Читать книгу The Blade of Gilgamesh - Jeff Edwards - Страница 7

Prehistory

The woman slumped against the rocky outcrop, using it for support, before dropping to her knees in utter exhaustion amongst the thin covering of snow afforded in the boulder’s lee.

Kront saw the woman’s sister kneel beside the collapsed figure and take a small bundle from his woman’s frozen arms. From his position at the head of the column of struggling figures, he raised his spear as a sign for the rest of the small clan to stop.

The howling wind whipped the snow into a dense fog and stifled any real chance of conversation, so the scattered members of his tribe sought whatever shelter they could find from the blizzard and hunkered down in a vain effort to keep warm.

Kront knelt beside his woman and noted with dismay the traces of blood in the snow. She had given birth two days before and it had been a drawn out and difficult affair made all the worse by the icy conditions and the clan’s lack of food.

The ill woman’s sister was examining the small bundle.

‘The child is dead,’ she announced quietly, and Kront saw the look of utter defeat on the young mother’s face.

Kront knew the clan could not remain exposed to the raging snow storm for any length of time. The top of the snow filled pass was up ahead and if they pushed on as quickly as they could his people would soon be dropping to lower levels where the drifts would be easier to traverse and the hope of finding food of any sort increased. If they remained where they were for any length of time then everyone would be at risk.

As their leader, Kront was the person who must make the decision that would affect them all. With a grim look, he took the dead child from the young woman’s arms and placed the small bundle beside his woman. He then removed the small bag containing her last scraps of food from around her neck and untied her cloak of animal fur. These he handed to an adolescent member of the clan who sheltered close by.

Without a backward glance at the condemned woman he made his way to the head of the small column and pointed his flint-tipped spear toward the head of the pass.

The clan chief’s woman looked at her sister. ‘He is a good man. Be with him.’

The younger woman nodded briefly as his clan fell in behind their leader leaving the woman shivering beside the rock. Her eyes closed as she resignedly awaited her fate.

Kront had loved his woman and the birth of his son had filled him with joy, but it was now up to him to lead the rest of them to safety and to find food. If the price of achieving that objective was to be the loss of his woman and son then that was what the gods demanded.

***

By the time the clan dropped below the snowline a second member of the clan had also been left behind.

This unfortunate soul had been one of his brother’s children, a child of only three summers who had been sickly and weak since a heavy fall on an ice-covered river the previous winter. Unable to rouse him from a deathlike sleep, they had been forced to leave him beside the trail with only his toy knife carved lovingly from wood for company.

Kront had expected the child to awaken and cry out in terror, but like his woman, the boy was too spent and his soul had already gone to the gods.

***

Finally, the deep snow gave way to a rock-strewn slope and the way forward became easier.

Kront allowed the clan a brief respite to stop and rest. A portion of their meagre supply of dried meat was passed around and they took the opportunity to drink from a nearby snow-fed stream.

All the while Kront stood sentinel atop a large boulder, and as he scanned the horizon any sign of approaching danger he caught a movement in his peripheral vision.

He crouched down to hide his position and gave a low whistle which attracted the attention of his younger brother. Kront signalled with his hand for his fellow hunter to join him.

The young man climbed up beside Kront and the clan leader silently pointed with his spear. Together they studied the horizon.

His brother nodded excitedly as he caught sight of the distant figure with its wide spread of horns. ‘A bull.’

They quickly scrambled down and Kront assembled the men. ‘Cattle’, he told them, and pointed.

***

The men were all keenly aware of how important it was for the clan’s survival that they catch up to, and slay, the distant animal. As one they set off at a trot to find their prey, leaving the women and children to follow at a more leisurely pace.

***

Kront’s was a seasoned hunter and unerringly led them to where they had last seen their target. They found the animal’s spoor several hours later and relished the thought of the feast that would follow the slaughter.

Several moons had waxed and waned since they had been forced to leave their former hunting grounds, and take to the long and tortuous trail over the snowy mountain range in search of a new home.

Few in numbers, they had been unable to do battle when a far larger tribe from the south had usurped their former hunting territory, and now they had been driven further and further into the wintery north to find a new home.

Hunger drove the hunters on, but they were forced to come to a sudden halt when they reached a wide but shallow river bed and found that all signs of the fleeing animal had disappeared.

The hunters could clearly see where the bull had entered the stream but could find no trace of where it had emerged on the far bank. Kront split his team into two groups and they made their way up and down both sides of the river, but nowhere was there a mark to be discerned. It was as though the animal had disappeared off the face of the earth.

The disappointed men gathered to discuss their dilemma when Kront suddenly held up his spear to silence them.

