He couldn’t be there to protect her forever. She’d always been apart from the others, trailing in their footsteps, never quite ready to keep up. He’d been born outside of the clan, her mother too, so that had given her a certain freedom. Few of the clan expected much from her and were content to let her wander off once her work was done.
It wasn’t as if Iwa didn’t try – she’d help out with the tents and the skins, but she was so easily distracted and clumsy and there was little room for one such as her. Not when life and death could hang so easily in the balance. Tents had to be pitched even in the deepest snowstorms; one mistake could lead to disaster.
She didn’t see that. Gently he hugged her to him. Would the clan turn against her? Out of respect for him, they’d tolerated her, but what would happen once he was gone? He couldn’t help but glance around the cave, this place where he’d almost died.
Not that the clan would have murdered her, but she had a knack for trouble and she could expect little favour or mercy. Of course, people were rarely punished but that was because few transgressed. They’d been born to the clan, the hard rules of their lives learned even as they suckled their mother’s milk. And, for the few who did transgress, the punishments were always harsh.
I should have taken you to the lands of the Poles. But what would she be there, this child of the forest? What kind of life would she be able to find in such a strange place? I should have taken my chances with the traders. At first, when she was a baby, he’d had half a mind to take her out of the forest. Maybe one of the traders would have taken him, though there was little he could make by way of payment.
But he’d been greedy. He’d fallen in love with the new life that the clan appeared to offer. With them he was unique, some exotic specimen whose skills were regarded with awe. The clan fashioned simple pots from bare clay, but none could craft with fire and kiln. That’d always been a thing for the traders and, though the clan had limited use for pots when leathers and birch bark were lighter and readily available, they soon found good use for his skills.
There was magic in the kiln and the potter’s wheel. He’d shown how an earthenware jar could be used to store things out of the reach of scavengers, and how you could use clay vessels to cook. And, on occasion, they’d been glad of his skills. Glad enough to half accept the child.
Of course, the river could be dangerous. The rapids were no place for a baby, and the traders hardly did anything without the prospect of some payment at least. And in the dark watches of the night he would sit in his tent and try and take cold comfort from his excuses. ‘Can’t you do anything?’ he heard her say.
I was too greedy. He tried to stifle the thought. Now it is too late. You will all be swept away.
‘Kazik had half a mind to fight,’ Jarel said distractedly. ‘Some of the others too, but even they don’t believe that we can win. What use are our spears and arrows against their armour? If only we could catch them in the forest, but they’re too clever for that.’
‘But we can’t just give up. We’d become nothing more than a legend; a song for the old ones of other clans to sing when their campfires burn low.’ Iwa stopped, her voice riddled with tears. The clan couldn’t just disappear. She’d heard the songs of the old ones, those long, slow laments for ancient clans remembered now only as a memory. ‘Is that all we’ll be, a campfire song?’
‘Maybe not even that,’ Yaroslav whispered.
‘You’ve no idea how bad things are,’ Jarel said. ‘Most of the men are beaten, worn hollow and scared of their own shadows. Already they look to the other clans. Kazik has called a meeting in one of the deep glades, all the survivors will be there. He hopes to stop them leaving, or worse.’
‘What could be worse than that?’ Yaroslav managed. His voice was hoarse now. Maybe he’d spoken too much, spent what little strength he had on the chatter. ‘Do they think they can live alone in the forest, or that they can start a new clan?’
‘If only enough of the women had managed to run away. But there is talk…’ Jarel paused, looking out as the leaves shivered in the breeze. ‘We killed a couple, good hunters too. Kazik had their hands cut off and their eyes gouged out. After that, well, we couldn’t leave then for the wolves, though they deserved little better.’
‘Kazik?’ Yaroslav said, almost in disbelief.
True, there were not many who thought of him as the next hunt master, there were a few others better trusted – except they’re either dead or captives in the ships, Iwa thought ruefully, but Kazik was counted as one of the leaders, wise and able to bring in a kill when the younger hunters found that their energy and skills were spent. It was hard to believe that he would turn on the others, not like that, and with so few men left.
‘They plotted to go to the Poles. Kazik overheard them. They planned to tell the woyaks where to find us in return for food and some of the women to sleep with.’
‘So that’s why you keep spread out in the forest,’ Iwa said.
‘And why we have to be so careful. If the
