Chapter 6
With Creb on one side and Onlan on the other, Broud found himself trapped. To his astonishment, he discovered that his feet were no longer in contact with the ground. He watched in horror as the land rushed away from his feet. In all of the ceremonies he'd been a part of, none of them matched this level of supernatural awe.
Thonolan had a sense of déjà vu as they traveled higher and higher until the earth blurred around them. Traveling nearer to the Great Sea, they followed a path to the previous home of the clan. Ayla was leaving and motioning to the people who didn't see her. Broud raised his arm as if to strike.
"She should have been the son of my mate..."
The words wafted up to them and Broud narrowed his eyes. He tried to swoop down on them but was held fast between the mog-ur and Onlan. Time moved forward quickly and slowed again to show the valley of horses. Thonolan's attention was caught as much as Broud's now. There was the trail that he and his brother had journeyed on, a thin thread of a path. Of course, he thought to himself. Two threads that were to be woven together.
Creb brought them along on the same path that he had shown Thonolan long ago. With each amazing scene, Broud's ire increased. She was supposed to be dead. Spirits don't gather food or make fires. But one thing he did notice and it made him glad. No other person saw her. Perhaps the curse was there still and she was a spirit. That would explain the strange behavior of the animals. The firestone also seemed unnatural. Even as a spirit, he had no memory for it.
Thonolan was aware of the tension building inside of Broud. He glanced uneasily at Creb who seemed not to notice. The air around them changed. The scene was all too familiar, and this time Thonolan looked away when Baby attacked.
Broud's eyes grew wide. That is what happened to him and Grev. What did the spirits mean by this? Perhaps Grev would be fine after all, he thought with hope. He watched in fascination, as Onlan became a Watcher with special favor from his Donii or whatever his god was named. He had no respect for the people of the Others who favored a woman-like deity. His eyes narrowed as he fleetingly saw Onlan watching his clan.
Creb brought them to the present time, or the time they knew as the present. Hovering dramatically a few moments, he swept them up toward the future. He enjoyed going to this area; it was an opening he couldn't pass through when he was alive. Both veejias with him were now transfixed on the scene. Though Thonolan had seen it before, he watched with eager anticipation.
The winter passed and the pair set out on the journey home. The passage of time was a blur and each succession of scenes brought them closer to the Zelondonii. A strange thing was taking place that Thonolan had not noticed before. The name "Ayla" was spoken in awe and in the same context of Donii. She was becoming a legend and the stories were spreading.
Broud noticed this too. The stupid people, he thought to himself. Can't they see how willful she is? Can't they see that she is cursed and is only a spirit? No clan member had seen her except for that deformed one in the lion camp and he didn't count. Why should a woman of such low status be given so much favor? She will not win! His mind screamed against it. Always it was Ayla who took the attention from him. Since his manhood ceremony to his leadership she had won. But now, he was a veejia. He could control the things around the lives of the living. She would not win; he would find some way to make her lose. The future was not set, he could change it. He, Broud of the Clan of the Cavebear was now more powerful than she.
Broud tried to shake himself out of the odd sensations he was experiencing. He had no idea how much time had passed since they started the spirit journey. Seasons seemed to have passed, yet he stood in front of the cave looking deceptively like it had only been one day.
Oga bowed her head and affected a look of mourning, though at times she found it difficult to do so. She kept her body in check and acted as a clan woman should. Inwardly she added a skip to her step as freedom lifted her heart. Today was the feast for her mate's burial, and afterwards he would be spoken of no more.
The mantle of grief she displayed was for her youngest son, Grev. Though he was badly injured he would recover. The sorrow was not for his suffering, but for the boy he had been. He was no longer her son, he was now officially the mogul's acolyte; one that followed in the footsteps of Creb. She shuddered and looked quickly around her as if thinking his name could conjure him.
Had Oga known that Creb was already there watching, she would have cowered in fear. Grev's mauled appearance was not lost on the wise mog-ur. As the seasons turn over again, all things come full circle and nature repeats itself.
Thonolan's attention was shifted from Oga and the child of her hearth. Broud's body was being readied in the back of the cave, yet no one seemed affected by the impending ceremony. Didn't anyone care that their former leader had died? Not even his mate or the sons of his hearth showed emotion.
