The Kin (56 page)

She stopped because she could go no further, and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and looked around. She had reached a small clearing beside a fallen tree. She could still hear the whisper of the stream behind her. She wasn't yet ready to turn back. She felt unravelled, as if the sudden upwelling of pure grief had loosened the strands of her inward self—much as the braids of grass stems that she used to carry her gourd sometimes came untwisted—and she needed a little time to weave them firm again.

She was standing there, sighing and shaking her head, when someone shouted behind her. She jumped with alarm, then realized it had been only Suth calling for her. As she was turning to answer something hissed low down beside her. Again she jumped, then backed away, staring. A thin, dark arm slid out from under the fallen tree and beckoned to her. She knelt and peered into the dark space beneath the trunk. Two wide eyes glistened. She could barely make out the shape of the face around them. A girl? A woman?

Suth called again, nearer. The arm beckoned impatiently. Mana held up her hand, palm forward—
Peace
—and answered over her shoulder, “Suth, I am here.”

She rose and went to meet him.

“Wait, Suth,” she said softly. “One hides. She is afraid. She says in her heart,
These men kill me
.”

“I fetch Noli,” he said, and ran off. Mana returned to squat by the fallen tree where the woman could see her, and smiled and made calming noises in her throat, until Noli arrived with Amola. She crouched and looked in under the tree trunk and made the usual hum of greeting. When the girl—or woman—didn't move, Noli settled down cross legged and put Amola to her breast, where she immediately began to suck happily.

Mana saw the round eyes widen. Slowly and cautiously their owner crawled into the open. She was a strange little woman, obviously an adult but not as tall as Mana when she stood up. Her skin was darker than Mana's, almost black. She had large, protruding buttocks, and her face was wrinkled, like a new-born baby's, but otherwise she didn't look very old. Her eyes kept darting from side to side. She was as shy as a startled deer.

Noli rose, smiling, and took her hand.

“Come,” she said, and led the way back towards the lair. The moment the woman saw Suth she gave a gasp of alarm, snatched her hand from Noli's and backed away. Suth gave the
Peace
gesture and hummed a greeting. Hesitantly the little woman edged back to Noli and let her lead her on.

Before they reached the lair Suth called out to the others, “Hear me. We bring a stranger woman. She is afraid, afraid.”

A few of the Kin climbed up the bank to meet her, and once again she stopped and backed away. Then, suddenly, she seemed to make up her mind that these newcomers meant her no harm, but she ignored their greetings and hurried on past them and out of Mana's sight down to the lair. Mana couldn't bear to look at the dead boy again, so when they moved on she asked Shuja what had happened.

“She turned the boy over,” said Shuja. “She looked at him. My thought was,
He is her son
. But she did not grieve. She went to the fire. She took ash. She put it on his face. She stood a little. She turned away. It was finished.”

“This is strange,” said Bodu. “Is she a demon woman? I say No.”

They talked about it as they moved on, working generally eastward along the slope and not going further down into the valley, so that they wouldn't have far to climb to the open ground when they wanted to lair that night.

“I say this,” said Chogi at last. “Her skin is black. The skin of the demon men is dark, like ours. The boy's skin is darker. A demon man took this woman. He was the father. The boy is her son. She does not want him. But he is her son.”

“This is sad, sad,” said Bodu.

The little woman didn't seem to think so. She had tagged along with them, seeming much more confident now, behaving as if she had always been one of their party, and foraging unconcernedly with them whenever they paused to do that. She seemed to have forgotten all about the dead boy.

But around midday, when they were starting to look for somewhere pleasant to rest and eat, she made one of her strange sounds and smiled and raised her hand in what was obviously a goodbye gesture, and then ran off down the hill. A little later they heard her call. Two more distant calls answered, one after the other.

“She finds friends,” said Bodu. “Do we go see?”

Before anyone could answer Mana saw Ridi fall on her knees in front of Tun, making the moaning whine that meant she was begging a favour. She pointed the way the little woman had gone.

