Beyond Belief (Clan of the Ice Mountains Book 4) Read online

  Kossu fell at his father’s side, clutching his body, tears blinding him as he called out to his father again and again until he collapsed on Rusik’s bloody chest and began to moan, a deep haunting sound of grief that tore at Attu more painfully than any nuknuk tusk ever could.

  Attu had alerted Rika, who reported that Veshria had fainted at hearing the news of her man’s death. But when the men brought Rusik’s body into camp, Veshria was there, silent, motioning to the others where she wanted the body placed in her snow house, sitting with the other women as they began to wrap Rusik for burial, holding his head on her lap and stroking his hair much as Elder Nuanu had done with Elder Tovut’s body. She said nothing as Suanu began painting the Clan symbols on Rusik’s cheeks, just under his closed eyes. Even Trika had joined the women, and as she cried with the others, Attu felt his mind screaming with the pain of their grief. And his own. He left the snow house.

  “Attu.”

  Attu turned to see Rika. She had followed him. She said nothing, but wrapped her arms around him for a moment before pulling away. “You need some of my calming tea. Your whole body is shaking.” She looked up, studying his face.

  “I’ll be all right,” Attu said, meeting her eyes. “It’s just that I couldn’t do enough to save Rusik. It all happened so fast.” Attu struggled to stop trembling, turning away from his woman and pounding his fist into his other palm. “First the thief’s attack, then the sickness and Mantouk dying. And now this.” He looked around. Several of the others were watching them. “I can’t talk about this. Not here.” He strode away.

  Rika let him go.

  Attu and Rika sat in his parents’ snow house. Yural had insisted they join them for the evening meal. For once, all the pooliks were sleeping. Attu didn’t want to talk about any of the events of the past day, but he knew he had to, as the Clan’s leader. He had to know how everyone was dealing with another death on the heels of Mantouk’s.

  “Is Veshria in shock?” he asked.

  “I can’t tell. When Veshria came back from the Between of unconsciousness, she was calm, moving about to get her man’s things ready for burial. But as far as I know, she hasn’t spoken a word since we told her.”

  “I’ve never seen a reaction like this from a woman who has lost her man. I’m very worried about her.” Yural rose to adjust the nuknuk lamp.

  “It’s like part of Veshria died with her man. Rusik’s death has shocked us all. But it has also helped Trika grieve her own man, preparing Rusik’s body as she couldn’t do for Mantouk. You saw how Mantouk’s death cut Trika’s heart with grief, but she’s still with us, still talking. Veshria’s reaction...” Yural clutched her spirit necklace.

  “We had gone for so many moons without anyone dying. All the women gave birth and survived. All of the pooliks were doing well. And in spite of my vision, Broken Rock Bay still seemed the best place for us. And then the Tuktu came with their talk of thieves. The thieves came and we fought them. The lone thief came, and then the sickness, and now this...” Attu felt something inside his spirit break, and the words rushed out of him before he could stop them. “What am I doing wrong as our leader? How could I bring my people to this place? What was I thinking?”

  Attu felt ashamed to break down in front of Rika and his parents, but he couldn’t hold in his feelings any longer. “My vision hasn’t even come to pass yet, and still two of our own have died in just a few days.”

  “Attu-” Ubantu began, but Attu couldn’t stop.

  “Toonuk was right. I am naïve. I can’t even begin to understand why the Tuktu have thrown out so many of their own or made life so difficult that many of their men prefer to leave the Tuktu Clan and roam as bands of thieves. We know there are two of those bands left. We’ve seen no other enemies, and the Tuktu spoke of none, so I think we can assume the men in my vision are probably one of those bands. We know if they discover we’re here, they won’t hesitate to kill us to get what they want. We think we can see ahead, see danger and stay safe, but... ” Attu covered his face with his trembling hands.

  “Meavu Saw the thieves attacking the Tuktu.” Rika touched his arm. “She Saw the attack on Keanu and Soantek.”

  “But she barely Saw them in time. And no one Saw that Rusik would be attacked by the nuknuk.”

