It smelled like being in the woods, for the first time this year. Winter had announced its farewell two weeks ago, when the first drops detached themselves from the icicles and sank into the snow with a quiet, barely audible splash. With each drop of dew, this sound grew louder. Meanwhile, the ground around the house had been completely cleared of snow and had turned into a field of dark mud, in which anyone who stepped out of the door would sink ankle-deep. Today, for the first time, it smelled of forest floor, old leaves and dew as the bright streaks of dawn appeared above the fog. The forest, frozen into ice, was thawing and slowly, bit by bit, fighting its way back to life. For most of the winter, the Shadow Forest lay under a white, smothering blanket of dense fog. It was only possible to make out the shadowy outlines of the nearest trees. Only the tops of the old pine trees were large enough to rise above the blanket of fog if you climbed high enough on a hill or tree. The fog held you, as if trapped in winter. Although the vast forests, hills and rolling meadows were still there, it felt as if all vastness had disappeared. It was like being packed in wool, unable to move or look around. The incredible size of the Shadow Forest that Linus loved so much in the summer seemed to have shrunk and been confined to a few hundred yards around the house.
The
smell that now crept into his nose for the first time in months
awakened in him the faint hope of the coming spring. His heart, which
yesterday had felt heavy and tightly clutched, now beat freely and
lightly in his chest. It was very early in the morning. The first
light was bidding farewell to the night with its twilight. It was
still bitterly cold—only when the sun had risen above the edge of
the forest, its beams started to warm the frozen nature. After a
restless cold night, Linus had risen before anyone else. The
nervousness, even fear, he had felt in the days before had vanished.
A strange, unexpected calm returned to him that made him see
everything clearly, almost as if he were looking at his life from
outside. It was the morning after the first double full moon of the
year. Just before the beginning of spring, the Pale Moon and the Blue
Moon 1
appeared in the sky, round and large like the eyes of a predator.
This was the morning when traditionally the hunters in the Kemutikon
mountains beyond the ice desert began the hunt. This year, shortly
after his thirteenth day of life, he was supposed to participate for
the first time and prove that he had become a man. He was unfamiliar
with this tradition, as well as with their way of hunting. However,
his father Andrej insisted on continuing this tradition for him.
Andrej was not his real father, he and his brothers had moved in with
him and his mother five years ago. His real father Åke2
had died when Linus was still a little boy, roaming the forest all
day, building dams by the stream and playing hide and seek with the
foxes. He was the only child of Åke and his mother Ulrika, so after
his father's death it became his job to gather the wood, dig up the
potato field, climb high in the fruit and nut trees to harvest the
fruit. Occasionally, he could hunt down rabbits, a few pigeons and
maybe a deer with his bow. At that time, only old Anders lived with
them. There had been no farmhands or maids in the Shadow Forest for
generations; the nearest neighbors lived half a day's walkaway. Only
rarely did Linus and his mother make their way to the nearest village
to trade wood and some fruit from the forest garden for the few
things they desperately needed to live. Anders was old and quiet, but
probably very clever. He had joined them many years ago, when Linus
was very young, and his kind father Åke had taken him in, even
though he could not contribute much to the household work because of
his age. His job was to feed and milk the goats, keep the barn clean,
gather brushwood to start the fire, and teach Linus in the
afternoons. He taught him to read and write. He also showed him all
sorts of things about herbalism and ancient healing arts during their
walks together through the woods. Since his father had died, Anders
had also taught him archery so that they could at least get some meat
on the table now and then. Meanwhile, Linus wasn't doing too badly
with the bow. He even enjoyed going out alone into the forest early
in the morning, watching the animals, sneaking up on them. At just
the right moment, drawing his bow to let the arrow fly at breakneck
speed.
1The
Pale Moon and the Blue Moon are both visible side by side as a full
moon.
2Åke,
old name from the Shadow Forest, is pronounced like "ɔːke",
that is, with O instead of A.
However,
what was expected of him today was something entirely new. The men
from the mountains hunted by rushing the prey animal on horseback and
dropping from the saddle directly onto it, then bringing it down in a
duel with a knife. The younger brother of the father, Fjodor, had
killed a half-grown bear in this way during his first hunt last year.
