Breakaway: Clan of the Ice Mountains (13 page)

“You sure must be hungry,” Meavu said.

“Race you,” Attu replied, and the two of them ran back to camp.

T
he following day, Attu climbed up into the rocky hills, high above the camp. At the top, along the ridge of the land where the snow blew off the flat surfaces, he could see both sides of the outcropping they were camped on, sloping down to meet the Great Frozen. It was quiet up here, away from the noise of the camp. Attu needed to be alone today so he could think, could figure out some way he could convince his father to take back leadership of the clan.

Ubantu had made no move to regain the allegiance of the other hunters, who had now grown used to following Moolnik. Most of them liked Moolnik’s loud and brash manner, so unlike Ubantu’s quieter ways. They thought Moolnik decisive and confident, Attu knew. Moolnik was careful not to allow the others to see his true cowardly nature.

But strange as it was to Attu, Moolnik still seemed to need his brother’s approval and constantly sought it, even as he remained jealous of him, just as Suka was jealous of Kinak. Perhaps Ubantu could use Moolnik’s need for approval in some way. Still, whenever Ubantu refused to go along with Moolnik’s schemes, they argued.

Just yesterday, Attu had decided to try to influence the other hunters on his own. He began by speaking with Kinak and Yupik again about the need to move south. They’d laughed at him. The other hunters wanted to hear him tell of the ice bear attack, which he refused to do, but they didn’t want to listen to him explain why the clan needed to begin moving south and east again, like Paven’s clan had done. Attu brought up the subject with the rest of the hunters, and they all grew uneasy, looking over their shoulders for signs of Moolnik.

“Why are you afraid?” Attu challenged them. “Moolnik is not an ice bear. He’s just a man.” But at his words, the other hunters turned away, their faces cold.

No matter how angry Moolnik gets, Father must take the lead hunter’s place again, so we can get off this land before it’s too late,
Attu reasoned with himself for the hundredth time.
The other hunters are like Moolnik, only seeing the rich game here. They must see the changes in the Expanse; every Nuvik hunter watches the weather signs constantly. But they choose to believe it will stay like it is now, no warmer. They are afraid to go out on the ice again. So am I. But if we wait, we will all be trapped here.

But so far, his arguments had not caused even his own father to do anything other than wait with the rest of them.
And for what?
His people needed to travel beyond the Expanse, away from the ice bears and onto the large land to the south and east. And they needed to go NOW.

Attu thought about the ice bear, and how something he had been taught to believe was a spirit of the Between had proven to be real. He wondered how many other stories were also real, not tales at all, but important information passed down the generations for his people to remember when they would need the knowledge again. He thought of the whale fish and trembled to think it, too, might be real. Whale fishes didn’t seem possible, but Attu remembered Elder Nuanu’s words, “...until the sun before this one, I thought such an expanse of open water could not exist, either...”

Attu thought about the nuknuk holes that didn’t refreeze for days, and the way the blue green algae and rock moss flourished here in such large quantities. Every sign pointed to the warming of Nuvikuan-na and the need to get to the large land mass Elder Tovut had spoken of, before they were trapped on land like this one, big enough to camp on, but too small to live on for the countless generations they might be confined to its small dry space. And that would be IF the water did not rise any more, like Elder Tovut had said it would.

Attu felt a fear stronger than his fear of the ice bears rising up in him as he thought about his family being trapped on an ever-shrinking spot of land while the water rose around them. The prophecy Elder Tovut had spoken said that he, Attu, was to lead his people to safety. Yet here he was, still recovering from massive wounds, and no other hunters would listen to his advice.
But if I can somehow convince my father to lead...

Attu’s thoughts continued to roll back on themselves as he looked down toward the shore where the clan’s camp was set up. In some places, the strips of unfrozen water were almost a spear length wide, edging around the land where the sun warmed the dark-rock shoreline.

Attu sighed.
One more sign that Elder Tovut was right.

As he began to head down the slope again, toward camp, Attu noticed two women walking away from camp, gathering blue algae along the shoreline. Attu knew they must be Yupik’s woman, Taunu, and their daughter Inung because of the bold pattern of colorful fur on the backs of their parkas. All the women created unique designs for parkas, and Attu had walked behind the other clan members so long on the journey, he knew every pattern.