  “This is not about being naive, Attu,” Ubantu said. “It’s not even about Gifts. This is about leadership in the difficult times. You are facing what every leader must face: the consequences of decisions made in the interest of everyone, the responsibility and the grief of seeing people you love dying and the resulting grief of us all, and the uncertainty of life and death in the Here and Now. Did you think to protect us all from everything that could hurt us? From all the spirits and the animals and the other people in Nuvikuan-na who mean us harm?”

  Attu dropped his hands and looked to his father. Ubantu’s eyes were filled with tears of compassion for his son.

  “You are Attu, a Nuvik hunter,” Yural spoke up. “You are honorable and you serve your people well, using what we all are learning about this place. You do what you can do. That is all. And that is enough.”

  “People die,” Rika’s voice was almost a whisper. “I know what it feels like to think you should have been able to do more, to look back and question yourself after someone has died, and to come to the conclusion you are somehow inadequate to the task, be it healer or leader. Yural and Ubantu are right. Life is hard and death comes to us all. It is the way of the spirits, Attu. It is not your fault. None of it.”

  The nuknuk lamp sputtered as they sat in silence for a long time. Finally, Attu took in a deep breath, and as he let it out, he felt his body stop shaking. He looked to his parents and Rika. “I know in my spirit that what you are all saying is true. But it is so hard seeing others die. I guess it was easier for me to think I could have done something else, something different, to avoid what has happened to our people in the last few moons,” he looked down at his now steady hands, “because then I would still feel like I had control over everything.”

  Rika sighed and opened her arms to Attu.

  They buried Rusik’s body at the top of one of the six hills, farthest from camp. The area was rocky and the ground blown free of snow. Suka found a natural depression and they used that, piling up the rocks and creating a mound to keep Rusik’s body safe from predators.

  Attu shivered as he remembered the dogs in the thieves’ camp and added another rock to the pile. “We will guard his body for the full time granted a Nuvik hunter, for he has proven himself worthy of our Clan,” Attu said.

  The next few days passed. Veshria spoke to no one, but she resumed her woman’s work and spent much time with Keanu and Soantek, preparing meals for them, helping the still weak Keanu with her woman’s chores, and sending Ganik and Tishria on various errands to keep them busy.

  The two children came to Rika and Attu’s shelter a few days later, bringing the pup with them. At first, Rika didn’t want the large young dog in her shelter with the pooliks, but Attu assured her he could control him if necessary. Attu was surprised when it was Tishria, and not Ganik, who spoke after motioning for the grey male to lie down. The pup obeyed, placing his snout on his paws.

  “Healer Rika, Mother needs some of the white bark powder,” Tishria said, pulling Attu out of his thoughts. “She said you would have some.”

  “She told you?” Rika asked, leaning toward the girl in her eagerness to hear Veshria was finally speaking again.

  “No, but I know what she wants.” Tishria looked away from Rika, as if embarrassed.

  “I don’t under-”

  “Tishria knows what we all want before we say it,” Ganik said. He seemed at once both contemptuous of Tishria and awed. “She even knows what Grey Wolf wants.”

  “Grey Wolf?”

  “The dog’s name.”

  “He doesn’t like being called a dog. He is Grey Wolf, like his father,” Tishria scolded Ganik. “You must remember that or he won’t respect you.”
<
br />   Attu crouched in front of Tishria, eye to eye. “So, you hear the dog’s – I mean, Grey Wolf’s – thoughts?” Attu tried to ask as nonchalantly as he’d seen Tingiyok do with Meavu when she’d shared an emerging Gift with them.

  “And he hears mine,” Tishria said, her voice a whisper.

  “And when your mother needs something?”

  “She thinks to herself, but I hear her as if she said it out loud,” Tishria said. “I’m not lying. I do.” The little girl stuck her chin out, as if she’d been told before that she was making things up.

  I believe you, Attu mind spoke to her.

  “Your voice is so clear in my-”

  Don’t speak your answer. Think it.