After a moment or two of utter silence a distant sound could be heard. To Kront’s experienced ear it seemed to have come from the direction of a nearby wall of solid rock, and was the echoing rattle of an animal moving over loose stones.

Curious, Kront signalled his men to spread out and move quietly in the direction of the sound.

As they came closer to the soaring wall of stone, the bank of the river became harder to negotiate and they were forced to climb down into the river bed itself to continue travelling upstream.

Kront noticed a small amount of mud being carried by the normally clear water of the stream and guessed that the bull had done exactly what they were doing which was why it hadn’t left a trail on the river’s bank.

Sheer cliffs now towered over them and Kront wondered where the animal could be hiding as there was now no open ground between his hunters and the sheer rock wall.

His question was answered as they followed the river to the base of the cliff where it suddenly took a sharp turn to the right, and then a short distance beyond, a turn to the left. Kront saw that a curtain of rock had been carved out of the sheer cliff face by the action of the running water and this had disguised the true course of the river.

Now the hunters could see that a narrow passage had been gouged through the mountain by the rushing stream while at the far end sunlight was pouring down on a hidden valley laying the end of the shadowy defile.

Even in the dim shadows of the encroaching rock walls, Kront could see his brother’s look of anticipation as the hunters quickly made their way toward the sunlight.

***

After the darkness of the gorge the hunters were forced to stand for a few moments at the valley’s opening to allow their eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight.

Then Kront silently signalled to his men who spread out in a long line amongst the trees that grew along the river while he took the opportunity to study their surroundings and decide on their next move.

He noted that the river wound its way across a wide grassy meadow until it came to a further line of cliffs opposite where they now stood. There the stream emerged as if by magic from a point half way up the cliff face and fell as a sheet of water that caught the sunlight and burst into a rainbow of shimmering colours in the sunlight.

Beside the river at the far end of the valley a small herd of cattle grazed, and the bull that the hunters had followed moved confidently toward his cows.

Kront smiled in delight at the prospect of fresh meat while he studied the valley more closely. He noted that it was surrounded by soaring cliffs and that he and his men were now standing guard as its one and only entrance.

After all their trials Kront could hardly believe that the gods had chosen to smile on the clan this day. The herd was trapped and his hunters now had complete control over the slaughter that was to come.

Kront motioned his men to move forward, their razor-sharp flint tipped spears at the ready. The gods were certainly smiling upon them as the slight breeze that ruffled the leaves was at their face and the herd would be unable to sense their presence until the hunters were upon them. He knew the clan would eat well tonight.

Slowly and silently the men moved forward and formed themselves into small killing groups. They knew from experience that one spear alone would not do enough damage to bring down one of these large animals, but with two or three piercing their thick hide even the mightiest animal would soon bleed to death.

At last the hunters were in position, their spears held high, ready to strike at Kront’s command.

He was about to open his mouth and yell the fateful cry when the air was suddenly torn apart by a sound that none of those who were present had ever heard before. Many times louder than the claps of thunder that usually accompanied the god’s display of displeasure when storms wracked the skies, it caused the hunters to fall to their knees in fear, with hands clapped over their ears in a vain effort to stop the sudden pain.

A second, and then a third explosion rent the air around them and Kront looked up in abject fear and saw a ball of fire race cross the sky.

The piercing sound also had the same effect on the cattle. They crashed about in terror and screamed like as though a hunters’ spears had pierced them. The urge to escape the dreaded sound infected them, and because they were hemmed hard up against the cliff face they stampeded in the only clear direction open to them, which was straight back across the valley and directly into the cordon of Kront’s hunters.

With their spears now lowered and their killing groups in disarray, the hunters had no choice but to try to evade the solid mass of charging animals. Most dived behind a tree or large boulder to protect themselves from the herd’s thrashing hooves and slashing horns but Kront’s brother was caught in open space with no protection, and despite his desperate efforts to outrun the crazed animals, he was pierced through the back by the great bull’s crashing charge. The animal swung his head to rid himself of the unwanted burden and the unfortunate hunter’s body was cast aside and crushed under the following press of maddened animals.

Despite the sight of his brother’s death, Kront’s experience as a hunter and his desperation to find food for his clan came to the fore, and as the herd smashed their way past his hiding place, he stepped out and thrust his spear into the side of the last animal in line.

But a single spear was not enough to bring it down, and the herd was soon past him, rushing for the only way out of the enclosed valley.

***

What happened next was over in an instant, and it was not until much later that the hunters were able to piece together their individual recollections.

There was another mighty crash of sound. This one was much louder than those that had gone before. A streak of fire flashed across the sky and they were all thrown off their feet as it slammed to earth at the head of the valley.

The fiery demon struck a tree whose trunk exploded, as did the rock face behind it, and then the top of the destroyed tree toppled slowly into the stream, its twisted branches now blocking the maddened animals in their efforts to escape.

