The Kin (48 page)

The reedbed was now their home. The hillside was only a place where they could sleep, away from the night-time sickness of the marsh. Every evening from now on they would choose a different place on the hillside, and try to leave no trace that they had been there. Anyone old enough to control themselves must make dung and pass water out among the reeds, and the mothers must clean up as best they could after their babies.

They were settling down among the unfamiliar rocks when Mana heard someone say, “Be quiet. Listen.”

Her heart stood still. Had the speaker heard a footfall, or the click of a pebble dislodged as unseen figures crept towards them?

No. From north along the promontory came a high, harsh shriek, thrice repeated,
yeek-yeek-yeek
, then a pause and the call again, and yet again, the cry of a moonhawk leaving its nest at nightfall to hunt among the rocks for its prey, the shy little scurriers that came out of their burrows only in the dark.

“She is here,” someone whispered. “She is with us. This is a Moonhawk place.”

Mana knew she was not the only one to feel comforted.

Oldtale

THE WAR OATH

The men of Snake said, “Today we hunt.” Jad was among them. His mate was Meena, from Little Bat. They were new mated. They were happy, happy. All saw their love. It was of this sort:

See this man. He says in his heart, Now I make a cutter. He chooses a good stone. He strikes it thus, and thus. His aim is true. The chips fly from the stone. The edge is sharp, strong, a clean curve. He holds the cutter in his palm. His fingers close round it. Cutter and hand, they are one thing. He is glad, glad
.

Such was the love of Jad for Meena, and of Meena for Jad
.

Meena said, “Jad, I come with you? I see you hunt?”

Jad asked the men. They laughed. They said, “Let her come.”

They came to the deer pastures. They spread apart. Jad said to Meena, “Come behind me, ten paces. Do not be seen.”

The men of Fat Pig lay in wait. Mott was among them. Rage was in his heart. Jad came close. Mott gave no warning. He sprang out upon Jad. He struck him with his digging stick, on the side of the neck. Jad fell. Blood flowed. Mott raised his digging stick for another blow
.

Meena saw this. She ran between the men. Mott did not see, he did not think, his rage filled him. He struck again. His digging stick was sharp, it was heavy. It hit Meena between the breasts. It broke through her ribs. It entered her heart. She fell on Jad's body. They were dead
.

Now the rage left Mott. He saw Jad's body, and Meena's. He did not rejoice. He said in his heart, I have done this thing. It is bad, bad. He dragged the bodies under bushes. He ran from that place
.

The men of Fat Pig saw him. They said, “Mott runs. We run also.”

So they fled
.

The men of Snake rejoiced. They said, “Fat Pig are weak, they are cowards. We are brave and strong. But where is Jad? Where is Meena?”

They searched. They found the bodies of Jad and of Meena. They were filled with rage
.

Ziul was Jad's brother. He said, “Fat Pig did this thing. Now we, Snake, take vengeance. Come.”

They pursued the men of Fat Pig. They came to Sam-Sam, to the cliff of caves. The men of Fat Pig met them. Again they fought. The men of Snake fought better. They struck fierce blows. They killed two. The men of Fat Pig fled
.

The men of Snake rejoiced. They said, “We have vengeance for Jad.”

But Ziul said, “It is not enough. We do not have vengeance for Meena.”

He entered the caves. He found Dilu, Tong's mate. She hid there. She was from Ant Mother. Ziul struck her. She died
.

He returned to the men of Snake. He said, “Rejoice. I have vengeance for Meena.”

The men of Snake did not answer. Shame was in their hearts. They went home
.

The men of Fat Pig said, “We take vengeance for Dilu. But the men of Snake are too strong. We need friends.”

They sent to Ant Mother and to Weaver and to Parrot
.

To Ant Mother they said, “Take vengeance on Snake for Dilu, who was your daughter.”

To Weaver they said, “Sam-Sam is your Place. There Fat Pig killed Dilu, a woman. You are dishonoured.”

To Parrot they said, “You fought Moonhawk in our father's time. We helped you. Now help us.”