The sun was nearing the earth when the clan members simultaneously began to prepare in earnest. Food had been cooking all day and had teased their hungry stomachs. Uba had prepared a special dish for the occasion. It had been the mog-ur's favorite especially the way her sister had made it. She would say good-bye to the man who had caused her sister so much pain with the slightly inappropriate dish.
The body had been flexed in a fetal position with red ochre rubbed all over. The items included in the pit were limited. Though he had been the son of a leader and had led himself, his final status had been low. Goov saw to it that he was not given more status than what he had last lived with.
Broud watched the ceremony with an impassive face. Inwardly he vowed that he would punish Goov. After the ceremony when they thought he was a spirit, he would show them all. He would be their leader still.
Goov looked around uneasily. Goosebumps broke out as a cold wind caressed him. Grev felt the malicious wind also, but said nothing. He stored the knowledge in his immense brain. With everyone silent, Goov waited for the opportune moment. He began the motions that would send Broud to the spirit world. Never before had he wanted to be completely sure that he performed a ceremony correctly.
His hands and body danced as he spoke to the spirits in the ancient language of the Clan. He was almost finished when he completely missed a phrase.
Creb's eye widened in surprise. "No!" He motioned frantically, "you must recite it completely for it to be effective. Did I not teach you long ago?"
Goov continued his fluid motions, the rest of the clan unaware of the conflict among them. Finishing his recitation, he dropped his arms feeling vaguely unfinished. Had he done it properly as Creb had shown him? Was this important enough to repeat the process? He looked around at the expectant faces and for the first time, felt powerless.
Creb looked in disappointment at the man he had trained to succeed him. He knew that Goov was not as powerful as he had been, but he was the most talented of their clan. Creb's eye wandered to the faces that trusted in their mog-ur, then back to the one gloating over Goov. Something had to be done.
Gathering his inner strength together, he approached the mog-ur and turned with his back toward him. Slowly, he eased backward until he was within Goov's body.
A gasp escaped the mog-ur as he felt a powerful spirit enter him. Brun looked at him curiously but had no idea what was transpiring. Goov was reminded of the times when his mentor had taken them on journeys. He felt his mind being connected, synapses with synapses until he was one with the spirit. Raising his head purposefully, his eyes lit with the knowledge he had sought to find.
Slowly, his arms raised and he began the process once more. Each motion was made with a deliberateness that ensured accuracy. The clan watched in awe and felt a strange eeriness. The burial ceremony was never repeated. What Goov was now doing struck cords deep in their memories that his first attempt had not done. Brun watched in awe, knowing that the brother of his hearth somehow had a hand in this.
"No!" Broud shouted. He had to stop this. Marching over to the joined mog-urs, he began to push them apart.
Goov felt the conflict and had to concentrate more on the ceremony. He wished he could call other spirits to help him, but it took all his concentration to do this one task.
Thonolan suddenly seemed to realize that he needed to intervene. Creb could not help; he would be weaker than outside a body. No other spirits were around. It was up to him to make sure that Broud made his way to the spirit world. He sprinted toward the mog-urs and tackled Broud.
Angered at the attack, Broud let go of his hold on Goov. Rounding on Onlan, he took a swing. He didn't care that clan men did not hit each other, Onlan was not fully clan.
"Ah!!" He exclaimed as he found himself on the ground. In shock, he realized his fist had gone right through Onlan! Growling his frustration, he jumped up again and swung harder. "Aargh!" He yelled when he found that was also ineffective. Onlan is not stronger than I am! He thought frantically. Bunching his muscles, he charged toward the veejia.
Thonolan was slightly amused by the veejia's attempts to fight him. Broud hadn't had enough time to learn how to move objects with his new veeja. For that, he was thankful. A grin split his face as Broud ploughed straight through him and found himself imbedded in a wall. I should just leave him there, he thought to himself. Turning from the struggling veejia, he looked again at the ceremony. Creb and Goov were finishing; the spirits were coming to take Broud home. He nodded to the Wooly Rhino and Cave Bear who stood patiently for their signal.