Kront and his men lay cowering in fear as more and more fiery missiles crossed the sky, and the earth continued to shake with their passing.

At last all was still, and as Kront rose to his feet he saw that the herd continued to wheel in a demented mob at the entrance to the valley. One stood apart from the rest, staggering slightly, and Kront could see his spear protruding from the animal’s side.

With his clan’s desperate plight still utmost in his thoughts the hunter moved silently until he was between the wounded animal and the rest of his thrashing companions. Giving no thought to his dangerous position Kront then ran toward the wounded animal with his arms waving and yelled loudly.

The already skittish animal’s eyes were wide in fear as it wheeled away from this new danger and rushed directly into the path of Kront’s men.

Spears pierced the wounded animal’s flanks and the unfortunate cow soon lay bleeding on the river’s bank. Two hunters held the cow down while Kront slit its throat.

‘What about the rest of the herd?’

‘We have no need of more meat. Leave them. Right now, they’re too dangerous to approach. We’ll come back when they’ve calmed down. Divide this one up and we’ll leave.’

***

The return of the hunters was a time of great joy to the entire clan.

Not only had they managed to survive the wrath of the sky gods, but they had returned with enough food to ensure their survival.

Kront led the assembled clan to a place of shelter not far from the entrance to the hidden valley, and ordered the women to set up cooking fires.

As the lifesaving meat was being readied Kront took the opportunity to return to the river and make his way back through the gorge.

The younger sister of his dead companion was outside the camp gathering wood and saw him go and she wondered where was up going. Curious, she decided to follow.

***

Where the fallen tree had blocked the hidden valley Kront climbed up onto the shattered trunk and studied the lush meadows beyond.

‘The cattle will still be restless. It would be foolish to go near them,’ said a woman’s voice.

Kront turned and nodded to her, ‘I was looking for my brother’s body.’

‘There’ll be time for that later, when the cattle are calm. Our first care must be for the living.’

‘Our journey has been long and hard and my heart is heavy with our losses. I want to honour his bravery.’

‘And we will. Tell me what happened?’

Kront described the hunt, how it had gone wrong, and how the gods had interceded on their behalf...

‘The gods did this to the tree?’

‘Yes.’

‘They are indeed powerful.’

‘Even the rocks were smashed. See,’ he said pointing to the shattered rock face.

The woman moved over to the blackened and pulverised rock. ‘There’s something in there,’ she said, pointing to the centre of the impact zone.

Curious, Kront joined her and could also see something strange embedded in the rock. He used his flint knife to sharpen a nearby branch and began to gouge away at the blackened rock. Eventually he managed to manoeuver the pointed stick under the mysterious object and lever it free. The shiny orb flew out of its resting place and dropped into the stream where it shone brightly as the sunlight reflected off its smooth sides. Excitedly, the woman scooped it up.

‘I’ve never felt anything like this before,’ she whispered in awe as she handed the small wet object to him.

Kront studied the mysterious thing which now lay in the palm of his hand. It was the size of a grown man’s thumb and as it caught the sunlight it threw the sun’s rays back in such a way that it hurt the hunter’s eyes. Kront closed his large hand over the object and found that it was incredibly hard. Far harder than the hardest wood he had ever come across, and much smoother. Pebbles from the stream were this smooth but this mysterious object absorbed the heat of his hand unlike any piece of rock he had ever held.

Kront opened his fist again and turned the object over. The woman beside him gasped.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘Look at it closely,’ she said in wonderment. Slowly she reached out and touched the rounded parts, ‘See, this is her head, and these are her milk filled breasts, and that is her swollen stomach, full of child.’

Kront could see then what the woman saw. It did indeed look like the head and body of a pregnant woman.

‘It is a gift from the gods, a sign of fertility,’ said the woman with great reverence, ‘Our clan has lost much lately but the gods have also seen fit to give us much in return.’

Kront nodded, ‘The gods have trapped the cattle. Our clan will be able to live for many seasons upon their flesh.’

‘I believe what the gods have given us here is the promise of fertility. If we kill only when we have need and allow the rest of the cattle to survive they will give birth to more animals and we will never go hungry again.’

Kront nodded in admiration at the woman’s wisdom, ‘I wonder if the promise of fertility is for the women of the clan as well?’

The woman gave a throaty laugh and placed a hand on Kront’s arm, ‘I have lost a sister and you a brother. If I hold the sacred object in my hand as you enter me, we’ll call on the gods to make me fruitful.’

Kront smiled, ‘Spread your legs woman. What the gods wish of us must be determined.’

‘I’ll call on them to plant in me a hunter as mighty as his father.’