The men of Snake said, “Fat Pig send to their friends. They take vengeance on us for Dilu. Let us send also, to Little Bat, and to Crocodile and to Moonhawk.”

To Little Bat they said, “Fat Pig killed Meena, who was your daughter. Take vengeance upon them.”

To Crocodile they said, “Ant Mother fights against us. Yellowspring is their Place. You want it. Now help us. We beat them. You take Yellowspring. It is yours.”

To Moonhawk they said, “Parrot fights against us. You have blood debts to settle. Help us. We help you.”

The Kins spoke among themselves. Some men did not want this. They said, “Mott did this, and Ziul. Let Mott be given to Snake. Let them kill him. Let Ziul be given to Fat Pig. Let them kill him. It is finished.”

These men were few
.

Other men said, “Let us fight. Let us go to Odutu. Let us swear the War Oath.”

These men were many
.

So all gathered to Odutu. First came Snake and Fat Pig. They laid their hands upon the rock. They swore the war oath. The others watched. They said, “Tomorrow we too swear. It is war.”

CHAPTER FOUR

For ten and two more long days they saw no sign of the murderous strangers. There were two lookouts, one on either side of the ridge, each with its own signal stone. Morning after morning Mana crouched at one of them, scanning the now familiar hillside for the faintest flicker of movement. Her tension never lessened. She knew in her heart the enemy would be back in the end, and if they weren't spotted far off there would be no time for everyone to hide, and then there would be fighting and slaughter. However bravely the Kin fought, if the attackers came in too great numbers, then Moonhawk and all the other Kins would be gone for ever. The demon men would kill all the males—Tun, Suth, Tor, Ko, and the others, even little Ogad—while the women and girls—Yova and Noli, Bodu, Tinu, Mana herself, all of them—would be taken away to become the mates of these demon men, and bear their demon children.

Perhaps Moonhawk would send a warning, as she'd done before. Perhaps not. You could never tell with First Ones.

So Mana watched unwavering, with Ko on the other side of the ridge, doing the same. They took turn and turn about, so that they didn't become stale with watching the same hillside all the time. They were alone.

If Mana was on the western flank and looked down to the marsh, she could see nothing of her friends. But she knew they were there, cutting the main path further and further across the mudbank, or side paths and blind alleys to confuse anyone who didn't know the way. Out there, somewhere, the precious fire was burning, but she could see no sign of it through the haze, and smelt no whiff of smoke.

If she was on the other flank and looked down she would see a few people foraging along the shoreline, or perhaps coming or going along one of the paths that led to a fishing hole. If an attack came while they were there, there would be no time for them to climb and cross the ridge and reach the safety of their main hideout. So they had cut another path here, also hidden at the entrance, and with its own maze of traps and side turnings. If danger threatened they could hide there. At least two of the men were always there to defend the path if they had to.

Like everything else, this was dangerous, but they were forced to take the risk because there was so little food of any kind on the western shore, and their main path had not yet reached the far side of the great mudbank to an area of water where they could fish.

At midday Tinu and Shuja came stealthily up from the western marsh to take over lookout, and Mana and Ko, watching every step they took, crept back down the hill. By then Mana's head would throb and her eyes would be sore with endlessly gazing at the rock-strewn slope, lit by the glaring sun.

Somebody was down at the shore, waiting for the moment that the pale rock by the lookout vanished, signalling that the enemy had been seen. Ko and Mana greeted the watcher and then, at a particular point in the great tangle of reeds along the shoreline, lifted a broken mass of stems and crawled into the gap beneath them, and on for several more paces along a twisting tunnel, until they reached the path. There were three such entrances, so that everyone out in the open could get quickly into cover.

The path itself twisted to and fro to make it harder to see from the hillside. Twice in that first stretch they stopped and, instead of going straight on—those were blind alleys—sidled between reedstems to where the real path continued beyond.