Since then, he has worn a cape made of bearskin and a necklace with
bears' claw nails. Until now, a deer was the largest animal Linus had
killed. Today, he would not get away with such an easy prey. He was
expected to show courage by putting up a fight with a worthy animal.
After
waking up early, he quietly crept out of his chamber, sat on the
bench in front of the house. He looked at the woods and sharpened his
knife with a whetstone. His life might depend on how quickly the
knife could kill the wild animal when he attacked. He would rather
not take any risks, and he wanted to get on his horse as prepared as
he could be. Linus disliked his mother's new husband, and neither his
brothers. They were rough and coarse, had a terribly crude sense of
humor, besides they drank too much of the birch wine 1
his mother made in the spring. Their horses were of greater value to
them than a boy, so they usually left him alone, as well as Fjodor.
Fjodor was only a year older than him. He was a shy boy who was
obviously as uncomfortable in the company of his brothers as Linus
was. Without Fjodor, who had trained with him to push off from his
horse in a fast ride, he would certainly have no chance in the hunt
today. Except for the joint training, however, he also had little in
common with Fjodor. He would rather call him a fellow sufferer than a
friend. He personally was a child of the forest, Fjodor, on the other
hand, loved his horse more than the land.
1Birch
wine: In spring, the sap of the birch can be tapped by scratching
the bark of the tree. It contains sugar and can be boiled down to
syrup or fermented to wine.
Now
he heard a rumbling from the barn. It would not be long before his
father appeared with his brothers, and they had to leave for the
hunt. Andrej himself lived with Ulrika and their common four-year-old
son Marius in the large chamber in the house. Linus shared the small
chamber there with Anders. The barn served as a stable for the riding
horses, which the mountain men would not have parted with for
anything in the world. Besides, the brothers had made up the hayloft
there; they preferred to sleep near their horses. However, it was
Linus' mother who appeared first. She quietly stepped out of the
house, settled down next to him, and handed him a cup of warm goat's
milk steaming in the cold. With every look she gave him, a plea for
forgiveness seemed to resonate. She knew how much Linus despised her
new husband Andrej, but feared him at the same time. Linus was quite
sure: it had not been a marriage of love.
Once
upon a time, not many people lived in the Shadow Forest; only rarely
did wanderers pass by. His mother, Anders, and he had been on their
own after the death of his father. They lived alone in the house that
had belonged to his father and before that to his grandfather. It was
a fairly large house for the area, built on a stone base, but the
walls and roof were carpentered from logs. There was a tiny shed
where they kept their tools, a small goat shed and the barn. It used
to house only the old mare that his mother had brought to the Shadow
Forest many years ago, and the mule on which Anders rode here.
Much
of the work and the great burden of responsibility lay on the
shoulders of Linus' mother. He himself fulfilled the tasks that could
be assigned to him as a boy, though he was still mostly defiant and
disappointed that his forays into the forest had to end abruptly.
About five years ago, their hard but thoroughly peaceful life changed
when groups of hunters from the Kemutikon Mountains north of the Ice
Desert came to the Shadow Forest with increasing frequency. Living
conditions there were truly harsh. In the heights above the Ice
Desert, there was little vegetation and hardly any fertile soil. The
families there moved like nomads from one place to another in the
hope of finding better game or harvesting berries and herbs from the
barren plants of the mountain soil. The winters of the last few years
had been particularly hard, so the people in the mountains beyond the
Ice Desert were hardly able to feed their families. Therefore, more
and more hunters were moving through the unforgiving Ice Desert to
try their luck in the Shadow Forest. Only the toughest and strongest
men and women survived the journey through the endless ice. Those who
made it to the Shadow Forest were eager to build a new life for
themselves. They were as hard and ruthless as the Ice Desert itself.
They took what they found, driving families from their farms,
claiming the land and game in the region.
Linus'
mother had been afraid. Afraid of losing her house, afraid of not
being able to survive without the forest and garden, afraid of being
separated from her son, and even afraid of losing her life if the
nomads came to her. More than once groups of hunters came through the
forest, but did not find the house and moved on. Then one day, Ulrika
was washing clothes at the stream when she was spotted by a horseman.
