Upon a Savage Shore Ch. 16

"I want nothing," he snarled and turned his back on her.

"What vexes you, Huntsman?" she asked innocently. "The hunt was successful. I saw the antelope. We will eat well this night and there will be one more antelope to add to our winter stores."

"Yes the hunt was successful!" Stilmnah hissed. His ears flapped irritably against his neck. "It would have been more successful had I not sent for Seschiqal. I should have killed the thing and brought it back as a trophy."

"What thing, Huntsman?" she asked.

"The thing Stolk told of when we first arrived," he said. "It stood atop the hill above the vale and watched our hunt."

"Did it frighten the antelope?" she asked. "Is that why you are vexed?"

"No!" he snapped. "It stood and watched. I sent for Seschiqal to show him the thing. I should have guessed he would approach it. When I wanted to kill it, he refused. Now he says there will be peace between us and the thing."

"Surely, peace is preferable to killing," she observed.

"I am Huntsman," he said slowly and turned furious eyes upon the small female. "Killing is what my purpose is."

"I meant no insult," she said and bowed.

"Get out!" he snapped and kicked dirt on her. "Have food prepared when I return. I go to butcher the kills."

With those words he stormed out of his hut and across the kraal.

"Mother?"

Sscuha blinked the dirt from her eyes and brushed it off her face before looking up into her son's concerned eyes. She had left him standing around the corner of the hut so as not to anger Stilmnah excessively.

"He is insufferable," the youth said, acid in his tone.

"He provides for us, Chhal," she said simply. "It is what must be for now."

"When I am of age, I will teach him there are consequences for his rashness," Chhal said quietly.

"Perhaps someone else will teach him that lesson before you," she said and rose, dusting the rest of the dirt from her fur. "Come. We will have water and food ready for him."

"Why do you jump to do his bidding so readily, mother?" the boy asked.

"Because it vexes him that he has nothing to be vexed about," she replied with what might have been sweetness had she not kicked a little clod of dirt in front of her. "And his vexation pleases me."

"It will please me if no one teaches Stilmnah manners before I do," Chhal grumbled and followed her.

***********

"Cousin, Stilmnah is growing worse," Sneisqlik said sourly, watching the huntsman's hut.

"He is," agreed Seschiqal. "I sometimes wish the tribe had chosen him to lead instead of me."

They sat just inside the chief's hut, Seschiqal examining the god tear given him by the creature on the hillock. He wondered how such a god tear had come to be. It was smooth and flat and colored with shades and tints of purple and blue. What he would do with it, he did not know, but it was a very fine gift and he did not at all regret gifting the knife to the creature on the hilltop, though it had been made by the best knapper in the village and was as fine a blade as he had ever seen.

"There he is again," grumbled Sneisqlik. "He abuses that poor girl."

"He does not beat her," Seschiqal said, still looking at his god tear. "We can do nothing about the rest."

"Perhaps we should call a meeting of the tribe," suggested Sneisqlik. "Ask them to consider banishing Stilmnah."

"He is our best hunter," Seschiqal replied. "He is huntsman and he has those who would support him. If he were cast out they might even choose to take their families and go with him. Then we would have a new tribe on the grasslands. A tribe that we would not have peace with."

"I yield to your judgment," said Sneisqlik, though he was not happy with it. "What of the creature on the hill?"

"We have peace with him," Seschiqal said and flapped his ears absently.

"I have never seen a creature so strange," Sneisqlik said scratching his chin. "None of the Tales speak of a creature like that. Stolk said it went up to the Old Place. It is difficult to believe."

"As you said, Stolk is young but he does not lie," observed Seschiqal.

"But the Old Place has been abandoned since before the time of our great-great grandfather," Sneisqlik said, leaning forward. "Now this creature lives there. Times change."

"You are frightening yourself," Seschiqal said and snorted dismissively.

"How many feathers of smoke have we seen in the sky over the past days?" Seisqlik asked, pressing his point. "Times have already begun to change. A great winter may come as in the oldest Tales. Perhaps we should consider going as far south as we can at the end of summer."

"Would you have us abandon our lands, Sneisqlik?" Seschiqal lifted his gaze from the god tear and looked his cousin and most favored councilor in the eyes. "We have seen feathers of smoke in the sky before. We have even found god tears before. And there was the great fire in the sky only a short time ago. How many of our people thought it was the Last Day? And then when the Last Day did not come we got back to our normal life and journeyed here."

"But there are too many things this time," argued Sneisqlik.

"No there are not," Seschiqal said, raising his voice. "There is one thing. There is the thing on the hill. The thing that lives in the Old Place. The thing we have made peace with. The thing that wished to make peace with us. Is this not a good thing? Is this a thing to be frightened of?"

