The Shamans at the End of Time, page 12
“Get out of my way!” Turgil shouted in fake rage. He punched Vlad’s chest, pushing him to the ground.
That moment, when Vlad’s back hit the ground, the eyes of the many people gathered in front of the Shamane’s house played a strange dance, and it was not Vlad they were looking at. Maduk’s stare bored into Darn, the Chief of the Hunters. Moira’s eyes begged Darn to interfere and help Vlad and the clan’s pride, at the same time. Darn acknowledged her plea, yet feigned ignorance, his eyes moving away, catching Maduk’s meaningful stare. There was nothing cold in Darn’s reactions, just nervous strain and a spark of hate for Moira. Maduk chose that moment to show a thin smile, and he nodded at Darn. The whole ballet of glances took no more than a few seconds. Moira stepped forward, trying to reach the fighting men, before it was too late, her face already composed.
Ignored by almost everybody, Turgil jumped on Vlad, shouting a fighting cry, trying to pin him to the ground and savor an easy victory. His chest met a pair of hard military boots, and he flew over the fallen man’s body, turning in the air like an involuntary gymnast before hitting the ground with his back, unable to understand what had happened to him. He grunted, almost paralyzed by the shock. A worried groan escaped Maduk, his mind unable to grasp the sudden misfortune and pain of his fellow Kalach. That was when all eyes moved back to the combatants, trying to understand what had happened. Their next blink brought another puzzle: with a speed that left them bewildered, Vlad was already standing. His right foot exploded into Turgil’s ribs, compressing his chest, turning him face down on the grass. Another blink, and the steel of his bayonet touched the Kalach’s neck. The defeated man was almost unconscious, and he could barely breathe.
“Let him go, Vlad.” Moira spoke calmly, a hint of pleasure enveloping her voice.
“He tried to kill me,” Vlad panted, pressing the knife harder, keeping an eye on the Kalachs, who reluctantly stepped toward him. “If they come any closer, they will die.” He pointed at the Kalachs, who seemed ready to attack.
“No, no, everything is well; it was just a game Turgil likes to play, sometimes with unintended consequences.” She turned her head, and flashed a genuine smile at Maduk, the Kalach deputy Chief. “Let him go, Vlad,” she repeated.
Maduk’s right hand gestured brusquely, stopping his men from advancing. “The game was worth playing,” he said in a bland voice. “It was a pleasure to the mind to watch such skills in action. This man is a worthy warrior.” He pointed at Vlad.
“Yes, we all enjoyed it,” Moira answered in the same neutral tone, her eyes deliberately fixed on Maduk, just to be sure that he had caught her amused expression. “Now let’s enjoy our lunch together.”
Keeping calm, Maduk nodded, and followed her. Two of his warriors lifted the fallen man; they joined the table later, when they were sure that Turgil’s rage had subsided, and he could behave. Maduk had made that plain to them. At the table, Maduk broke protocol again, and instead of sitting opposite Rune, he took the seat opposite Selma. Moira frowned, but said nothing.
He wants to study Vlad, she thought, as he was sitting next to Selma. No, he is studying Selma, she suddenly realized, and glanced at Edna, who nodded, already aware of the situation. I hope he is not going to ask to mate with her. The high ranking Kalachs liked to take Vlahin mates, but they usually stole them.
The food was served and, for a while, everybody stayed silent. Moira wanted to let the Kalachs boil a little more; Maduk needed to rethink his strategy.
Maduk took a swallow of water from his beaker made from an auroch horn and set it down on the table with a sigh. There is nothing in that man that speaks of danger. Maduk looked at Vlad from the corner of his eye. Yet, he defeated Turgil so easily. I would have no chance against him either. Maduk was the strongest warrior in his clan. What kind of Vlahin is he? A warrior from the north? He had heard rumors in the past that the further one travelled north, the stronger the Vlahins were. “Soon we will come to exchange goods,” he said finally, almost absently. “My mother desires some good furs.”
“Everything will be ready,” Rune said, in the same absent way.
“We have many things to trade.” Maduk’s hand slid over the table, his fingers drumming the wood. Briefly, he glanced at Darn.
Knowing that the Vlahins had fewer things to trade than the Kalachs, Rune just nodded.
“I heard that you have new weapons,” Darn said.
“Yes,” Maduk replied. “They are made of copper and better than everything else.” He took the axe from the belt at his waist and placed it on the table. Slowly, he pushed it toward the middle, letting the Vlahins decide who would look at it first.
“It looks different,” Rune said, indifferently, without reaching for the weapon.
Darn reacted as planned, and took the axe from the table. His thumb slid over the edge. “It’s sharp.”
“There is nothing stronger than copper,” Maduk bragged. “Our people are able to make many things.”
“Steel,” Vlad said, sensing that Maduk wanted to embarrass Moira. If I am on Earth, and near the Danube, we may be just before the start of the Cris-Starcevo culture. They just learned how to smelt copper. Agriculture is coming into Europe from Middle East. The Kalachs will move north and west, taking over the hunter-gatherer indigenous people.
“What’s steel?” Maduk asked. Is his knife made of steel?
“Something stronger than copper.”
“Can we see some steel?”
“Maybe,” Vlad said.
“Copper is good for many things, not only for weapons.” Maduk settled his left hand on the table, and placed a small figurine, tied on a rope necklace, onto the wood. He pushed it slowly toward Selma. “Have a look.”
Selma found herself in the center of the discussion, in a way that she both liked and disliked. She did not want to react in front of Moira, and she did not want to upset Maduk. She looked at the little copper bird and nodded.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Maduk insisted.
“Yes, it is.” Cornered, Selma finally spoke, strangely pleased by Maduk’s attention.
“It’s yours.”
