“They think they are safe. See? The four Cohort are spread out, and look as if they will walk right past the Frighteneds, who will hide in the gap between the advancing hunters. But the Cohort know they are there, and they are sweeping in from behind, coming up on each side. It is a trap.” Wolves sometimes did something similar, splitting into pairs on either side of their prey, but usually not until a hoofed animal took flight.

  “What do we do?” one of his men whispered tensely.

  “Do?” Brach replied in soft scorn.

  “We could run, draw off the Cohort,” the man argued.

  “For a family of Frighteneds?” another spat scornfully.

  “Then the Cohort would come to hunt us,” Silex replied. “The Frightened are large and powerful. They can defend themselves without our help.”

  But the attack, when it came, was brief and unimaginably brutal. With a shrill, inhuman sound, the Cohort advanced from all sides. The Frighteneds raised their weapons but the Cohort struck with shocking effect. The male went down first, surrounded. The Cohort turned on the older children, viciously pounding their heads even as they dropped their clubs and cowered. Their mother screamed as her toddler was ripped from her arms and thrown to the ground and stomped. And then, grinning fiercely, the Cohort surrounded the woman, pushing her down. She twisted, sobbing, as they pinned her arms and ripped off her skirt, flipping her onto her pregnant belly so the first one could have her.

  “We go,” Silex said, sickened. “We go now.”

  They snaked backward in the grass until they were far enough away to stand without being seen, and then they ran, all of them wanting to put the grisly slaughter behind them.

  “Why do they do that?” Brach asked Silex later, when the two of them were off by themselves. Brach’s face was still pale and sweaty—none of the men had wanted to eat when it came to be mealtime.

  “The Cohort? I do not know,” Silex said. “They have always been a murderous people. And there is another question.”

  “Another question?”

  “There was a time when the Cohort came out of their valley and attacked anyone they came across, but for several years they have not been seen.” Silex gave his friend a searching look. “Is it starting again?”

  * * *

  Palloc found Calli at the family fire, watching indulgently as her son Dog wrestled and played with Ligo, his four-year-old friend. The two were well matched—despite being one summer younger, Dog was as tall as the other boy.

  “We need to get away from here,” Palloc informed her. “Take some food; we will spend the day out and return as darkness is settling.”

  Calli frowned at him. “What? Where were you yesterday?” She struggled to her feet, one arm crooked under her pregnant belly. “Whew.”

  “Dog!” Palloc commanded. “We are going downstream for the day.”

  “Good!” Dog shouted exultantly. Whatever they were doing, it sounded as if it would be grand fun—and for Dog, it probably would be. “Can Ligo come?” he asked eagerly as the two boys rushed up.

  “No.”

  The two boys looked at each other as if they had just learned that one of them was to be fed to the wolves.

  “Palloc, what is it? Why are you behaving so strangely?” Calli asked.

  “Please, Father?” Dog begged.

  “All right,” Palloc snapped. “If it will keep you out of my way, Ligo can come.” He pointed at Calli. “Gather food. We are leaving now.”

  * * *

  Albi watched as Palloc and his wife took Dog and Ligo and left camp, headed downstream. For once Palloc was doing something useful for her. She went to the men’s side of the camp, signaling for Urs to join her. After what she interpreted as an insulting delay, Urs rose, making his way over to where Albi was waiting. “What is it?”

  “Hunt Master,” Albi said, speaking formally. “Though the weather has been mild and the hunting good, we must depart immediately for winter quarters.”

  Urs blinked in surprise. He glanced up at the clear blue sky, then down at her. “I was thinking we had many more days.”

  “I am telling you that the women believe winter will come early. We must leave in two days. The women are packing.” Or they would be, as soon as Albi informed them of this decision.

  “Well,” Urs started to say.

  “Plus there is something else,” Albi interrupted. Urs gaped at her as the council mother sank to her knees. “Often, Hunt Master, just as you discipline the hunters, I must impose order among the women.”

  Urs was baffled. “Order? Among the women?”