  I hear you. Tishria looked with wonder at Attu. Not like Mother. Mother’s thoughts are all jumbled. It’s hard to know what she’s thinking since Father... Tishria stopped communicating as her eyes filled with tears. She tried to brush them away. “Mother doesn’t...” she switched to mind speak, like it when I cry.

  Poor child. Rika held out her arms to Tishria, and the girl fled into them.

  “So amid all our heartache and grief over the deaths of Mantouk and Rusik, there is a great joy as well, to discover strong Gifts are among us in at least one of our children.” Yural sat near the nuknuk lamp in the group snow house, talking with Farnook, Suka, and Attu.

  “Our daughter has a Gift,” Suka said.

  “What?” Farnook looked at her man, perplexed.

  “The Gift of the loudest cry in the camp. It gets her what she wants, as well.”

  Yural and Attu popped their lips as Farnook punched Suka in the arm.

  “Ow!” he cried.

  Yural turned back to the nuknuk lamp, touching the wick here and there with a small bone tool. The light flared even brighter than before.

  How does she do that? Attu thought as he stretched in the renewed heat of the lamp and told himself he needed to get up and go back to his own shelter, where Rika lay sleeping with their pooliks. Just a while longer, he decided. The night was cold, and they’d had no more snow to build tunnels from the group snow house to their family ones. Attu had guarded the camp last night and was tired.

  How long do we have before the Tuktu thieves find our camp? It was a haunting thought Attu could not dispel, which came to him whenever he grew quiet. The hunters had all learned to use the bows they’d gotten from the Tuktu. One had broken the first time it was drawn back, probably damaged in the fight, so there were only five. They’d stocked plenty of arrows and made pouches for them. Bashoo and Ubantu had gotten to be quite good with the bows, so if a fight came, they would use the best two. The others were stored with Attu, Tingiyok, and Suka.

  But if they were attacked by as large a group as Attu had seen in his vision, those few weapons would never be enough. The thought was so disturbing, Attu no longer felt comfortable in the heat of the nuknuk lamp. He excused himself and returned to his own shelter, where he could be with Rika and his children, where he could see them, hold them, and protect them.

  Chapter 14

  Kossu held up his latest failed attempt at bow making. Attu examined the bow, its form bent too much from just twenty pulls.

  “Were the first few shots good with it?” Attu asked.

  “Almost as good as the thieves’ bows. Then it began weakening.”

  “Can you show the other hunters the wood you used to make this one?”

  “Why?” Kossu looked down at the bow in disgust.

  “Because this is the best one anyone’s been able to make so far, and if we need to fight, our hunters could use a few of these bows each to get off a few shots at an enemy before they bent too far. It’s better than just having the five bows we have now.”

  “And it might make those thieves think we all have decent bows. At least at first.” Kossu looked down at the bow in his hands with more interest. “But I’m not going to stop searching for the same wood the thieves used to make their bows.”

  The weather grew still colder, and Attu relished the crisp air, so much like the Expanse. Everything around him looked richer in the light of the slanting sun during the short amount of daylight each day. The women brought their pooliks to the group snow house and spent much time there through the dark hours. Although the air within was damp with the smell of wetness coverings, the happiness of the women and the squeals of the delighted babies at play filled Attu’s heart with joy.

  Attu sat near one of the nuknuk lamps with Ubantu and the other men not guarding the camp. There was no need of the heat when so many were in the large snow house, so the women kept the flame low, but it was a gathering place of long habit, and the light was welcome to them all.

  “I’m concerned about Kossu,” Ubantu said. “He is long absent from camp.”

  “I spoke with him before he left this time,” Attu said. “He is determined to find the right wood to make more bows. He’s tried every type of tree the others found, and now he’s ranging farther and farther away to find others to try.”

  “It is not wise that he goes alone.” Tingiyok’s concern reflected in the others’ eyes. “Being the man of his family now, he should be here when not hunting, to protect his mother and siblings. And what if he is attacked by another lone thief or one of the dogs they left behind?”