With Creb on one side and Onlan on the other, Broud found himself trapped. To his astonishment, he discovered that his feet were no longer in contact with the ground. He watched in horror as the land rushed away from his feet. In all of the ceremonies he'd been a part of, none of them matched this level of supernatural awe.
Thonolan had a sense of déjà vu as they traveled higher and higher until the earth blurred around them. Traveling nearer to the Great Sea, they followed a path to the previous home of the clan. Ayla was leaving and motioning to the people who didn't see her. Broud raised his arm as if to strike.
"She should have been the son of my mate..."
The words wafted up to them and Broud narrowed his eyes. He tried to swoop down on them but was held fast between the mog-ur and Onlan. Time moved forward quickly and slowed again to show the valley of horses. Thonolan's attention was caught as much as Broud's now. There was the trail that he and his brother had journeyed on, a thin thread of a path. Of course, he thought to himself. Two threads that were to be woven together.
Creb brought them along on the same path that he had shown Thonolan long ago. With each amazing scene, Broud's ire increased. She was supposed to be dead. Spirits don't gather food or make fires. But one thing he did notice and it made him glad. No other person saw her. Perhaps the curse was there still and she was a spirit. That would explain the strange behavior of the animals. The firestone also seemed unnatural. Even as a spirit, he had no memory for it.
Thonolan was aware of the tension building inside of Broud. He glanced uneasily at Creb who seemed not to notice. The air around them changed. The scene was all too familiar, and this time Thonolan looked away when Baby attacked.
Broud's eyes grew wide. That is what happened to him and Grev. What did the spirits mean by this? Perhaps Grev would be fine after all, he thought with hope. He watched in fascination, as Onlan became a Watcher with special favor from his Donii or whatever his god was named. He had no respect for the people of the Others who favored a woman-like deity. His eyes narrowed as he fleetingly saw Onlan watching his clan.
Creb brought them to the present time, or the time they knew as the present. Hovering dramatically a few moments, he swept them up toward the future. He enjoyed going to this area; it was an opening he couldn't pass through when he was alive. Both veejias with him were now transfixed on the scene. Though Thonolan had seen it before, he watched with eager anticipation.
The winter passed and the pair set out on the journey home. The passage of time was a blur and each succession of scenes brought them closer to the Zelondonii. A strange thing was taking place that Thonolan had not noticed before. The name "Ayla" was spoken in awe and in the same context of Donii. She was becoming a legend and the stories were spreading.
Broud noticed this too. The stupid people, he thought to himself. Can't they see how willful she is? Can't they see that she is cursed and is only a spirit? No clan member had seen her except for that deformed one in the lion camp and he didn't count. Why should a woman of such low status be given so much favor? She will not win! His mind screamed against it. Always it was Ayla who took the attention from him. Since his manhood ceremony to his leadership she had won. But now, he was a veejia. He could control the things around the lives of the living. She would not win; he would find some way to make her lose. The future was not set, he could change it. He, Broud of the Clan of the Cavebear was now more powerful than she.
Broud tried to shake himself out of the odd sensations he was experiencing. He had no idea how much time had passed since they started the spirit journey. Seasons seemed to have passed, yet he stood in front of the cave looking deceptively like it had only been one day.
Oga bowed her head and affected a look of mourning, though at times she found it difficult to do so. She kept her body in check and acted as a clan woman should. Inwardly she added a skip to her step as freedom lifted her heart. Today was the feast for her mate's burial, and afterwards he would be spoken of no more.
The mantle of grief she displayed was for her youngest son, Grev. Though he was badly injured he would recover. The sorrow was not for his suffering, but for the boy he had been. He was no longer her son, he was now officially the mogul's acolyte; one that followed in the footsteps of Creb. She shuddered and looked quickly around her as if thinking his name could conjure him.
Had Oga known that Creb was already there watching, she would have cowered in fear. Grev's mauled appearance was not lost on the wise mog-ur. As the seasons turn over again, all things come full circle and nature repeats itself.
Thonolan's attention was shifted from Oga and the child of her hearth. Broud's body was being readied in the back of the cave, yet no one seemed affected by the impending ceremony. Didn't anyone care that their former leader had died? Not even his mate or the sons of his hearth showed emotion.
