Paleolithic exiles an.., p.1
Paleolithic - Exiles: An epic prehistoric action-adventure, page 1
PALEOLITHIC EXILES
Elegy of Dirt and Bones 2
by
Copyright © 2022
S.A. Adams
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or actual places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblances to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Chapter One - Harq
Harq led the nine hunters single file up the craggy foothills. Snow-topped mountain peaks rose above them, visible through the canopy of cedars. He paused every few moments with annoyance. Wolf people were slow, and they made too much noise. A clumsy foot caused a twig to snap, making him turn and glare. Guilt-ridden faces greeted him. He discerned who the perpetrator was. A Samaki woman, for she had the look of embarrassment. Reading the wolf people’s expressions was easier now. Ever since escaping the Gondo-Var camp several moon cycles ago, they’d stayed close. Now their faces were as familiar as family.
The mishmash of a hunting party looked at him with nervous anticipation. No doubt they worried he would break from the group, disappearing to go about the hunt on his own. He had done so frequently, and wished he could now. But not this time. This time, the creature they hunted needed every man and woman, anyone that could chuck a spear. They’d seen the creature’s signs—scratches on the trunks of the boreal trees and mounds of foul-smelling scat. Harq met their nervous stares with a mixture of irritation and sympathy. If these would have been his people, they’d have found the beast by now.
A downhill gust blasted their faces, and Harq caught the faint line of cold tears stream down Sira’s face. She’d never been a buxom woman like his own kind. Thin-framed and sprightly, he reminded Harq of a long-legged gazelle. Even more so now, for her body held no fat. Cold tears caused by the wind streamed down her gaunt face, dripping from her sharpened jawline. Sira blinked them from her eyes and set taught her jaw. A cloud of vapor released from her nostrils as she exhaled. Down the line of hunters, similar vapor clouds arose. Winded already. Only a few moon cycles ago, they would have jogged up this mountain. Now they had to deep dig into their energy reserves just to hike it.
They resumed their march up the slope. Gazing through the ancient trees that resembled dark goliaths. Harq silently cursed the volcanic discharge. It stubbornly clung to their skies like a dappled-gray fur. With the sun blocked overhead, winter had become their fiercest enemy.
Reaching a rock ledge, Harq held up his hand. The nine hunters came to a stop, doing their best to calm their breathing. Harq motioned for Sira. He leaned forward, bracing his hand on the thin blade of her shoulder. “Den close. They sleep.” He made the hand-signal of the animal they stalked. Cave bear. Sira’s face lit up. She showed no fear, only anticipation. His own face remained stoic, although his eyes seem to hold his last words with a question. A dangerous hunt, are you sure?
It was her decision. Ever since escaping the Gondo-Var valley, she had become their de facto leader. Sira placed her forehead against his. Her fingers found the spaces between his ribs. “We need this,” she whispered back.
He did not disagree. It’d been days since they encountered any game other than the carcasses of starved-dead grazers. However, the bears and scavengers were growing fat. Giving another hand signal, they moved forward.
Many paces later, they arrived at another rock ledge, this one pock-marked with cave shelters. Harq studied each one until he stopped at a hole that looked promising. Frozen pine needles and branches littered the entrance. Poking his face dangerously close to the dark opening, he sniffed the air while the hunters watched from a safe distance. If he spooked the bear too early, a surprise slash of claws might remove his entire face. But if they were careful, if they set up the perfect condition to make the kill, the bear meat, fat, and organs would be excellent nourishment. Bear fat was an invaluable substance, used for many applications, and the fur would provide much needed warmth.
Harq sniffed once more before stepping back as quiet as a field mouse. His signal to the band told them what they needed to know. Sira took over from there, giving the signal to form parallel lines around the entrance. She climbed up onto the ledge above. They had come to the part of the hunt Harq hated most—the flushing.
The hunters erupted into screams and shouts. Ululations and howls, a mixture of different yells with varying pitches. They screamed and yelled until their throats became sore, but nothing in the den stirred. Sira’s questioning eyes met Harq’s. He gave her a shrug in response. Surely, the bear was awake by now. Either it was slow because of its lowered metabolism, or it was hesitant to leave the safety of its den, but eventually, it would break. This was their preferred method of hunting bear. Usually, the bears broke from the den in a panic. You could pepper the animal with spears and arrows, wearing it down enough to be tracked. Of course, every so often, you came across a bear that didn’t flee. Harq whispered words of encouragement in his language. “Run, bear. Run.”
As the moments passed, Harq realized his words would go unanswered. It was going to be one of those kinds of bears. They could still call off the hunt, move away and hope to find some other game. Because even for nine hunters, the short-faced cave bear was nothing less than a monster.
Harq glanced at Sira again. Her previous assuredness seemed visibly shaken, but she nodded her head again to continue. Harq picked up a large rock and hurled it into the den. He filled his lungs and let loose one of his mighty howls, straight into the dark hole. As if an explosion was imminent, he stepped back.
