Broken Rock Bay (Clan of the Ice Mountains Book 3) Page 7

  Attu paddled harder.

  “Be prepared to cut the rope, my son!” Ubantu cried as a large wave passed over them, nearly upsetting Attu’s and the others’ boats.

  Attu knew they might have to let the strange hunters crash into the rocks in order to save themselves, but he wasn’t giving up yet. His shoulders burned, but he ignored them and dug deeper with his paddle.

  Rika. We’re going to have to cut the rope if the others don’t come soon.

  Don’t cut it. The first boat is beached and your hunters are coming back to help you now. I can see them through the trees.

  Attu strained to look and caught a glimpse of their skin boats moving in and out of sight as the giant waves rolled into the shore.

  “The rest are coming!” Attu shouted. “Keep paddling!”

  Are you all right? Rika’s voice held a strong note of worry.

  Yes. But keep hidden until I’m sure it’s safe.

  This is crazy, Attu thought. No one should be out in waves like this. But he clenched his jaw and paddled still harder. The old wound from the ice bear attack burned down his back as if it were fresh. He knew that in front and behind him, each hunter was pushing himself to the limit. We are all stubborn, and will not be defeated. Attu grinned in spite of his pain.

  The other hunters arrived with a shout. Attu didn’t need to tell the men what to do. He kept paddling with the rest while the new group latched on to the front of the first skin boat. As soon as they began paddling also, Attu felt their boats finally making forward progress away from the rocks.

  Attu looked back. The rope through the hook was holding, Ubantu’s spear bent almost to the breaking point. The strange hunters were still paddling, but weakly, and as he watched, the man in the front collapsed, falling away from Attu’s sight into the boat.

  Attu turned back and strained at his own paddle.

  “We’ll be clear of the rocks soon!” Ubantu called out, and true to his prediction, within a few moments the boats broke free of the grip of the current, and the strangers’ canoes moved past the rocks into the safety of the open bay.

  The men let out a whoop, then one by one, Attu’s men untied their ropes until just Ubantu, Rovek, and Attu were still attached to the first canoe. As they neared shore, the three hunters also untied their crafts from the larger canoe to avoid being caught and tangled together as they neared the beach in the waves. The others moved back behind them, coming alongside the two large canoes and guiding them in.

  Attu jumped out into knee-deep water, lifting his boat free of the surf, which rolled up to his chest as he struggled to maintain his balance while holding his skin boat over his head. The waves pounded at the shore, and Attu groaned at the weight of his normally light-feeling craft, now fighting him in the wind as he worked to keep the fragile boat out of the waves and not lose his footing. One of the other hunters reached for his craft, and Attu let him take the front half. Together, they moved through the tumbling gravel and foam at the shoreline. As they gained the dry beach, other hands reached for Attu’s boat, and he mumbled his thanks to them as the hunters grabbed it and hoisted it onto their shoulders, turning to carry the craft the rest of the way up to where the others lay, above the surf. Attu moved back toward the waves and the three canoes.

  Rovek ran up to him. “The others have the large boats pulled up far enough on the beach so we can get the strangers out. There are many of them. Some look dead; others are hurt. They need my sister’s healing skills. I’ll go get her.”

  “Let me see, first,” Attu said, putting a hand on Rovek’s shoulder to keep him from running into the trees for Rika and the other women. “I need to make sure it’s safe for the women to return.”

  “What do you think?” Rovek asked as they neared the three strange boats. Before Attu could even see the men, it was clear to him that these hunters had been through some horrible ordeal. The canoes had been badly damaged.

  Attu and Rovek stepped to the side of the nearest canoe as one of the men in the boat groaned. Some indeed looked dead, as Rovek had said. Attu counted the men in all three boats: sixteen, most unconscious, their bodies sprawled at odd angles across the bottoms of the canoes. The three men still conscious were grasping their paddles, which were mounted into the sides of the canoes and keeping the men upright.

