yorerie's boy, named Boulee. Three hunters to provide for ten others. But in my range it would be easy, especially with our magic cave of the food. I had no worries and, in fact, was happier than I'd ever been, for there was no close blood claim between the families of Cree, Yorerie and myself, so mating could be accomplished among our children. We reached our home without incident, and before we entered the valley through the dragon hole I carefully showed Yorerie and Cree the dangers of the dragons of the hilltops, warning them never to make approach to the valley save through the dragon hole. I took them all into my valley, discarding my former plans to place them outside the valley in the unclaimed and rich range there. Mar, who had been doubtful at first, was happy, too, and became great friends with the females, especially the unclaimed Ouree. The first few days were spent in hunting. Then I led Cree and Yorerie in the making of log houses, after the instructions of my magic eye. They were astounded. I told them I had seen log houses in my travels, not willing as yet to share my magic, knowing the superstitions of my people. I feared that they would consider my magic tainted and turn against me. It was but the work of a half moon to build housing for the family, three houses of logs on high ground near the creek and outside the marshy growth which hid our magic cave. Our days were spent together, and at night Mar and I left them to their houses to retreat to our cool cave. One night after the log houses were finished and meat was drying in the sun and the women were working hides to warm them during the coming winter, Yorerie the Butcher reminded us that it was time for the rite of the changing year, the family celebration of the end of summer and the beginning of the time of colored leaves. With Seer of Things Unseen at her post on the hollowed logdrum, the females danced. I could not help but notice that Ouree the Unclaimed was unusually graceful. Indeed, Ouree was, in my opinion, a rare and valuable female, for she worked harder than any of us and, to the amusement of Yorerie and Cree, fashioned a longbow for herself and spent long hours in practice until, in the last of summer, she went forth alone and came home, a deer carcass dwarfing her as it was slung over her shoulders. In addition, she was our best cook, our best fashioner of hide garments, a tireless chewer of skin to prepare it, always willing to relieve one of the mothers of the care of the young. She was wonderful with our poor Egan, who walked now, but weakly, tiring quickly. It was Yorerie who put a part of my thoughts into words that night of the end of summer rites when he leaned close and said, «We were all blind, Eban, to let that one go unclaimed.» «She is different,» I said. «As you are,» he said. «But look how she sways. Look how gracefully she dances.» «I see,» I said. I grinned at him. «I do see, my friend.» When the dancing ended, it was the Seer who spoke. «We have been led into a land of plenty,» she said. «We have been shown new and wonderful things. We have homes which are warmer and stouter than the hidehouses, and we owe it to one man, to Eban the Hunter.» Cree the Kite stood. «We have spoken, the rest of us, in your absence, Eban the Hunter, and it is our wish that you serve us as family head.» «Ha, Eban,» Yorerie said. «I am honored,» I said. «But we are as one, are we not? Why do we need a family head? Later, perhaps, when our family is large. In the meantime, we have the wisdom of the Seer to guide us in traditional things, and we work equally.» «Honorable father,» Cree said, «my pairmate is with child. You cannot help but notice.» We all laughed, for Roden, mate of Cree, was, indeed, far with child, her belly round and plump. «I notice it now and then when he kicks,» Roden said. «Who, then, will bless my child when it is born?» Cree asked. I nodded. A child needed the blessing of a family head, true. Still, I was selfish. I wanted to live in my cozy cave and have the companionship of my family when I wanted it. However, I could see my duty. «Would it be good if I suggested either Cree the Kite or Yorerie the Butcher for the honor?» «You honor us,» Yorerie said, «but we have spoken. Honor us truly, Eban.» «I honor you,» I sighed, «as I am honored.» «Honorable father,» they all said, and then we danced until the moon was low and the fires burned to embers. I was happy. And then the dragons spoke, on a chill end of summer morning. Chapter Seven We were gathered as a family that morning. The sun was over the hills trying to dispel the night's chill, and the skies were blue and we ate of the ripe nuts and the dried fruit of the harvest from the wild trees and lazed about, a family well prepared for the winter. The sound of the dragon spitting came. A short burst of sound which set my hair to rise, and then, a bit later, more, and then a whole chaos of sound as half a dozen of the dragons to the north of the dragon hole began to spit. At first, when one dragon spoke, I thought of a poor unfortunate deer having wandered into the range of one of the hill dragons. Then with the others, so many of them, I felt a cold chill of dread. «Yorerie, Cree,» I said. «We go.» I led them at a trot to the dragon's hole and through, and then, having moved past the dead dragon of the hole out of range of the hill dragons, northward toward the point of the spitting sounds, which had long since died. My heart stopped when we heard, from a hollow between two ridges ahead, the wails of women in mourning. You see, I knew, as surely as I was Eban the Hunter, I knew. None of the families in the south would have been so foolhardy as to walk into the face of the hill dragons. I knew, and when we topped a ridge and saw the people gathered below I recognized, first, the form of Yuree. We ran down the hill recklessly, I tumbling and rolling to fetch up against a tree. Then, head ringing, I ran into the clearing beside a stream where the family was camped and saw Logan lying in his gore, on a blooded skin, his chest heaving, his blood still oozing from wounds on his chest and arms. Three old men, several widows, children, the pairmates of the few remaining hunters of my old family, all wailed and mourned as Yuree knelt beside Logan. Logan had led them directly into the teeth of the dragons. I ran to kneel beside Yuree, full of remorse. Why had I not stayed with them? Why had I not insisted on leading them? «Why did you change your mind, Logan?» I wailed. «Why did you lead them into the teeth?» But he was far gone. I watched him die, his blood pumping out of a torn artery. «How many?» I asked. «All of the hunters,» Yuree said, looking at me with cold eyes. «Oh, God,» I prayed. «Why me? Why do you choose me to continue to bring death to my own family?» Yorerie put his hand on my shoulder. «Honorable father,» he said. «It is not your fault.» «It is mine,» I said. «I told him of the place of plenty, and they came at my invitation.» «No.» Yorerie said pointing. I followed his finger and at Logan's blooded neck I saw the claws of war. I had never seen them before and there was a certain irony in it, since, in all probability, the bear claws which Logan wore to proclaim his intentions were probably from the bears killed by me or by my father. For never in the memory of the living had a tribe donned the bear claws and gone in search of an enemy with intent to kill. So precious was life that the last war between families had taken place in my father's father's lifetime. «No,» I said. «It cannot be.» An old man came forward. He prostrated himself at my feet. «We are yours, honorable father,» he said, tears in his eyes. «No, no, you are my family.» «Logan led a war party,» Yorerie said, pointing to the bear claws. «Have them explain.» «Yes, please,» I said, looking at Yuree. She had a sullen look on her face and would not meet my eyes. «Old man,» I said, «why did Logan come in war?» «Because you stole the hunters Yorerie and Cree,» the old man said. «Because you brought death to the family in the killbird and then took two of our few remaining hunters and left us to starve during the winter.» «And now all the hunters are dead,» I said. «Even some of the old men. Are only these left, then?» «We have not gone forward,» the old man said. «For we fear the dragons. But from a distance I see bodies lying on the slopes. Only Logan crawled back.» «Fools,» I said. «Oh,