Pliny and Jin had arrows nocked into their bows. They had experimented over the last few months with the new weapon, every iteration improving the power of its predecessor. It now rivaled the force of one of their curved atlatl spear throwers, but with better accuracy at range.
Something stirred in the den. A series of breathy huffs sounded, then jaw-popping. That was its warning. Something mewed with a shrill cry, followed by another. Harq’s eyes widened. A mother and two cubs. What a mountain of necessary nourishment and materials these creatures could provide.
She came out like an explosion. The entrance hole had eroded since she first entered, so her violent exit blasted dirt and moss into their faces. She stood up on her hind legs to look more impressive, jaws opening wide and bellowing in a guttural growl. The thick vapor of its breath did not hide its finger long canines. On all fours, she was as taller than a buffalo. Her length and width rivalled even that of the wholly rhinoceros.
To their credit, the battle-hardened hunters stood their ground. In full survival mode, their hunger surpassed their fear. Their screams and yells seem to raise even higher, hoping the number of people and noise would be enough to send her fleeing.
“Throw!” Sira shouted from above. At once, the hunters unleashed their arsenal. No one missed such a large target. When the bear’s display did not send the attackers fleeing, she dropped back down onto all fours, giving her body a violent shake as if she’d been wet. This caused most of the projectiles to fall out of her thick fur. She focused on a single target and charged. Sira threw her spear from above, contacting the back of its neck. But the damage wasn’t nearly enough. The unlucky hunter of the bear’s ire dove to the ground, curling into a fetal position and attempting to protect his head. The bear batted the man with a furious swipe, breaking his guard and sending him sprawling. By then, the hunters reloaded. A fresh volley of spears and arrows flew into the bear’s side. It only caused her more anger, and it rushed towards the sprawled man with a speed shocking for its size. Still dizzy and bloodied from the first slash, the man lay defenseless. His head disappeared into the creature’s mouth, following by a horrible crunch.
The hunters tightened their semi-circle around her. A third round of projectiles hit the creature at closer range, making her drop her victim. The sight of eleven humans standing together and screaming was finally enough to trigger its flight mode. It broke into a gallop, bounding over a small pile of fallen brush.
Harq reacted first, jumping over the bushes with the agility of a mountain goat. Sira’s shouts for him to wait went ignored. If he waited for the wolf-people, they might never catch it again.
He heard her shouting orders to follow. “Group one, with me! Group two, take the cubs!”
~~./.~~
He tracked the bear down the slope, into the thicker forest where fallen timber littered the piney floor. It offered plenty of cover for the fleeing creature. Once inside the dense woods, Harq slowed to a walk. There was no longer a need to run. The droplets of dark red liquid on the ground told Harq at least one spear had struck well. Rushing forward would leave him vulnerable if the bear turned to stand its ground. Eventually, it would do exactly that.
He hesitated at a wall of brambles that grew up around several fallen trees. The vine-like brush had dried out for winter, but they still held their sharp thorns. There was no other direction the bear could have gone. Inside, under the fallen trees, was an i
Opting to climb on top of the fallen trees, he hoisted himself up at one end. The snake-like vines bit at his exposed calves like a viper’s fangs. He balanced on the jumble of crisscrossed fallen trees, trying to peer between the shadows of the dead wood. Sira and the first group arrived at the wall of bramble brush. “Harq!” she shouted.
He held his finger to his lips to remain quiet, then pointed downwards. Sira’s face lit with recognition. She gave the hand signals to the other hunters, pointing to the underbrush.
“Harq?” shouted another voice from behind him. He turned to see Pliny and Jin. Leave it to them two to have already found a way around the fallen trees. Pliny’s shout caused a deep rumble in the brush underneath. A few jaw clicks sounded in warning. Harq motioned for Pliny and Jin to climb up onto the trees from the other side. From here, they would lance into the brush, hoping to drive it towards the hunters again.
Harq searched the dancing shadows under his feet, probing the spaces with spear thrusts. Pliny and Jin had arrows nocked and ready. One of Harq’s thrusts connected with something soft and fleshy. A fierce roar made the very timber tremble. The trees under their feet lurched, sending Plint and Jin onto their backs. Harq stepped back to regain his balance, but his foot fell through a space between the wood. A slash of claws ripped his calf. He roared in pain before removing his leg from the hole.
Pliny and Jin were back on their feet and moved to the hole, firing arrows at point blank range. The bear had taken enough abuse; and it exited the bramble with a shatter of thorn brush. Cornered, it stood up again and roared. Blood dripped down its underside, matting its thick winter fur. The hunters volleyed, taking advantage of the exposed underbelly.
The bear dropped awkwardly. Its forelegs lost balance, collapsing headfirst. It tried to roll itself upright, but it had lost too much blood now. The bravest of them got close enough to spear for its heart. A few moments later, one of the most dangerous creatures in their world lay vanquished.