  Albi squeezed her eyes together in abject contrition. “I fear that in doing so, Hunt Master, I administered a light slap today.”

  “I do not understand any of this.”

  “I will accept any punishment, Hunt Master. Strike me with fist or club, at your will.”

  “Hit you?”

  “It was Bellu upon whom I administered the council’s discipline.”

  Urs blinked. “Wait. Wait. You struck my wife?”

  Albi, still kneeling, bent so that her forehead touched the ground. “I submit to your punishment.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  Urs regarded Albi’s prostrate form, utterly flummoxed. The anger he should be feeling was flustered by her behavior. I submit to your punishment. Was he supposed to beat her? Kindred men were forbidden to touch any woman not related by blood or marriage. Something like this was usually handled by the women’s council, but Albi was the women’s council. “Stand up,” Urs grated.

  Albi rose, and he was pleased to see the fear in her eyes. He thrust a finger at her face. “If you ever touch my wife again, I will … I will kill you,” he threatened.

  “Yes, Hunt Master,” Albi replied submissively.

  Urs realized he was standing there with his finger extended and nothing else to do. Oddly dissatisfied, he snatched the digit back and turned and walked stiffly away.

  He did not see the contemptuous smile on Albi’s face.

  Urs went to find his wife. Bellu was sitting by the Kindred stream, bringing handfuls of water to her face.

  “Bellu,” Urs announced sternly, “I have just spoken to Albi.”

  “Oh Urs.” Bellu came to him, her pregnant belly between them.

  “I told her she may never touch you again. Understand?” For some reason, now Urs could feel anger.

  “Yes. Thank you, Husband.”

  “Women are…” Urs could not finish the sentence because just starting it caused all perplexity to flow, like blood from a wound. “We leave in just a few days for winter quarters. I must take the hunt out.”

  “So soon?”

  “I have to find Valid,” Urs responded. He was still unaccountably angry.

  Valid was waiting for him on the men’s side. “Gather the hunt,” Urs instructed in clipped tones. “I will tell them you are spear master, and then we go at once to look for game. We leave for winter quarters in two days’ time.”

  “What?” Valid mimicked Urs’s examination of the cloudless sky.

  “The women want to go. Do not ask me why.”

  “Palloc will not be able to join us on the hunt,” Valid cautioned. “He left with his family and my son. I do not know where they were going.”

  Urs considered this. “We cannot wait for his return. We leave for the hunt immediately.”

  * * *

  Ador and Coco were talking when Bellu came up and breathlessly reported what she had just heard, that they were departing for the winter quarters earlier than anyone expected. Coco’s eyes narrowed. “Oh? Such interesting timing.”

  “What do you mean?” Ador asked.

  “We certainly would never select a new council mother during the move, nor when we first arrive at winter camp. There is just too much confusion. Albi has managed to cling to her position for many more days.”

  Ador nodded. “Of course.”

  “I am afraid I do not understand,” Bellu told them.

  “
It means Albi is not going to go without a fight,” Coco told her. “Where is Calli?”

  * * *

  It was easier to march ahead of his wife and the two children than to stride next to them and converse, so Palloc kept his eyes to the path and plodded along. Here the terrain along the stream arranged itself in hillocks, sparse trees waving in the light breeze.

  “Palloc,” Calli called. “You have to stop.”

  He turned and saw to his irritation that they were fifty paces behind him. Dog was clinging to his mother’s side as if his legs had ceased functioning, and Ligo was a further twenty paces back, listlessly dragging his feet a slow step at a time. With a sigh, Palloc reversed course.

  “You have to remember that these are little children,” Calli scolded him when he came up to her. She wiped a hand across her sweaty forehead. “And I am not suited for this, either. Why are we going so far?”

  Palloc picked up Dog, holding the wriggling little boy under one arm. “Just a little farther, there is a place we can stop. Come on, Ligo!”

  “Run, Ligo!” Dog called. Ligo ran, a burst of speed that made Dog giggle.