  The unconscious men in the boats lolled with the waves, while the three who were still awake fought every movement of the boats to remain upright. One sat rigid while another moved his hands as if trying to still paddle, even though they were now on dry ground. All stared straight ahead, their gaze unmoving on some unseen and distant horizon.

  Attu’s stomach clenched as he reached out and touched one of the strangers. The hunter jerked back out of Attu’s reach, his eyes large and dark and wild in his face. His salt-encrusted hair stuck out from the sides of his head, making him look even more frightened. The man’s skin was rough and red, with oozing blisters under his eyes and around his mouth. The skin on his arms was peeling away, the new skin underneath an angry red. Attu flinched at the sight of the sunburn. It looked as if the man had been dropped into a boiling cooking skin, then plucked back out. His clothing, what there was of it, was a strange color, like the grey-blue of a winter sky, and it hung in tatters from his emaciated body. Attu recognized starvation when he saw it and swallowed reflexively.

  “Look at them,” one of the other hunters said. “They must have been out in the open ocean for days – maybe even a moon or more. I’ve never seen so much salt covering a person before, have you?”

  Attu? It was Rika. Attu sensed her worry.

  We’re all right. There’s no danger. He showed her what he was seeing.

  I’ll tell the others it’s safe to gather up their things and return. I’ll grab my healer’s bag and be there as quickly as I can.

  Bring water. All our water skins.

  “Rika is coming with the others. You don’t need to go for her,” Attu told Rovek. “Give me your water skin.” Rovek handed over the skin, and Ubantu stepped up with his, also.

  “Go help the women. They’re bringing more water,” he told one of the hunters, and the man rushed off toward camp.

  The other hunters tried to rouse the rescued men and give them water. Attu moved to a man who was sitting up and conscious, but he was staring off into space as if he were still on the open ocean. Attu tried to release the man’s hands from the paddle he was clutching so he could give him the water skin to drink, but when he touched him, the man tightened his grip on the paddle and moaned.

  “Let me try,” Attu’s father said. Ubantu murmured softly to the man as if he were speaking to a fussing poolik, murmured, and smiled, and slowly reached for his hands again. This time, the man moaned softly at Ubantu’s touch, but did not pull away. Ubantu gently worked to get each of the man’s fingers off his paddle, one at a time. When he had one hand free, Ubantu laid it gently in the man’s lap, working on his other hand. The hunter stared ahead, apparently unaware of his bloody hands or the man releasing them from the paddle.

  Attu sucked in his breath at the sight of the man’s claw-like bloody fingers. Flesh tore from the stranger’s hands, sticking to the paddle, a bloody testament to this man’s courage and tenacity to save not only himself, but also the others in the boat, no matter what the cost.

  “Good. I think we can get him out of the boat now. But these men need more than what healing we know.” Ubantu looked to Rovek, his hands still on the stranger’s. “We need Yural. She may be the only one who can save the rest of these strangers. Their spirits are about to flee their bodies. She might be able to stop them.”

  Farnook?

  Yes?

  Don’t wait for the others. Tell Yural some of these men are very near death. Come with Yural and Meavu right now to help them. Let the others carry the water and food.

  “Meavu and Farnook are coming with Yural,” Attu told his father as he turned back to the hunter in the boat.

  “Meavu and Farnook?” Att
u’s father asked. Ubantu placed the strange hunters’ other hand back in his lap. Still, the man did not move. “Why?” He looked confused.

  “They both understand what it’s like to experience a horror such as these men have gone through,” Attu explained. “And Meavu has strong Gifts, too, Father. I believe she’ll be able to help in a way others cannot.”

  Ubantu nodded, his face thoughtful.

  Chapter 6

  Yural bent over one of the survivors. “He is near death, but not gone yet. Attu, get some other men to help you lift him out of the canoe.” She motioned to one of the women. “We need a fire lit up on the beach and food and more sleeping furs brought. More fresh water, also. These men are cold and starved, and when they awaken, they will need water. Then we can feed them.”

  “But small amounts at a time,” Rika added. “Don’t let them drink or eat much at first. And they may also have evil spirits of sickness in them. Tell the women to only give up furs they can spare. We may have to burn them.”