And of course they have no hunters guarding them,
Attu thought.

Attu was looking down at the women, judging the distance between him and them, figuring out the best path to take down the steep hill, when he saw an ice bear edging its way behind some snow-covered mounds that butted against the shoreline. Attu could see the bear from this height, but he knew the women couldn’t.

Attu bolted down the hill, cupping his hands and shouting a warning as he ran. He knew the women couldn’t hear him from this distance, but someone in the camp might. As he ran, Attu’s feet got ahead of him and he began sliding, using his miks to steady himself as he slid down the loose rocks. Twice he almost lost control, but he recovered by allowing his body to slam into larger rocks to slow himself down.

Slewing around a boulder, Attu cried out again, and this time, two hunters, Moolnik and Yupik, looked up from the edge of camp where they’d been standing. Attu knew a cloud of rock dust was rising behind him, and he yelled again when he saw them turn in his direction. Attu forced himself to a stop, jumped up on the nearest rock, and pointed toward the place where the women were gathering.

The men raced toward the women, spears at the ready. But they had far to run, and the bear was coming around the mounds. Attu held his bruised sides, steadying himself on his rock perch, and tried to catch his breath, so he could make it the rest of the way down the steep slope. He’d veered off the easier path, and he realized now as he stood there he was trapped. He couldn’t go down any further this way, but would have to climb back up and take the path the others had worn over the last two moons. He couldn’t reach the women in time, either way. Attu watched in agony as the bear rounded the mound heading for its prey.

Moolnik and Yupik were yelling as they ran; Attu could hear their voices carried to him on the wind. Taunu and Inung must have heard as well because they looked up from their gathering and saw the bear, and Attu heard their combined screams as they dropped their pouches and began running toward the hunters.

The bear broke into a charge. In two leaps, it had covered the ground between itself and the women, and as the bear leaped again, Attu saw a huge paw catch Taunu, throwing her sideways against the mounds. She did not get up again. Inung continued to run until she neared the hunters. She slowed, as if to throw herself into her father Yupik’s arms, but suddenly veered off and began running again, streaking past the hunters toward camp. Attu knew Yupik would have yelled to his daughter to run for safety. Her fear would give her enough speed to make it.

Moolnik and Yupik slowed as they neared the bear that, ignoring the two hunters, was beginning to drag the limp Taunu back the way it had come. Attu’s stomach sickened at the sight of the bear, Taunu’s arm in its massive jaws. He watched as Yupik launched himself at the bear’s back. The bear dropped Taunu and reared up on its hind legs.

It was huge.

Yupik somehow hung on and began climbing up the bear’s back, stabbing as he went, using the two knives he always carried. Blood darkened the bear’s white fur as it spun and roared, trying to shake Yupik off. It flailed wildly in the air over its head with its huge paws, but couldn’t seem to reach behind itself far enough to grab Yupik.

That man has a demon spirit,
Attu thought as Yupik clung to the bear and stabbed it, first with one knife, then the other. He continued to climb up its massive shoulders, using the embedded knives as handholds, stabbing, climbing, and stabbing again. Reaching the bear’s head, Yupik ducked a swing of claws and with a mighty thrust, stabbed the bear in the face. It screamed and swung a massive paw. Yupik was so high up on its back now that the ice bear got a grip on him with its huge claws, and with one swipe, Yupik was torn from the bear’s back and thrown to the side. The bear dropped to all fours and screamed again, a high pitched keen of fury as it ground its paws into its own face, blood spewing as it shook its head. Attu saw something fly off.

One of Yupik’s knives,
Attu realized.
It must have been imbedded in the bear’s eye.

The ice bear turned, rising up on its hind feet again. It WAS a giant, taller than twice a man’s height plus the length of an arm. As Attu watched, the bear let out a roar, towering over Moolnik, who stood frozen in place. The bear roared and roared down at Moolnik and Attu could see the yellow teeth in the gaping red mouth. The hills shook in echo to the roar, and Attu trembled.