  “I have shared this with him,” Attu said. “He showed us the wood to make the temporary bows, but in his grief that’s not enough. Kossu has thrown his energy into this quest to find the bow wood, even though no one has been able to find it. I’ve been reluctant to stop him. I’m not sure what he would do if he didn’t have this idea to keep his thoughts from the death of his father. And the wood must exist. It may just be too far away from here.”

  “Rusik was a fine hunter. May his star light the night for all of us,” one of the hunters said.

  The others nodded, and no one spoke for a time.

  “I pray the spirits reward his efforts and Kossu finds the bow wood,” Tingiyok said.

  “Imagine all of us with bows and arrows as good as the few we have now,” Soantek added.

  “Attu glanced at Soantek’s face in the light of the lamp. The man now carried scars, angry red pits in his skin. But Soantek had lived, and he was strong again. Attu pushed away his thoughts of Mantouk after saying a quick prayer for his spirit, and for Trika and Chonik.

  A dog started barking, and the other two joined in.

  Attu looked up as other hunters grabbed their weapons.

  “What is it?” one of the hunters asked.

  “Attu!” Suanu called from the edge of camp.

  Attu and the others ran to where Suanu crouched behind her shelter, holding the rope attached to Dog, who was leaping and barking wildly as Suanu struggled to control her. As the men reached Suanu, Dog stopped leaping and stood frozen, glaring past the shelter into the dark where long grass grew beside the camp. A deep growl rose in her throat.

  “Something is out there. I couldn’t see it, but Dog did. I grabbed her rope before she could go after it.”

  Attu gave the silent signal, and his hunters spread out and moved forward cautiously. Attu saw that Tingiyok had thought to grab one of the bows and had it nocked and ready.

  “No!” Ganik cried as a blur of grey fur raced past the men and into the long grass. Grey Wolf barked once, then the grass erupted with the sound of animals fighting.

  Suka ran into the grass, toward the fight. “Dogs!” he shouted as he drew closer. “At least six of them.”

  Attu pushed his mind into Grey Wolf’s. Run from them, he mind spoke as he created a picture in his mind of Grey Wolf running from the other dogs out into the open area where the hunters could spear them.

  Grey Wolf pushed back. Attu sensed the dog’s revulsion at the idea of running instead of fighting.

  Attu pushed the idea at Grey Wolf again. Too many for you. Pack fight with you. He sensed the dog’s agreement.

  “Get ready,” Attu said. “They’re coming out this side.”


  Grey Wolf shot out into the open area, a pack of screaming dogs at his heels. He turned and grabbed the throat of the first dog behind him and the pair rolled away from the others, white sand flying as they churned it up with their feet, Grey Wolf trying to maintain his grip and the other dog trying to get away.

  Before the rest of the pack could realize the danger they were in, Attu’s men speared them, dragging each dog like a nuknuk and striking killing blows when they could.

  One dog tried to run away, but Tingiyok caught the animal in the back with an arrow. The dog howled in pain as it fell to the ground. Tingiyok ran to it and killed it with a blow to the head.

  Attu felt his gorge rise as the last dog fell to Ubantu’s spear.

  Grey Wolf stood over the dog he’d attacked. He was bleeding from a cut on his ear, but otherwise looked all right.

  Ganik ran toward him, but when he drew close, Grey Wolf growled at the boy. Ganik stopped, drawing back in sudden fear.

  “The other dog isn’t dead yet,” Bashoo said. He walked over to Ganik and picked him up like a toddler, stepping away from the still growling dog.

  “Let me kill it,” Attu said aloud, walking toward the dog with his killing club. He opened up his mind to show Grey Wolf what he was going to do. But when he touched the dog’s consciousness, the wild fierceness that swept over him made Attu stumble. He stopped his approach.

  “Your kill,” Attu said aloud as he sent the message to Grey Wolf.

  Suka had taken a step forward, but he held back with the others at Attu’s words.

  “You defended your pack well this day,” Attu continued. “Do you kill this one, or do I?” He sent a picture of himself, using the killing club.

  Grey Wolf stopped growling. He looked around, as if realizing that there were no more enemy dogs to fight. He stepped back, away from the dog that lay before him, still alive, but bleeding out fast.