  The women moved on to the next canoe, examining each stranger.

  Attu’s spirit convulsed within him. He’d never seen people so close to the Between of death by sunburn and lack of food and water. All but one were now unconscious. Most were taken up the beach, where warm furs were arranged for them near a fire. A few had been pulled to the side, Yural and Rika quite sure they had gone Between, their spirits never to return. But sometimes, a person might seem gone, the breath long out of their body, then they suddenly woke up as if from a deep sleep. Just in case they were mistaken, Rika had asked Nuka to sit near the ones thought gone, watching them for any signs of life.

  Meavu and Farnook moved among the Clan, speaking first to one of the hunters, then to another. One of the women started crying, and Meavu took her aside, wrapping her arm around the woman and comforting her. Attu had thought Meavu and Farnook would be able to help the men they’d saved, but as he watched the two women, he realized they were doing something else equally important. They were helping their own people deal with the shock of what they were seeing while continuing to do what was necessary to save as many of the hunters from the canoes as possible.

  “Help me with this one,” Rika called to Attu as she worked to push one survivor into a sitting position from where he lay sprawled in the bottom of the last canoe. “I think he’s–”

  The man sputtered and jerked, hitting Rika. She fell off to the side.

  “Rika!” Attu ran to her and pulled her away from the stranger, who’d fallen back into the canoe and lay there, breathing heavily.

  “–alive,” Rika finished. She looked up at Attu, who had picked her up and was now holding her in his arms several steps away from the canoes. “Thank you, mighty hunter.” She grinned at him lopsidedly and rubbed her shoulder where the man had hit her. “I’m all right.” Rika squirmed in Attu’s arms so he would let her down.

  Attu held her more tightly.

  “I’m all right,” Rika repeated.

  They moved back to the man together. He was conscious and had managed to sit up on his own. He mumbled something Attu didn’t understand and looked around, rubbing his eyes.

  Attu showed him the water skin he was carrying, and the man grabbed it from him and drank fast, water spilling over his mouth and chin and down onto his salt-encrusted clothes.

  “Easy,” Rika said to the man, her voice gentle. “Easy.”

  The stranger looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. He stopped drinking and rubbed his stomach.

  “Yes.” Rika smiled at him. “Too much water too fast will make you very sick. You will throw it back up and feel even worse than you do now.”

  “I think he’s trying to tell you he’s hungry,” Attu said.

  The man watched them both but didn’t speak again. He took another mouthful of water, closed his eyes, and swallowed it. Then he held the water skin away from himself, trying not to drink any more, but he was too weak to keep holding it there. The water skin fell to his lap, where he cradled it like a newborn.

  “Good,” Rika whispered.

  The man regarded her from half-closed eyes. After a few more breaths – it seemed like the man was counting them – he lifted the water skin and drank another two swallows. He opened his eyes fully again and struggled to sit up.

  Attu grasped the man by his arm, curved his other around the man’s back, and helped the hunter to a more upright sitting position. The man sat there, breathing heavily. He took another drink from the water skin, this one longer. He managed to stop himself, and when Rika reached for the skin, the man let it go reluctantly.

  He rested a moment longer, then struggled to rise to a standing position to get out of the canoe. Attu reached out his hand again, but the man shrugged it off, grabbing the side of the canoe and trying to get out on his own. He was too weak. He fell back into the bottom of the canoe and sat there, his breathing ragged.

  “We can help you,” Attu said.

  The man’s eyes were clouded now. Probably with exhaustion, but Attu could also see frustration on his face as the hunter attempted standing again.

  “What’s wrong?” Rovek walked up beside them.

  “We need to get this one out of the canoe, but he wants to do it on his own.”

  “We’re going to help you,” Attu said, letting his voice deepen into what sounded like a command. Rovek nodded encouragement at the hunter, and they each held out a hand. The man seemed to understand and held out his own hands, but now he was too weak to grasp theirs. Attu and Rovek each hooked an arm under the man’s arms and lifted him free of the canoe.