The bear shook its head again, and dropping to all fours, it turned away from Moolnik and headed back toward the mounds, slowly, leaving a trail of blood behind it. Attu stood as still as Moolnik. He couldn’t believe the bear had left without attacking Moolnik. Yupik must have injured it severely. Perhaps being attacked from behind had scared it. Perhaps Yupik’s raw fury had made the bear hesitant to attack Moolnik. But for whatever reason, Attu watched as the ice bear disappeared behind the mounds again.

The rest of the clan swarmed out over the shoreline to help the injured Taunu and Yupik. Attu turned and started the climb back up to the path, feeling as weary now as if he’d been Yupik, attacking the bear. He wondered if Taunu was dead, and how badly Yupik was injured. Whatever the outcome, Moolnik would have to see reason now and leave this land before someone else got attacked. Attu’s hands shook as he grabbed for handholds among the rocks, his back aching from the effort of climbing back up to the path that led to camp.

A
ttu hurried into camp on legs that felt like rubbery hides. All he could think of now was how good it would feel to sink into his soft fur bed and sleep, but first he needed to find out how Taunu and Yupik were. The clan would’ve taken them to Elder Nuanu’s. He hurried through the camp toward her shelter, passing the hunters talking in loud voices.

One voice caught Attu’s attention. Moolnik’s. Lies were pouring out Moolnik’s mouth as he retold “his” version of the attack.
To hear him tell it,
Attu thought as he slowed down,
Moolnik was the hero who chased off the bear, not Yupik, when the truth is Moolnik stood there too terrified to do a thing to stop the bear. It’s as if Moolnik has a spirit of trickery within him. Others listen to him and believe, no matter what the truth is.

Furious, Attu picked up his pace, wincing with the strain of trying to walk faster, but needing to put some distance between himself and Moolnik.

“Wait, Attu!” Suka called after him.

Attu stopped and turned, looking back at Suka.

“What did you see?” Suka asked. His shouted question caused the group to become quiet as the hunters, including Moolnik, stopped talking to hear what Attu would say.

Attu looked past Suka and glared at Moolnik instead, letting every bit of his anger and disrespect for the elder show on his face.

“Enough,” Attu replied. “I saw enough.”

Ignoring the calls of the others to return and tell what he’d witnessed, Attu turned and headed toward Elder Nuanu’s shelter again. He heard footsteps behind him, and recognizing his father’s slight limping gait, Attu slowed, allowing his father to catch up.

“Attu, what’s wrong?” Ubantu asked.

“Not here,” Attu hissed. “I’ll tell you, Father; I will tell you everything, but we need to go where others can’t hear.”

Attu picked up his pace again, but caught his foot on a stone. He stumbled, almost falling in his weariness.

Attu flinched in pain as his father grabbed his injured shoulder to stop his fall. Attu’s back was screaming at him, and he was afraid he’d ripped open the deepest wound again.

“Are you hurt?” his father asked.

“My back.”

Ubantu grunted and carefully steadied Attu at his elbow, hurrying him toward their shelter. “Let your mother tend your back,” his father said. “I’ll check on Taunu and Yupik again. You need to lie down.”

“Tonight, my son,” his father said as he slipped back out of the shelter once Attu was settled in, his mother gathering up her supplies to treat his back. “We’ll talk tonight.”

Attu saw Yural look anxiously between the two of them, but she said nothing as she worked to carefully remove Attu’s inner fur vest.

––––––––

I
t was late evening, and although the darkness gave the illusion of privacy, still Ubantu walked around camp, checking to make sure everyone else was in their shelters, except for the two hunters Moolnik had instructed, after the attack, to walk the perimeter of the clan’s camp watching for ice bears.

“Now he seems to have an interest in keeping us safe,” Attu said to his father as Ubantu returned and told him of the guards Moolnik had posted.

“It’s hard to continue to ignore the spirit of Death when it rears up in your face with slashing claws and sharp teeth,” his father said.

You don’t know how right you are about that, Father.

“But why did you stare at Moolnik with such hatred? What happened?”

Attu poured out his story to Ubantu, from the very beginning. Much of what he spoke of, his father already knew: how he believed Moolnik was not a good leader, not caring for his people, usurping Ubantu’s right to lead past when his injury had healed. Ubantu listened without comment, occasionally nodding his head.