Sneisqlik frowned. His cousin spoke truly. There was only the one thing that was strange and new. But the Old Place had been abandoned a very long time. One Tale recounted how the tribe that had lived there had not wandered. They had stayed in the Old Place all their days and traded with the wandering tribes. Among his few possessions he carried a disk of stone that was not stone. It came down to him from his mother's mother who had said it came down to her through the long years from the people of the Old Place. Perhaps there would be a new tribe that did not wander. Perhaps the smoke feathers in the sky were a sign of better times ahead.

"It may be that you speak the truth," he said after long consideration. "It may be that the creature on the hill will remain at peace with us. It seems to have no tribe, though."

"That is no bad thing," Seschiqal said with a smile and raised his ears above his head. "If there was another tribe, food would be scarce. We would not have peace for long."

"That is true," Sneisqlick agreed. "I fear Stilmnah will not let the peace stand, though."

"If he breaks the peace we will put it to the tribe," Seschiqal said grimly, his ears dropping and his eyes narrowing. "If he breaks the peace I will demand the tribe allow me to fight him."

"If you do, cousin, he may win," cautioned Sneisqlik. "You are a great fighter, but he is also. And he would not stop until you lay in the grass among the antelope."

"If the tribe allows me to fight him, I will not stop until he lays in the grass among the antelope, cousin. Let him beware. And remember how the thing on the hill did not back away from Stilmnah. It does not fear him. Stilmnah, if he breaks the peace, will have made a great enemy, I think."

"Let us hope he does not make a great enemy for the tribe," said Sneisqlik seriously.

***********

"Have you shaken the dirt from your fur, Stilmnah?" laughed Qlikchissal when the huntsman finally joined the other hunters at the slaughter place.

"There was little enough to shake off," Stilmnah hissed back. "Perhaps you would like some to shake from yours?"

"Peace, Qlikchissal," said Ssteilssniq, second among the hunters. "Mind your manners. Such things should be left in the past. And left between those concerned."

"Perhaps," Qlikchissal snorted. "The chief was not pleased with you, though, Stilmnah. Will you make a demand of him?"

"No," Stilmnah replied and took out his knife to begin skinning one of the hanging carcasses.

"What then?" Qlikchissal wondered, unwilling to leave well enough alone. Such things were water and grass to him. He was well known for making mischief.

"There is work to do, Qlikchissal," warned Ssteilssniq. "Attend to yours."

"I am," replied the younger hunter with an amused flap of his long ears. "I only want to know what to be watching for. Tell me, Stilmnah, what will you do?"

"The chief has made peace," Ssteilssniq said firmly and glared at the troublemaker.

"The chief has, but Stilmnah has not," Qlikchissal replied slyly. "I think the huntsman will decide for himself whether to keep peace with the thing on the hill. There is only one and it is slow."

"There are its pets, also," put in Stolk. He was red to his elbows after eviscerating the antelope he was dressing.

"The pets that hide from us?" Qlikchissal snorted. "I would not fear one of them. They must be cowardly. And the thing on the hill must be cowardly, too. It offered peace without a challenge first."

"Why is that cowardly?" asked Stolk. He had no experience in such matters.

"Because there is no testing of strength in such peace," Ssteilssniq told him patiently. "Some think only the weak offer peace without a test of strength to prove their worth as a friend."

"I saw them hunt," Stolk said. "They did well, though they had no bows or bolas. They threw spears at great range. They threw them as far as our bows shoot arrows. We were amazed by their skill."

"That does not mean they are not cowards," Qlikchissal scoffed.

"The one on the hill stood calmly in the path of the herd when it panicked," Stolk argued. "That was a brave thing."

"Foolish," said Ssteilssniq. "Only a fool stands in the path of a panicked herd. They will trample you."

"The herd did not trample him," Stolk said. "He cast a spear and killed an antelope. The herd turned away, back into the other hunters. They took six that day and gave me one."

"We have heard this story already," snarled Stilmnah. "I have heard it enough. Be silent and finish skinning that carcass."

"What will you do, Stilmnah?" Qlikchissal asked again. "Will you hunt the thing on the hill?"

"That would be against the chief's decree," said Ssteilssniq. "That is not a good thing."

"The chief's decree is not a good thing," hissed Stilmnah. "We could have killed it and had no competition on the grassland. We come here for summer in order to stock up on meat for the winter. Why allow a single creature to take what has always been ours."

"Not always," Ssteilssniq said with a shake of his head. "The Tales say there was a tribe that did not wander. They lived in the Old Place."

"I do not believe the Tales tell all the truth," Stilmnah said. "They are for old women and children to believe. Not for hunters."

"My kill is processed," Ssteilssniq said coolly. "I go to wash."

"He does not approve of your words," murmured Qlikchissal when the older hunter had gone off. "So, will you keep the peace Seschiqal has made?"

Stilmnah looked at the younger hunter and then spilled the guts of his antelope on the ground. Blood mixed with the grass and soil at his feet and insects buzzed, swarming to the hot offal.

"I will hunt again tomorrow," Stilmnah said finally. "Will you hunt with me?"