  Palloc took her to an area the hunt had found many summers ago: a path led up a long, gentle rise to a place where water came out of the ground, flowed over rocks in a trickle, and landed with a gurgle in a small pond where people could bathe, one person at a time, though the water was frigid. From here they could see the two hundred paces back down to the Kindred stream—the hills here were more heavily treed, making for a secluded, private area.

  “This is a wonderful spot!” Calli enthused. She splashed her legs and laughed as Dog and Ligo revived themselves with a water fight. The cloudless sky reflected up at her from the surface of the pond—she immediately looked at peace, as comfortable as she could be with the baby inside of her.

  Palloc sat back from them, on a rock, and brooded. He wanted to come up with the words he would use to tell her that he was no longer spear master, but all he could dwell on was the way he had failed to raise his club when he had had the chance. One true blow, and the hunt master would be dead!

  Now it was obvious why Urs had been so reluctant to go off hunting alone with Palloc: Urs had been planning this treachery all along, and did not want any friendship to build between them for fear it would make this unfair demotion awkward.

  Palloc seethed. Excepting the unexecuted plan to kill him, Palloc had been nothing but loyal to Urs!

  He remembered the day the lion attacked Hardy. Palloc was there, but did he get any adulation? Now he wished he had run up and loosed his spear and that it had gone straight into Urs’s gut. Urs would be dead and Palloc would be hunt master. Palloc would be married to beautiful Bellu, instead of Calli, who asked too many questions and had too many opinions.

  Calli shot him several sideways glances, but Palloc remained distanced from them. “Father, come play!” Dog called to him, but Palloc’s expression was stony, and he gave no indication he had heard.

  “Shall we eat?” Calli shouted up at him an hour or so later.

  “Go ahead, I have no appetite today,” he responded.

  Calli shrugged, opened her pouch, and tore pieces of cold cooked venison for the boys to eat.

  “I want to do this every day from now on!” Dog announced. Calli laughed as her son, grinning, threw a piece of meat into the air and tried to catch it in his open mouth. Ligo soon followed suit, missing about half the time.

  “You must still eat it if you get it dirty,” Calli admonished.

  Dog rinsed off the venison in the water, challenging his mother with a triumphant look.

  “Yes, very clever,” Calli nodded. “You certainly outsmarted me, Dog.”

  Calli and the boys dozed during the afternoon, and the sun was just starting to slant when she struggled awake. She saw from the remains that her husband had come to feed while she napped. He was closer now, watching her from a few paces away. His expression was dark and unreadable.

  “What is it?” Calli fought her pregnant belly, eventually making it to a sitting position, back against a rock.

  “There has been a change in the order of the hunt.”

  “The order?”

  “The hunt has an order. Every man knows his position in the hunt. Most are spearmen, but some are superior to others. Then there is the stalk master, Mors, who scouts ahead for game, and the stalking men who help—each stalker has a place. It is the order.”

  “I have heard this, I just never heard of it as the ‘order,’” Calli replied agreeably.

  “I will now be the most superior spearman.”

  Calli nodded. “I see,” she said, not understanding.

  Palloc stared moodily into the distance. “Valid, on the other hand, will be the spear master. It is a change in the order, but not much of one.”

  Calli stared at her husband. She saw the anger in his eyes, but there was something else there, too: this hurt him, she could see, and she felt her heart going out to him. She held out her arms. “Husband. Come here.”

  His lips twisted and he stood abruptly. “I thought you should know.” He stomped off, wandering up the hill until he was out of sight.

  Dog and Ligo came out of their sleep as if lightning had struck them, going from unconscious to running around laughing in an instant. Calli sighed, holding her belly.

  Far downstream, a black shape moved. Calli caught her breath when she saw that it was a great bear, busily overturning rocks and sniffing underneath them. It was at least a thousand paces away, and seemed unaware they were nearby.

  Her husband was out of sight. “Palloc?” she called.