They assisted Harq down from the collapsed trees, and Sira tried to stay calm at the sight of the injury. Blood poured down his calf, where two of the bear’s claws ripped his muscle open. No medicine man was present in their small band. Their knowledge of healing such an injury might stop the bleeding, but there was always the risk of the wound rotting and catching the fever. A cruel and malevolent spirit, the fever was mysterious as it was deadly.
Harq limped to the giant carcass of the bear, placing his hand on its head, even as blood continued to flow down and stain his foot wraps. Sira came to his side, wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him. “Harq, you’re hurt. Get off your feet. We can make a sling and carry you back,” she said.
He ignored her concern. The hymn of the kill was more important, even above one’s own safety. “We thank you for giving us your life. We shall honor you, bear mother. Your life gives us life.”
Pliny and Jin brushed their hands down the side of the bear’s fur in awe. The last time they hunted such a creature, they had been a pair of skinny young boys. On that day, they only helped in stalking the creature, forced to watch from afar as their fathers made the kill. The anticipation of the delicate meat showed in their expressions. Pliny stroked his fingers through the bear’s thick brown fur. “From dirt to bones, and bones to dirt,” he chanted.
A Samaki man named Kessem scoffed. “I thought that chant is to honor fallen hunters, not prey.”
Sira looked at Pliny, whose face still held the magnificent creature in rapture. Without a doubt, the creature had been a worthy adversary. She straightened her back and mimicked Pliny, placing a hand on the bear’s head. “She has killed Ert. But she gave him an honorable death. From dirt to bones…and bones to dirt,” Sira repeated. The hunters gathered around her, chanting the elegy once again.
Harq chuckled, shaking his head at the words as he usually did. The meaning eluded him, despite several attempts at an explanation. Pliny gazed down and Harq’s bloody leg. “Either you are made of stone, or your people feel pain differently from us,” he said.
“I am fine. I walk. I no want you carry me like baby,” he said.
Sira responded by taking him by the shoulders and pulling him to the ground. “There is a time to be proud and a time to listen. You are injured, and we are going to carry you back to camp,” she said.
Harq made to protest, but Kessem spoke first. “The hunt leader has spoken, Harq,” he said with a grin.
Harq grumbled to himself but did not stand up again. He watched with slight annoyance as the men cut enough branches to construct a travois. Pliny and Sira used their obsidian knives to strip pieces of extra leather to make bandages.
Sira glanced up in the direction in which they’d come. “Pliny, go check the others. See if they have made their kill. We will need more hands to clean and prepare this giant.”
“Right,” he said.
She turned to look at the bear. Her stomach growled at the thought of the fatty meat. “Let’s clean this one before I die of hunger.”
Chapter Two - Sira
The sun disappeared behind the eastern mountain peaks by the time the animal was skinned and butchered. They made camp at the base of the fallen trees, setting up their tents and using the dead wood as a buffer to the wind. Some of them got to work removing the thorn brush to clear a space for the campfire. Others had dug a grave a few paces away for Ert. They had yet to bury the man.
From an empty auroch horn, Sira poured out a mixture of dried grass and dung that was still smoking hot from the glowing ember underneath. She fanned it and added dried thorns until flames jumped to life.
“Finally…” Kessem said, with a tone that was increasingly getting on Sira’s nerves. “I thought we might have to eat this bear raw.”
“Why don’t you join Harq? He got into the liver already,” Sira said.
“Savage,” the man mumbled to himself.
“What was that?”
Kessem did not answer, but turned his back with slight disrespect.
“If you wish to speak your grievance, do it now, in front of everyone,” she said. The band paused whatever it was they were doing. Kessem gazed into the faces of those around him as if to judge whether they would support him. His insolence might finally be reaching its maximum. He was ready to challenge her.
Sira’s pity over the man was wearing thin. She kept telling herself to be patient. Kessem had been through so much. Everyone had. Present when the Gondo-Var raided the Samaki village, he’d lost his wife and daughter. Unlike many Samaki, he’d actually gone looking for vengeance, leaving his coastal home and following the Gondo-Var into the mountains. He was a brave man, unafraid to rush headfirst into the Gondo-Var camp, splitting heads with his hefty stone axe until they brought him down. But he never got the chance, for the long, dark cave entrance to the valley had stopped him. He wandered the foothills for days, overcome with grief until he met Sira and her band. Since then, anger was the only thing that filled his bottomless hole of melancholy.
Kassem spoke his grievance through the light brown curls of his growing beard. “We should feel joy for this kill today. We should enjoy the taste of the meat. But a few meals won’t stop our growing hunger. With each moon cycle, we grow thinner. Every day, the land becomes more difficult. We have met no one in these broken mountains, no clans to ally with. How long shall we continue? Following this bentiti will only lead to our deaths!”