On the third day, just beyond the second of these places, they found Net and Var toiling away, with sweat streaming from their bodies in the steamy heat. They had cleared the cut reeds from the floor of the path and were using their digging sticks to loosen the mud beneath.

“Var, what do you do?” asked Ko.

“We make a trap,” said Var. “It is Tinu's thought. See, we make the mud soft …”

He stepped onto the patch he had been working on. Immediately his leg started to sink.

“We finish,” he went on. “We put the reeds back. We walk on them. This is safe. But demon men come. They find our path. We run. We cross here. We take reeds away. We wait this side. Demon men come. They walk on the mud. They sink. We fight them with digging sticks. They are in the mud. This is good for us.”

The men went back to their work, and Ko and Mana made their way on.

By now the path had reached what had once been an island, with trees and bushes growing on it. Most of these had died in the drought, so there was good fuel for the fire, as well as a safer place for it to burn without setting fire to the whole vast reedbed.

This was now their daytime lair. By the time the children reached it most of the others would have gathered there for their midday rest and meal, but as soon as they'd finished eating they all went back to work. Mana helped with whatever needed doing—collecting fuel, preparing food, laying and firming reeds in the pathways or searching for birds' nests, and for insect bait for fishing. As the sun dipped towards the horizon everyone except the lookouts gathered again on the island for their evening meal.

This was scanty for the first few days, with most of them either on watch or working desperately to make their hideout secure, and to drive the path to the far side of the mudbank, where they could fish in safety. This left only a few of them to fish among the eastern reeds and forage along that shore. But they ate what they had and were glad of it.

Then, as dusk fell, moving as carefully as ever, they came ashore and climbed to wherever Tun had chosen for them to lair. Mana at first dreaded these times, and knew that she was not the only one to do so. The moon was small, and the nights were very dark. The dark belonged to the demons. Everyone knew that. That was why, however hot the season, and whether or not there was food to cook, when the Kin made a fresh camp the first thing they always did was to light a fire, so that they could sleep in its friendly glow and know that the demons would be afraid to come too near.

But they could have no fire now, with its flame farseen in the night and its betraying ash left on this hillside in the morning. They were forced to sleep in the dark, and from time to time Mana would wake, tense with terror, and hear a small one whimper or an adult sigh, and know that someone else was awake too, and as afraid as she was.

But then, from north along the promontory, she would hear one of the moonhawks call. These were just a pair of ordinary moonhawks, each hunting in turn, while the other one fed the chicks with what it had just caught, but hearing that cry Mana would sense that Moonhawk herself was hovering near her in the dark, ready to warn, ready to guard the last of her Kin. Then she would master her fear and sleep again.

The maze of paths and traps was almost finished. The moon grew half large, and still there was no sign of the demon men. Mana heard the adults discussing whether they were going to come back at all. Var, of course, was sure that they would, and Kern just as sure they wouldn't. The others' opinions were in between.

“Hear me,” said Tun at last. “They come, they do not come, who knows? But we say in our hearts,
They come
. This is best. Every day we are careful, careful. The moon grows big. It grows small again. Then we decide. I, Tun, say this.”

So they didn't relax their watch, but went about their business as if an attack might come that very day. Though they had reached the further side of the mudbank, the fishing there turned out to be disappointing, so several of them still returned to their old fish holes on the eastern side. When there was nothing more for her to do around the island lair Mana asked Suth if she could go and join them after she'd finished her stint on lookout.

She caught nothing on her first afternoon, but two nice little fish on the second. On the third afternoon the tiddlers had found the bait and started to feed, and she was waiting eagerly for something larger to nose into view, when she heard from the shoreline the whistling call of a small brown bird.

Mana laid her fishing stick down and waited, holding her breath. The bird had been common in the New Good Places on the southern side of the marsh, but nobody had seen it here. That was why they had chosen its call.

Again the bird called, but this time, listening for it, she could tell that it wasn't a real bird. Kern, on guard at the entrance to the hidden path, had seen the signal stone disappear above the eastern lookout, and had given the danger signal. The watcher there had seen someone or something approaching from the north.