The sun was nearing the earth when the clan members simultaneously began to prepare in earnest. Food had been cooking all day and had teased their hungry stomachs. Uba had prepared a special dish for the occasion. It had been the mog-ur's favorite especially the way her sister had made it. She would say good-bye to the man who had caused her sister so much pain with the slightly inappropriate dish.
The body had been flexed in a fetal position with red ochre rubbed all over. The items included in the pit were limited. Though he had been the son of a leader and had led himself, his final status had been low. Goov saw to it that he was not given more status than what he had last lived with.
Broud watched the ceremony with an impassive face. Inwardly he vowed that he would punish Goov. After the ceremony when they thought he was a spirit, he would show them all. He would be their leader still.
Goov looked around uneasily. Goosebumps broke out as a cold wind caressed him. Grev felt the malicious wind also, but said nothing. He stored the knowledge in his immense brain. With everyone silent, Goov waited for the opportune moment. He began the motions that would send Broud to the spirit world. Never before had he wanted to be completely sure that he performed a ceremony correctly.
His hands and body danced as he spoke to the spirits in the ancient language of the Clan. He was almost finished when he completely missed a phrase.
Creb's eye widened in surprise. "No!" He motioned frantically, "you must recite it completely for it to be effective. Did I not teach you long ago?"
Goov continued his fluid motions, the rest of the clan unaware of the conflict among them. Finishing his recitation, he dropped his arms feeling vaguely unfinished. Had he done it properly as Creb had shown him? Was this important enough to repeat the process? He looked around at the expectant faces and for the first time, felt powerless.
Creb looked in disappointment at the man he had trained to succeed him. He knew that Goov was not as powerful as he had been, but he was the most talented of their clan. Creb's eye wandered to the faces that trusted in their mog-ur, then back to the one gloating over Goov. Something had to be done.
Gathering his inner strength together, he approached the mog-ur and turned with his back toward him. Slowly, he eased backward until he was within Goov's body.
A gasp escaped the mog-ur as he felt a powerful spirit enter him. Brun looked at him curiously but had no idea what was transpiring. Goov was reminded of the times when his mentor had taken them on journeys. He felt his mind being connected, synapses with synapses until he was one with the spirit. Raising his head purposefully, his eyes lit with the knowledge he had sought to find.
Slowly, his arms raised and he began the process once more. Each motion was made with a deliberateness that ensured accuracy. The clan watched in awe and felt a strange eeriness. The burial ceremony was never repeated. What Goov was now doing struck cords deep in their memories that his first attempt had not done. Brun watched in awe, knowing that the brother of his hearth somehow had a hand in this.
"No!" Broud shouted. He had to stop this. Marching over to the joined mog-urs, he began to push them apart.
Goov felt the conflict and had to concentrate more on the ceremony. He wished he could call other spirits to help him, but it took all his concentration to do this one task.
Thonolan suddenly seemed to realize that he needed to intervene. Creb could not help; he would be weaker than outside a body. No other spirits were around. It was up to him to make sure that Broud made his way to the spirit world. He sprinted toward the mog-urs and tackled Broud.
Angered at the attack, Broud let go of his hold on Goov. Rounding on Onlan, he took a swing. He didn't care that clan men did not hit each other, Onlan was not fully clan.
"Ah!!" He exclaimed as he found himself on the ground. In shock, he realized his fist had gone right through Onlan! Growling his frustration, he jumped up again and swung harder. "Aargh!" He yelled when he found that was also ineffective. Onlan is not stronger than I am! He thought frantically. Bunching his muscles, he charged toward the veejia.
Thonolan was slightly amused by the veejia's attempts to fight him. Broud hadn't had enough time to learn how to move objects with his new veeja. For that, he was thankful. A grin split his face as Broud ploughed straight through him and found himself imbedded in a wall. I should just leave him there, he thought to himself. Turning from the struggling veejia, he looked again at the ceremony. Creb and Goov were finishing; the spirits were coming to take Broud home. He nodded to the Wooly Rhino and Cave Bear who stood patiently for their signal.