Immediately, she was surrounded by four burly men on their heavy,
long-haired horses. The men were traveling alone, five brothers, the
youngest of whom was still a boy. They seemed to have no wives, and
it was Ulrika's good fortune that she was a widow but still young
enough for more children. Andrej, the oldest brother, who was
obviously in charge, liked her from the first moment. Quickly, he
revealed his interest in her. In his rough, tough way, he seemed to
love her sincerely and honestly. None of the brothers, but also no
other man, would dare to touch her, Ulrika knew that from the moment
Andrej demanded her to become his wife. He was tall, dark, and pithy
like old wood, but several years younger than her. For her and Linus,
it was a way to return to a life where they would not have to be
nakedly afraid for survival every day. There was probably little
alternative for them. She had talked before about going back to the
villages of Brugau country. Back to the place of her childhood.
Perhaps she could have stayed with her Aunt Odette. But she lacked
the courage to move back among people after so many years in
solitude. Now that Andrej and his brothers were here, there was only
the choice of a life together with them, or no life at all. But the
hope that everything would turn out well for them and their son soon
proved to be in vain. They suffered no lack and were protected, but
life with these men from foreign lands was anything but relaxed.
Linus noticed how his mother became more tired and sad from moon to
moon 1.
Earlier, when his father Åke had been alive, she had been cheerful,
laughed a lot and made jokes. That was a long time ago now, a dream
from early childhood.
1From
moon to moon denotes the period of about one month.
Now, on the morning of his first big hunt, his mother's eyes were even sadder than usual. He could tell from the red lids that she had cried during the night. Now she sat next to him, and he was glad that they could just greet the morning in silence. Any words would have been too much between them today. Even so, he knew what she wanted to say to him. Then the barn door opened, Andrej and his brothers came into the yard with their horses already saddled. Linus' mother hurriedly got up and went into the house to fix milk and chestnut bread for the men as well. Andrej caught sight of the boy in front of the house and shouted across the yard, "Linus, fetch your horse if you don't want to go hunting on foot. We're not waiting for a late riser." Linus put down his cup, then went into the barn to saddle the horse, his mother had given him. A few moments after him, Anders also entered the barn and started to tackle the old mule. Linus looked at him in amazement as the old man led the animal, saddled and loaded with bags, next to his mare. He was still sitting up in the barn, his bow, and quiver strapped to his back. The old man saw the questioning look on Linus' face and replied, "Close your mouth again, boy, you know me badly if you thought I'd let you go hunting alone with those mountain lions." Linus gave him a smile and trotted out through the gate into the courtyard, where simultaneously the mountain men were preparing to mount their horses as well. Five sturdy, shaggy horses were already in the yard. Andrej, at thirty-one, was the oldest of the brothers. He was tall and strong, had thick black hair and a broad mustache. His eyes were dark, so dark that they looked mostly black. When he was angry or bored, his bushy, dark eyebrows drew together, and his eyes looked as if they lay deep in shadowy hollows in his head. His brothers Pjotre and Iwan looked very much like him, but they were shorter and narrower than he was. His brother Dimitri, who was only twenty-one, had blue eyes and looked dreamy. When he talked to the others, he often told them that he would soon find a wife and move to the village. The others laughed at him, ruffled his straight hair as if it could drive the fluff out of his head, and poked him in the side. Dimitri was slimmer and more delicately built than the others. Fjodor had once mentioned to Linus that they had different fathers, but all descended from the same mother, named Dunja. They all shared the name Dragov. Their family history could be traced back over a thousand years to a woman named Donja Dragov, who was also known as the Terrible Queen. Fjodor did not look much like his older brothers. He was just as powerfully built and had no trouble pinning Linus to the ground in their wrestling matches, which they practiced in the grass during the summer. His skin and hair were lighter than his brothers', however, and he didn't seem to share their hardheartedness. He was the only one who occasionally kept an eye on Marius, taking him to see the horses or showing him the little rabbits in the woods. When his brothers were out hunting and didn't come home for several days, he went to Ulrika's aid, taking care of his little nephew and helping with the housework. Today, he was just as much a part of the venture as Linus, even though the test Linus now faced lay behind him. He had to hold back this time until Linus had completed his task.
