Godborn Page 3

  Holkis did not know what to say but found himself repeating something Gendryon always said. “We must all accept our fate.”

  “So says a boy whose fate is to live to see spring.”

  “What can I do? There is nothing I can do.”

  “Take me to another clan.”

  He turned to look at her then. “You are mad.”

  “Why? You must raid to survive and so you will prey on another clan soon, somewhere. Take me with you until then and leave me with them.”

  “We may stay here for the rest of winter.”

  “You do not wish to.”

  “My koryonos does.”

  “But you can control him. I have seen it. You will change his will to yours.”

  Holkis shook his head. “Even if we did run from here you could not keep up with us. We run for days.”

  “I can run.”

  “And no clan will take in a stranger.” It was dishonest to say it because he knew no clan would reject a healthy girl on the verge of womanhood.

  “I know all the clans. My father was strong and knew many chiefs.” Her voice broke as she said the words. “There are others who would shelter me. Even your clan. Your father would give me sanctuary. When you return to your people, take me with you.”

  “That is not for another moon from now. How can I protect you for so long?”

  “Your father would be pleased by it.”

  “I should not even be speaking with you. We are a koryos. None should see my face or hear my voice until I return to the clan.”

  “You could take me near to your winter camp and send me in alone. That would be allowed, would it not? It is not far from here, I know. East, downriver to where our river meets yours. It is a three or four day ride.”

  Holkis began to put an arm around her shoulders before he caught himself. “Tell me the truth now,” he said softly. “You did not see demons, did you?”

  She looked up, her eyes glinting from the shadow of her face. “They came through so swiftly up the valley out of the mists at dawn, like a nightmare come into the world. But I know what I saw. Yes, they were demons.” She shivered again.

  “They came from the east,” Holkis repeated, a chill taking him also and his heart began to race. “From downriver. Your river runs into the Kweitos River. And you said they were driving captives and herds when they came?”

  She nodded, watching him closely. “Hundreds of them.”

  Holkis stood, staring into the darkness to the east while the wind howled. “My clan.”

  3. Outsider

  As the rim of the sun came up above the horizon, all twelve boys of the koryos stood at the edge of the woodland and looked to Belolukos, their koryonos. Holkis had explained to them what the girl had said, demons and all.

  Although they were not entirely convinced, even Bel looked worried. “These raiders could have come into this valley from anywhere,” he argued.

  “True enough,” Holkis agreed. “But what if they came from our vale? We must follow the tracks back along the route and find out if they attacked our people.”

  “We cannot return to the clan before the Great Sacrifice,” Belolukos said.

  Holkis felt the eyes of the others turn to him, expecting him to argue or at least to disagree. It was his place to accept the word of the koryonos but Holkis could not hold his tongue.

  “It is as you say. And yet they may have suffered a raid as severe as this one.” He waved a spear at the camp. “The koryos must survive but they must also protect the clan.”

  “From outside of it. If we return now we will have failed. You want to live the rest of your life as a wolf, Holkis?”

  “No.”

  “Do any of you?”

  They looked back in silence.

  Dhomyos scuffed a foot against the earth and shrugged his broad shoulders. “Let us look from afar, Bel? Without returning to the clan.”

  “We will be seen,” Belolukos said.

  “We are wolves,” Holkis replied. “We are the dead. The ancestors are within us. None of the living shall see.”

  Belolukos jabbed his spear toward the distant girl. “What about her?”

  “She is not of our clan. She means nothing.”

  Belolukos wiped a hand across his mouth. “If she means nothing, I shall take her.”

  Sighing, Holkis looked up at the lightening sky. “She is a seeress, Bel. To defile her would be an affront to the gods.”

  Bel snorted. “You would know.” He looked out over the camp and at the wide trail of strange tracks beside the river. “We cannot go home before the time. It has never been done.”

  Holkis knew that his brother was thinking of his future as the chief of the clan. Gendryon was the chief and Bel would take his place in time, as long as he did everything he was supposed to do. He had to learn the lore, the stories of the clan, and he had to follow and perform and maintain the rites precisely as he had learnt them. More than this, he would have to win wealth through raiding. If he did all this, he might become leader. It was the way of things.

  There was little that could stand in his way, other than the disfavour of the gods and if another man was better, more suitable. In their generation, there was only Holkis who might conceivably do so. But he was not an ordinary youth and the clan had always been unsure about what he meant for them. He could be a great leader or he could lead them to destruction. And if he did not lead, what would his role be? Could Belolukos rule as chief while another man was stronger?

  “A koryos returning before its time has never been done,” Holkis said. “But neither has there been a raid such as this in the land.”

  Belolukos scowled. “This story of demons is a lie. She is a liar and so she is no seer. This was a raid by a strong clan.”

  “What about the tracks?” Kasos asked.

  “We don’t know what they are. No, we go on as we were. We must find cattle or sheep to see us through the next moon but we can winter here until it is time to return for the Great Sacrifice.”