  Palloc did not answer. The boys were oblivious, splashing each other and laughing. Calli bit her lip. The creature was either unaware of the human presence or it did not care—the huge beast never once looked in her direction. After a while, Calli relaxed. Apparently there was no danger.

  Palloc returned after some time had elapsed. He seemed to have overcome his anger. Calli decided not to mention what they had been talking about.

  “I have been watching the bear,” she told him.

  Palloc’s head snapped up. “What bear?”

  “It seems a young one—it is not as big as they can get, anyway. See? Way down there. He is digging along the streambed.”

  Palloc stared at the huge predator. “Did you just notice him?”

  “No, it has been since you left. It is okay, though, he has never looked up here at us, or even raised his nose. He is just concentrating on the rocks.”

  “He knows we are here,” Palloc whispered.

  “What?”

  “Every time you look at him, has he moved a little closer?”

  “Yes, but he is just slowly working his way along the stream banks.”

  “He knows we are here. Hardy spoke to us often of this kind of behavior. He is hunting us.”

  Calli’s heart clenched inside her like a fist. “Oh no.”

  “Dog! Ligo! Be quiet! Say nothing! We must leave now. Do not take anything, just come!” Palloc hoisted his spear and they padded down to the stream bank as silently as they could. Ironically, this brought them even closer to the bear, but the only trail back to camp was along the stream.

  “Do we run?” Calli whispered.

  “No. A great bear is faster than any man. We walk. Do not look back.”

  Calli nodded, holding the boys’ hands in hers, but after a hundred paces she could not help herself and glanced behind her.

  The bear had closed half the distance. He was sniffing the ground, for all appearances not interested in them, but he must have galloped for a few seconds. Now she could very clearly see the legendary claws of the great bear, who was massive, as tall on four legs as she was on two. “Palloc,” Calli gasped, her voice trembling. “He is getting closer.”

  Palloc risked a look back. The bear shuffled ahead, seemingly just strolling along.

  “Stop,” Palloc commanded.

  She dreaded the idea, but she did as s
he was told. She turned and looked at her husband, seeing the immense predator over his shoulder, still steadily headed in their direction.

  “He is going to charge us,” Palloc grated.

  Calli glanced at his spear. He shook his head. “No one man can stop the charge of a great bear.”

  “Then what are we to do, Palloc? I am so scared.”

  Palloc’s pale complexion seemed to have turned as white as a snowbank. He was visibly trembling.

  “If we run, he will take us,” he murmured.

  Calli realized she was going to die. Her gaze turned to Dog. Palloc followed her look.

  “If we each pick up a child…,” she began urgently, her voice shaking.

  “Then one adult and one child will die,” Palloc interrupted. “But if we pick up one child, I pick up Dog, and we run, then two adults and one child will live.”

  It took a moment to register what he was saying. “What? What?”

  “It is the only way, Calli.”

  The bear was seventy paces away and had also stopped, seemingly unhurried now that they were no longer fleeing.

  “We cannot leave Ligo!” she hissed. Tears were flowing now, and she wiped them angrily away. “Palloc! We cannot!”

  He bent and picked up Dog. “Ligo,” he said, his voice so strange that the two boys stared at him solemnly, “we are going to go ahead, but we want you to wait here. And then when we call, you show us how fast you can run, understand?”

  Ligo nodded, grinning.

  “No!” Calli shrieked. She snatched up Ligo, who stared at her, frightened.

  The great bear was turned, looking back the way he had just came, as if he had just heard something. He raised his nose to the air.

  “Go!” Calli snapped. Waddling as fast as she could with her burden, she headed up the path. Within seconds Palloc was even with her, giving her a desperate plea with his eyes, and then he and Dog bolted ahead.

  One adult and one child would die.

  “Ligo,” Calli panted. “If I have to put you down, if I fall or if something … if you see a bear, you need to get up and run and catch up to Dog and his father. Do not try to save me.”

  Ligo looked at her with wide eyes, frightened, not understanding. Calli tried to smile reassuringly, but a sob broke from her lips instead. “Please, Ligo,” she whispered.