As
usual, the Dragovs were noisy when Linus joined them. They joked;
Ivan tried to push Pjotre out of the saddle, but was unsuccessful. He
got even when he deftly turned his horse and cut the leather straps
holding Ivan's saddlebags with a slice of his hunting knife, letting
the bag fall to the ground. "If you finish the kid stuff soon,
we may be able to ride off before the sun is high in the sky,"
Andrej thundered, giving his horse a kick in the flanks and dashing
out of the yard first. Fjodor grinned at Linus, then followed him as
fast as he could. The others set off as well, leaving Ivan's bags
behind, and with them his lunch. Anders and Linus were the last to
leave, but Anders encouraged him to catch up with the riders, since
he couldn't keep up the pace with his mule anyway. Linus gave him a
look over his shoulder, expressing his thanks to the old man. He
nodded briefly and then returned to trotting his mount. Linus dashed
off and chased after the other horses. His heart was pounding. He
didn't feel particularly comfortable on the back of a horse, even
though his mare was gentle as a lamb and very skilled. The cold
morning air turned his hair, damp with dew, to ice, and the cold of
the forest enveloped him. Soon he had caught up with the riders who
were riding toward the center of the deep forest. By now they had
stopped joking and bawling, instead riding quietly as they stalked
through the dense undergrowth. The first hours of the day passed, but
so far, they had had no luck, for they had not yet encountered any
worthwhile prey. 'Why should they go so deep into the forest?
Wouldn't it make more sense to look for game in the clearings and
field edges?' wondered Linus. Andrej was used to hunting in the
mountains and the edges of the Ice Desert. In the dense forest,
different hunting techniques would certainly be advisable than in the
mountains.
Linus
was still pondering his father's plans and tactics when the man
stopped his horse and signaled the others to stop as well. He had
spotted something and beckoned Linus to join him. From the posture of
the rest of his companions, Linus realized that it must be a powerful
prey they were on the trail of. Perhaps they had found a bear or a
wild beaver that could grow as large as a full-grown pig and bite
through a man's arm with one blow. Neither would be easy prey waiting
for him there. However, what he saw when he came to a halt next to
Andrej made his blood run cold. Beneath the gentle hill they had just
climbed from the east, he saw two Chain Wolves. They were
considerably smaller than ordinary wolves, about the size of a
full-grown sheepdog, and had long, fluffy gray fur. 'They had to look
cute and harmless according to a stranger,' it flashed through Linus'
mind. But he had learned a lot from Anders about the animals of the
forest, so now he knew why these animals were called Chain Wolves.
Under their bushy, soft fur there was a very dense undercoat, as
strong and sturdy as a wire mesh, to protect the whole animal like
chain mail. No ordinary arrow or knife could hurt them. Under this
cozy fur hid a strong wolf, ready to fight at any time, with claws
and a strong bite. Against these two wild animals, he had no chance
to survive. Not if he was armed only with a knife. The only means to
break through the wire armor was fire. But no fire was lit far and
wide, and besides, he suspected that the Dragov brothers would not
deviate from their traditional fighting technique one bit. Somehow,
Linus had to attempt to stop the approaching disaster.
There
were two wolves, probably a couple of them because Chain Wolves were
loners and did not live in packs. If they were expecting offspring,
they would not be content with wrestling down one attacker, but would
attack the entire group. Linus gathered all his courage. "Father
Andrej," he whispered to the man on the horse to his right.
"These are Chain Wolves, you can't defeat them with a knife …"
A wave of his father's hand and his icy gaze silenced him. "I
didn't expect you to succeed in the hunt, boy. However, I had thought
you would have more courage. I thought you would at least try. I
guess I was wrong, you seem more like a girl than a man." He
gave Linus another scowl, then let his horse trot down the hill. 'He
doesn't know,' Linus thought to himself. He didn't know Chain Wolves,
blinded by their harmless appearance. Without another thought, he
rode down the hill behind Andrej. The latter had soon reached the
wolves, which snarled at him with bared teeth, and took up position
around his horse. Holding his hunting knife in his right hand, he
rode toward the largest of the wolves, then pushed off from the
saddle, as was the traditional way of hunting in the mountains beyond
the Ice Desert. At first, the Chain Wolf was under him, surprised by
the sudden attack, but when the knife thrusts had no effect, it was
soon the wolf that gained the upper hand, trapping Andrej under its
heavy body. Linus, who was close to the battle on his horse, could
see Andrej trying to keep the Chain Wolves' sharp teeth away from
him. He clutched the animal's neck, trying to push it away instead.