  “What of the raiders?” Dhomyos asked. “They might find us.”

  Belolukos scowled. “We are wolves. We know no fear.”

  “We should bury the bodies of the slain,” Kasos said. “We cannot live here while they pollute the earth. It must be cleansed.”

  “The ground is too hard to bury them,” Dhomyos said. “Let’s throw them in the river.”

  “But that would pollute our clan downstream,” Holkis replied.

  “That is so far away,” Kasos said, waving his hand. “Days away from here.”

  “And we shall not waste our strength and our days in burying strangers,” Bel said. “We will put the dead into the waters and the river will carry them off. Then we shall cut all the good meat that remains and dry it and smoke it. We have much to do today so let it be done.”

  A few eyes glanced at Holkis but he did not challenge his brother. He had sworn an oath to Kolnos the wolf god, to the ancestors, and to their mother to obey Belolukos. Breaking it would not only anger the gods but would shame him before his ancestors and risk his place in his clan. Holkis looked at the girl across the camp.

  “I know your concern is for mother,” Belolukos said as the others moved away. “But you need not worry. Gendryon is there and he will protect her and the clan. He always has.”

  “Yes,” Holkis said. “What of the seeress?”

  “She will stay in her house, alone. She may relight the fire and tend the hearth all the while that we are here. If she has not been defiled as she claims, the goddess will keep her safe. Besides, it is not for us to protect anyone but each other, is it, Holkis?”

  “No, koryonos. I will speak to her and we shall clear the bodies of the slain.”

  Belolukos nodded. “Do it swiftly, brother. Do not tarry overlong with the girl. I see how you look at her.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Holkis said and Belolukos laughed as he turned away.

  Holkis found the seeress standing in the
dying grass by the river. She crouched by the body of a man. A wreath of woven stalks lay upon his chest but it could not hide the great wound that had been punched through him. A hole as large as a man’s hand spread wide. Worse still was the man’s head, or what was left of it. It had been cleaved in two and crushed. The smell of decay was strong.

  “Who was he?”

  “My father.”

  Holkis looked at the man’s clothing and his broad shoulders and the scars on his hands and well-muscled forearms. He should have known that this was Hartkos because the swirling designs of his tattoos showed he was a leader and a priest.

  “He died defending his clan,” Holkis said. “It is time to send him on his way.”

  She looked up. “We will bury him there, on the high ground above the flood plain.”

  Holkis shook his head. “There is no time. We must preserve what we can today or we will starve before midwinter. Your father cannot lie here so he must go into the waters.”

  She stared. “We must not. He was the chief of this clan, he was not some old herder you can throw away.”

  “And yet we must.”

  “I will not allow it.”

  “We will return to this place after our raid and it must not be polluted.”

  “His ancestors will be angry. They will haunt this place, they will haunt you.”

  “My ancestors protect me. His have no one now. His line is ended.”

  “They have me. They will fill me with their wrath.”

  Holkis shook his head. “You are a woman. A girl. Their wrath cannot live through you.”

  “I feel them in me even now.”

  He looked at the dead man at his feet. “We shall dig a grave at the edge of the camp where the ground is soft. Will that assuage your ancestors?”

  She looked at her father’s ruined body. “As long as we treat him well,” she said.

  When he stooped to pick up the body, he turned his face away and still the stench of death almost overcame him. Chunks of rotting flesh fell from the man’s wounds and his brains slid out in pieces as he walked through the mud to the outskirts of the camp beyond the last of the tents. The mud under foot was crusted with ice and the long grasses crunched as he walked. He laid the body down and they hacked at the ground with spades that the girl brought until they had a shallow grave with brown water in the bottom. Picking up the remains, he lowered them into the damp earth and climbed out, his legs caked in sticky mud.

  “You wish to speak the words?” he asked her as they looked down at the ruined body.

  She nodded. “I will do so alone and cover him. First I must find a spear and an axe for him.”

  Relieved, he took up his spear. “I will help my brothers be rid of the rest of your people now.”

  “What about your own people?” She said without looking at him. “You know where the demons came from and you will abandon your clan when they might need you?”

  “It is none of your concern.”

  “You are my concern,” she replied. “You will protect me.”

  “No.”

  “You have protected me. You protect me still.”

  He grew angry. “What do you expect me to do for you? I cannot claim you, I am on a koryos. I cannot marry you, I am not a man and you are not a woman. You must stay here and tend the hearth. Cut wood by day and keep the fire burning.”

  “And if your koryonos decides not to take me home with you when you go, what happens to me then? I will starve to death.”

  “Perhaps. If you wish, I could kill you before we go. It would be swift, at least.”

  She shivered and looked at his spear. “How many people have you killed before?”

  “None.”

  “How many women have you lain with?”

  “None.”

  She nodded. “You have not been raiding long, then?”

  “Half the year since the spring rites. We have hunted, taken cattle and sheep, taken weapons and tools and clothes from other clans in the night. Next year, we will join all the unmarried men of the clan and go on a great war raid, likely to the west. Then it will be time for me to kill my first man, take my own cattle, and return to be welcomed as a man of my clan. Then I will take a wife.”