“These are women's voices,” said Tun. “We find them. We give gifts. They are friends. Is this good?”

They set off, with Ridi hurrying ahead, and every now and then turning to wave to them to follow faster. After a bit she stopped and halloed. An answering cry came from below. Ridi broke into a run and disappeared.

They followed and met her further down the hill, leading another woman back towards them. This one had a child on her hip, a girl a little younger than Tan. The mother looked very like Ridi, or one of the marshwomen, but the child's skin was darker, with a greyish tinge. The mother and Ridi were obviously old friends, laughing and crying with the happiness of their meeting.

They greeted Tun, and then led the way to another lair, like the first but larger, and with its fire still burning. There were two more women here, the one Mana had found that morning, and another who might have been her sister, with the same wrinkled face, black skin and enormous buttocks. She had a small baby, also very black. There was an older girl, black too, and a little boy with a much paler skin. Ridi's friend seemed to be his mother.

The other difference about this lair was that there were four posts at its entrance. At the top of each of them was a human skull.

This was a sight they were going to see several times over the next few days, a long-used lair, with a fire burning at its centre, women and children preparing food or foraging somewhere near by, and two or more poles, topped by their ghastly trophies.

The women were mostly like the marshpeople, slight and pale skinned; some were like the strange little woman Mana had found by the lair with the dead boy; but a few were tall and thin with the same purple tinge to their dark grey skin as the demon men. The children were mixtures of these shapes and colours, but again a few of them had the true demon people look.

When the Kin chanced on one of these lairs, the little women at once scuttled off and hid, and the pale-skinned ones started to do the same until Ridi called to them, when they came hesitantly back. But if there was a demon woman she would rise and face them proudly, with her demon child at her side. Neither of them looked as if they knew what it was like to be afraid.

The first time this happened Mana just stared at the two of them, but when the Kin moved on she found herself wishing she'd done more—greeted them, smiled, spoken—anything to show them, and show herself, that she and they were the same—they were people. So next time, a couple of days later, she walked up to the demon woman and greeted her with the raised hand and the hum that the marshpeople used for that.

The demon woman glanced at her, and away. The boy—a small one, just old enough to run without falling down all the time—stared back at Mana with dark, unfriendly eyes. She smiled and reached out a hand to touch him.

Instantly the mother hissed like a snake and snatched her son out of reach. Mana backed off, still trying to smile, but the mother stared fixedly away. When Mana turned she saw several of the Kin watching her. Chogi shook her head, frowning. Mana felt very depressed when they moved on. She didn't try to make friends with a demon woman again.

All this was bad enough, but then there came a yet more dreadful change. By now the Kin had ventured further down into the valley and were working their way back west, exploring as they went. Now when they chanced on one of these camps it was like the first one they'd found. The skulls had been taken from the poles. The fire was dead, or dying, and sometimes there would be a body, or bodies, lying beside the cold embers, demon women and dark-skinned children. Any other women and children were gone. Though Ridi called and called, no one answered.

The Kin stared at these scenes with a horror like Mana's. For a man to kill a woman or a child was a shame beyond shame. His own Kin were outcast until they had hunted him down. His own brother, if he had one, would strike the blow. There would be no death dance. Instead his body would be carried to one of the demon places and left there for the demons to eat his spirit. His name would be deliberately forgotten. In the long history of the Kins only three such names were remembered, as a kind of warning. Da. Mott. Ziul.

The Kin saw no demon men at all, dead or alive, and to Mana's relief they met none of the marshmen who had done these killings. They had always seemed to be friends to the Kin, despite their strange ways, but now she didn't know how she could have faced them.

“We do not stay here,” said Tun. “This place is full of spirits. They are demon spirits. No one does the death dance for them.”