Soon red blood was flowing down his arms. The wolf was fast and
agile, it had bitten more than once. Andrej needed all his strength
to keep it away from his face. Then he managed to roll over the wolf,
pinning it to the ground as best he could. The Chain Wolves didn't
put up with it for long and crawled backwards out of the embrace,
only to attack again at the same moment it had fought its way free.
This time, Andrej was so surprised that his guard gave way. The sharp
wolf's teeth smashed into his throat. The female wolf had followed
the fight with bared teeth and constant growling, but kept herself at
some distance.
Just
at the moment Linus reached this wolf and was about to throw himself
off his horse, a flash of fire hissed past his right ear. It had to
be a flaming arrow that had been shot from behind at the struggling
Chain Wolves, striking it in the neck. A second, then a third,
followed immediately, wounding the Chain Wolf in the throat as well
as between the ribs. Another bolt of fire twitched through the snow,
but landed between the feet of the other wolf at Linus' side without
injuring it. The smaller Chain Wolve raised his head, looking in the
direction from which the fire came, looking at Linus crouched in the
snow beside him, ready to fight out a hopeless wrestling match. The
female wolf looked him straight into the eyes, making Linus think for
a moment that she was trying to tell him that she would not forget
him. Then another flash of fire flew through the air. The wolf turned
around and disappeared into the forest quickly. Linus looked at the
small smoldering fires in the snow. They were arrows that had been
set on fire. Linus looked around. The other men had gathered around
the dead wolf and Andrej, who was lying on the ground. In the
direction from which the arrows had come flying, a man stood on the
crest of the hill with his bow cocked. It took Linus a moment to
recognize in this man his mentor Anders. He had not expected to see
him so soon, with the group that had ridden ahead of him by some
distance. Most of all, he was puzzled by his battle-ready posture. He
no longer looked like the old man he had been lately.
While
Linus still couldn't believe what had just happened, Anders came
sprinting down the hill, stowing the bow back on his back as he did
so, jumped on Linus's horse. He reached out a hand to pull him into
the saddle behind him. With a suspicious look at the Dragov brothers,
of whom only Fjodor seemed to notice what was going on around him
while everyone else was bent over Andrej and the wolf, he hissed at
Linus, “Come on, get on, we have to get out of here fast!” Linus
swung up to join him on his mare. He caught another glimpse of
Fjodor, presently Anders redirected the horse and spurred it up the
hill. The boy looked him straight in his eyes and nodded slowly at
him. Still quite dazed by the events and the rapid turn of fortune,
he tried to comprehend what had been going on. Anders grabbed the
reins of the mule to pull it behind him. He asked Linus over his
shoulder if he was hurt, then gave the horse a kick in the flanks
when the boy denied the question. Through the icy forest glistening
in the midday sun, the mare led them unerringly back home. The mule
had no choice but to keep up somehow.
'What
just happened?', Linus tried to sort out his thoughts. His father was
certainly dead. There had been so much blood, the spot around the man
and the wolf had turned red. You didn't survive an attack from a
Chain Wolf that was trying to protect his family. He himself probably
owed his life also only to the fire arrows. Where had the fire come
from? Certainly, Anders had shot the arrows with his bow, but how had
he made them burn so quickly? What were they fleeing from now, and
what—for the goddesses' sake—had happened to Anders? Who was this
agile, strong man, and where was the aged fellow he had known half
his life? These thoughts flashed through his mind as they rode
through the forest. But the thought that crossed his mind when they
saw the house lying in the hollow sent an ice-cold shiver down Linus'
spine. What would happen to them now? They had left Andrej and his
brothers in the forest. His mother's husband, who had sheltered her
for the past few years, was presumably dead. What would the Dragov
brothers do? Would they stay here, with his mother and their nephew
Marius? Would they return to the Kemutikon Mountains? What was to
become of him? Had it been appropriate to just ride away? He thought
of the look Anders had given him when he pulled him up on the horse,
and of the look in Fjodor's eyes when they left rushing. Somehow he
knew that everything would change, that he had indeed become a man,
even if the day had gone differently than his father had planned.