  “You must become chief.”

  He looked at her closely. She had been a seeress for her people, reading the signs in the entrails of sacrifices and in the flight of birds and the ever-changing skies. Not all seers were equal, however, and she was young. “You said so before. Have you seen this?”

  “I see it now. You have the strength to be chief. The other does not.”

  “My brother will be a fine chief.”

  “If you share the same blood then why should it not be you?”

  He shook his head. “We share the same mother. We were born from the same womb, on the same day. But we do not share the same father.”

  “I do not understand,” she said. “Which father is the chief?”

  Holkis almost smiled. “Neither. The man we have always called pater is the father of neither of us. My mother is Alkmene, daughter of Elektryon, son of Perseyus.”

  “Perseyus? The godborn?” She frowned. “If Perseyus is truly your ancestor, how is it then that you are merely Kweitos Clan?”

  Holkis shook his head. “My mother, when she was first married—”

  A cry of fear from upriver. A shout of anger followed and the clashing of spear shafts.

  He looked up to see his brothers running from different directions in the camp toward a single point by the edge of the woodland.

  An attack.

  Without a thought, he ran toward the sound. As he ran, he saw beyond the camp a commotion in the shadow of the trees. A fight, he was sure of it, spears being wielded and cries of warning and terror and anger.

  Ahead of him, Dhomyos ran as fast as he could along the churned-up tracks. Holkis overtook him and as he passed the last of the tents he saw all the way to the edge of the wood.

  There, a strange man fought his spear-brothers.

  Just one man fighting five of the koryos.

  One of them was down, lying still in the mud, possibly dead.

  Belolukos fought furiously with his spear but the strange man was big and he was faster and stronger than any of them, knocking their weapons aside as he danced around them, defending himself.

  When he came into range, Holkis considered throwing his spear at a distance but did not wish to hit one of his own. He overtook the running Kasos so swiftly it was as though the smaller youth was standing still.

  Just ahead of him, the strange man ripped Belolukos’ spear from his hand, smacked the koryonos in the side of the face with his spear shaft and stepped forward to drive his spear into his chest.

  Holkis dropped his own spear to the ground within Belolukos’ reach and tackled the big man to the ground. He was running at such speed that the impact was terrible, jarring his shoulder and sending them both flying before they smacked into the earth. Holkis rammed his elbow into the man’s face and then wrapped his arms around him, pinning his arms to his side. The man roared and struggled but Holkis held tight.

  “Yes, hold him!” Belolukos shouted as he aimed a spear point and readied a thrust into his chest.

  “No!” Holkis said, twisting and heaving the man aside and away from the blow before it fell.

  “What are you doing?” Bel said, raising his spear again. “He tried to kill us.”

  Holkis’ heart throbbed in his chest and his breath was gone. More than that, his legs felt weak and his head felt light enough to float away on the wind. Sucking down mouthfuls of air, he shook his head while the man struggled. “Kill him after.” He gritted his teeth as he sucked in more cold air, burning his chest. “Find out who he is first.”

  Bel was filled with rage and he would have done it anyway but Kasos rushed to his side and put a hand on his arm.

  “He dies after,” Belolukos said, stepping closer and stamping his heel down on the man’s head.

>   It did not render him unconscious but it knocked the fight out of him. Holkis felt the fire going out, as if the spirit had slipped out of his body.

  “I’ll let you go,” Holkis said into his ear. “But if you fight, I’ll kill you.”

  The man shook his head, which Holkis took for ascent. He pushed him away as he stood, and the man fell over to lie panting in the mud beneath the trees. For all his size, he was thin and underfed. The man had a big skull, and big hands and heavy bones but the flesh on them was all but gone so the muscles of his legs and arms stood out like twisted cordage. His tunic was almost black with filth and the bearskin cloak over it was caked in mud. His hair was long and unkempt, as was his beard. From his appearance along with the man’s skill with his spear, Holkis understood at once what he was.

  In every clan, in every generation, there were some men who never left the koryos. Just like the youths, they never cut or combed their hair and stayed devoted to Kolnos the wolf god for their entire lives. Or until such time as they decided to finally give it up and become a member of their clan. Some men might remain as a wolf because they never won enough cattle to do so but such men were never respected. Most said that they felt the wolf god was not ready to let them go. Kasos said they simply liked raiding too much to ever settle for the clan life of managing their herds, raising children, performing the rites and only raiding on some years and only during the time permitted for it. And so they lived like wolves, usually leading the koryos during the great raids of the young men and teaching them all they needed to learn, year after year. Such men were necessary for the koryos, and so for the clan as a whole, but they were not fully part of the clan. If anything, they were feared for the violence and wildness that was inherent to them as wolves. Holkis had always believed that was what his clan expected of him when his time came. They wanted him outside the clan, that much was obvious, and Bel wanted it most of all.