So he led them rapidly on westward and then north until they reached a much less fertile area where there seemed to be no old lairs at all. This was like the country they had been used to, more open, with its Good Places scattered far apart and almost barren stretches between them, rock, sand, gravel, coarse sunbaked grass, and harsh, thorny bushes.

Here they all found that they were more comfortable in their own spirits. It was as if life on those north-facing slopes had been too easy, too rich, too generous. They were talking about this by the fire one evening when a strange idea came to Mana. She thought about it a little and then touched Noli's arm.

Noli looked at her and raised her eyebrows enquiringly.

“I have a thought, Noli,” Mana whispered. “The demon men. They trouble me. Why do they do these things? I say this. Those other Places—they are too good. The women do everything. They forage, they set traps. They find food, plenty, plenty. What do the men do? They hunt, they catch deer, two, three—there are many deer, many. They cannot eat all these deer. They say in their hearts,
I
have nothing to do
—
I
hunt people
. Is this man stuff, Noli? Does Tun do this? Does Suth?”

Noli took the question seriously, and thought about it, frowning.

“Mana, I do not know,” she said. “I know Tun does not do it. I know Suth does not do it. But men must do something. A man says in his heart,
Let people see me. Let them say, ‘This is a man
.'”

Yes, Mana thought, that was it. Men needed to stand by the fire and boast about what they'd done. In the Kin they usually boasted about hunting, because hunting was difficult, and a successful hunt was something to boast about. But suppose hunting had been easy, what else was there? There was fighting, man against man. If a man killed another man, he was the better man. And to back up his boast, he might take the dead man's head to prove it.

She fell asleep that night feeling very depressed and still thinking about it.

Was it so? Did it have to be so?

Oldtale

THE GAME OF PEBBLES

The Kins left Mambaga. They said, “Let there be no fighting. Let Fat Pig go west, by Beehive Waterhole. Let Snake go east, by Yellowspring.”

The Kin of Fat Pig journeyed a morning. A pig stood in their way. The pig was fat
.

They said, “This is strange. This pig does not run from people. Why is this?”

Siku said, “I, Siku, show you.”

She went forward. She was small. The pig lay down. Siku climbed on its back. The pig stood up. Siku said, “Come.”

The pig went towards Yellowspring
.

They said, “Do we follow? The Kins said, ‘Go by Beehive Waterhole.' We go to Yellowspring, they are angry. But see, this pig does not run from us. A child, a girl child, climbs on its back. She speaks thus to the elders. She is not afraid. Is this First One stuff? We follow this pig. We see.”

They went towards Yellowspring. By the west trail they went
.

The Kin of Snake journeyed to Yellowspring by the north trail. They came near the place. A snake lay in their path, a great tree serpent, green and black
.

They said, “This is strange. Here are no trees. Here is this tree serpent. It does not hide from people. What is this?”

Farj said, “I, Farj, show you.”

He went forward. The tree serpent raised itself. It coiled around him. Its head lay on his shoulder. It did not squeeze him
.

He said, “Wait.”

His Kin looked at him. They said, “This is old Farj. He shakes. He mutters. But see, the snake coils round him. It does not squeeze him. Is this First One stuff? We wait.”

It was evening. The sun was low. The Kin of Fat Pig came near to Yellowspring. The pig stopped. Siku climbed from its back. The pig ran. It was gone. The people were thirsty. Their gourds were empty. They went to the spring. They came to it by the west trail
.

So with the Kin of Snake. The tree serpent uncoiled itself from old Farj. It was gone. The people were thirsty, their gourds were empty. They went to the spring. They came to it by the north trail
.

At Yellowspring the two Kins met. The men saw their enemies. They said, “Now we fight. Here this war began. Here we end it.”

The women seized their arms. They said, “This end is foolish, foolish. Do not fight.”

The men said, “People were killed, blood fell from wounds, fierce blows were struck. All this must be paid for. A death for a death, a wound for a wound, a blow for a blow
.”

Farj stood before his Kin. Black Antelope went behind him. No one saw him. He breathed upon Farj
.