  “He’s skin and bones,” Rovek said, voicing Attu’s own thought. “They must have been able to collect some rain to drink or they wouldn’t have lasted long enough to be so starved, yet still alive.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  Attu and Rovek set the survivor down gently, and surprisingly, the hunter did not collapse, but stood by himself in the sand. He pushed their arms away, and though he wobbled like a poolik learning to walk, he did not fall.

  “Take him up to the fire,” Rika said, “I’ll examine him there as soon as I’m done with the others in this last canoe.” There were two more men in the boat. Both looked dead.

  Attu hesitated.

  “I don’t think either of these will give me a problem,” Rika reassured him, her mouth pressing into a thin line instead of the smile Attu sensed she’d been about to make, to reassure him she’d be all right without his assistance. She looked away from him instead and studied the man they’d pulled out of the canoe. He was staring at the men still left in the canoe, his face a mixture of disbelief and grief.

  Rika made a small sound and turned away from him. She motioned for two of the other nearby hunters to help her with the last men.

  Attu and Rovek reached out to the standing survivor again. The stranger stiffened and tried to take a step on his own, but apparently realizing he couldn’t, he reluctantly lifted his arms again, showing he would accept their help. The man’s long hair was a tangled mess around him, and as Attu slipped his arm under the stranger’s arm, he caught his fingers in the man’s hair, accidently pulling it back, hard. The man winced, but remained silent.

  Attu popped his lips as he caught sight of the man’s right ear.

  “What’s wrong?” Rika asked, looking over her shoulder. “Is he–”

  “Look at his ear,” Attu said. He reached up and pulled the stranger’s hair away from his right ear again, so part of the tip showed.

  Rika gasped. The man took a step backward, almost falling before he regained his balance. His face grew hard as they continued to stare at his ear.

  “Could it be? Do you think?” Rika asked Attu. “Wouldn’t they have all been killed?”

  “What?” Rovek asked. “Is it some sort of old injury?” He studied the man’s ear, his hand slipping to his spirit necklace as he stared at the unusual healed slashes.

  Attu reached up to pull the man’s hair back far
ther. The stranger tried to pull away from Attu, but Rovek held him firmly, and in his weakened state the man couldn’t fight them. Instead, his eyes became like stone. Standing on trembling legs, the stranger glared at them all, as if daring them to try to touch his ear again without being attacked.

  Attu let out a low whistle of admiration for this man’s courage, standing there in defiance when he could barely stand at all.

  “Watch out,” Rovek said, just as the man’s eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed. Rovek caught him and let the proud hunter slip the rest of the way to the ground, unconscious.

  “Farnook!” Rika called above the sound of the waves, motioning for Farnook to join them.

  Farnook turned from the man she was helping and moved to Rika’s side.

  Rika showed Farnook the man’s ear.

  “What about the others?” Farnook asked. “Do they all have the cut ear Clan marks?”

  “We need to check the other survivors,” Attu told Rovek, and they set off to examine the other men, all of whom lay unconscious by the fire now, or on the beach near Nuka.

  “All have the mark,” Rovek said. Attu had called the hunters and women together, explaining what Farnook knew and, hopefully, that Farnook would be able to communicate with the men in their own tongue.

  “If any awaken again,” Yural said. Yural’s face was grave. None of the men had come back to the Here and Now since the stranger Attu and Rovek had pulled from the canoe had briefly stood up to them, only to collapse again. That had been near sun high and now it was late in the day.

  “Please keep trying to give them water,” Rika said. She looked to the women who were caring for the survivors. “Meavu said some are starting to swallow water quite well, even from the Between of unconsciousness.”

  “Perhaps, then, there is still hope.” Yural moved away from the group, raising her hands in prayer to the trysta spirits.

  The women caring for the strangers hurried away from the gathering. Three of the men were burning with fever spirits, and Rika walked up the beach to their shelter to get more ground bark from the white-bark tree. Others moved away to start a meal for the Clan before it grew too dark to see around the cooking fires.