“Is any meaning in your gift?” Moira asked.
“No, it was spontaneous. I apologize, if you feel offended by my gesture, and I hope that Selma will enjoy wearing it.”
“Edna will give you a fur for your mother.” That piece is too expensive...
“From mother to mother.” Maduk laughed, pleased by the double meaning of his words, and for a while no one spoke.
Selma’s fingers were burning to pick up the bird – it was a great gift – but she had to wait until Edna nodded to her. The approval came faster than she expected, but her mother had guessed that the more she made her wait, the more impatient she would be. Selma’s hand closed around the bird and her eyes locked with Maduk’s. She smiled timidly, and he returned her smile.
When lunch ended, several people stood up and left the table. Of the Kalachs, only Maduk remained seated.
“You must leave too,” Selma whispered to Vlad, who was not aware that only the leaders would stay for the next part of the conversation.
“Fine, let’s go.”
“I have to stay.”
He frowned and glanced briefly at Maduk, then left the table, throwing an unhappy stare at Selma.
“Quite a strong man,” Maduk said, his eyes following Vlad. “He seemed afraid to leave you alone with me.” He stared at Selma this time. “Am I such a scary man?” His eyes bored into hers, and the memory of when he saved her from rape came back to her.
“No, you were kind to me,” Selma said, her voice pleasant.
“You should have chosen somebody else for your little game,” Rune said. “Turgil was too obviously looking for a fight.”
“Turgil is always looking for a fight. He has more muscles than brain. Isn’t that so, Selma?” he asked, knowing well that Turgil was one of the two Kalachs who had tried to rape her.
“You should know better,” she said, an involuntary smile on her lips.
“Of, yes, I know it. We came in peace, nobody wanted to play any games. I am glad that blood was not spilled.” Soon, I will come after Selma. She likes me too, and in a month she will be my mate.
“We don’t like to spill blood,” Rune said. “The Mother cares for all her children. You are a bit different.”
“The Great Bull has strength. Now and then, he likes a bit of blood.”
“The Mother has both strength and compassion,” Moira retorted.
“Let the Gods talk to each other,” Maduk replied. I need to end this conversation, it’s not going in the right direction. Who could have guessed that Turgil would lose the fight? “They will find their way to tell us what to do next. It was a pleasant meal. Thank you. Moira, Rune.” He stood up and bowed toward them. “I hope to see you again,” Maduk said to Selma, who blushed, and he turned away, before Moira would cut in. Seeing him walking away, Moira decided to remain silent, yet she took note of Selma’s reaction. So did Edna.
“Next time he comes, I want Selma out of the way,” Edna whispered to Moira. We may have a problem because he saved her four years ago.
Yes, Moira nodded, yet somehow the thought of a peaceful mating between a Vlahin and a Kalach passed through her mind. Maybe this is the way to a longer peace. But there is no bond between them. I can’t force this on Selma.
Without consciously knowing why, Vlad was thoughtful and in bad mood that evening, and wanted to be alone. Sensing his irritation, from the moment he had to leave the table and leave Selma alone, Edna decided differently, and followed him through the small forest behind the village.
“Walking?” she asked with a smile.
“Walking.”
“Are they the same people who chased you when you arrived here?”
“I suppose so, but they were too far away, and I was too scared to be sure.”
“What would change if you knew for sure?”
“I don’t know,” Vlad shrugged. “Wisdom may come to me at some point, but I will not go and attack them, and there is no need to know more to see that the Kalachs are violent people. We have a saying: That’s a wonderful place, too bad it’s inhabited. It’s bad that the southern shore of the river is inhabited by the Kalachs.”
“We did not choose them as neighbors,” Edna said, edgily. “That was once Vlahin land. The Kalachs invaded it a long time ago, killing many people, but at least we know now. We’ve defeated them five times, when they tried to take our village too. Is there anything else that bothers you?”
“Is there a bond between Selma and Maduk?”
“Do you feel the bond between Malva and Rand?”
“Yes.”
“Then you will know if there is such thing between her and somebody else. Selma has another bond, with a young man from another clan, and there can’t be more than two bonds.” It may happen, rarely, but you will learn this later. There is no need to upset you now. “Twice a year, he comes to see her, in spring and in autumn. You will feel their bond. Vlad,” Edna said gently, “there are no bonds between Vlahins and Kalachs. Some time ago, Maduk saved Selma from the hands of that hothead, Turgil, and she is grateful to him. That’s all.”
“And if Maduk asks for her as his mate?”
“We never give our daughters to them. There are no bonds, and the girls would suffer.”
“They may kidnap her...”
“That’s true, they often try to kidnap Vlahin women. From what we saw today, Selma has a bond with someone who can defend her well.”
“Have you visited their village?” There still was some tension in Vlad’s voice, and he did not look at Edna.
“Yes, I was there once.”
“Are their houses trapezoidal?”
“What does trapezoidal mean?”
“I am sorry. I am ignorant and had to use a word from my language.” Vlad looked around, searching for a spot without leaves. “Let’s go over there.” He pointed at a spot under a small ridge, where a sandy patch could be seen. Walking, he picked a stick up from the ground and, when they got to the bare patch, he draw a trapezoid and a rectangle on the ground. “Do you know this form?” He tapped the rectangle with the stick.
“Rectangle,” Edna said in Vlahin.
“Your houses have a rectangle at their base.” He looked at Edna, who nodded. “This is a trapezoid.” He tapped again, this time on his second drawing.“Do the Kalach huts have this form at their base?”
“Trapezoid,” she repeated, and enriched the Vlahin language with a new word. “Some of them, yes, but how did you know that?” Selma looked at him, trying to understand if he had already entered the Mother’s Web. Both she and Moira had guessed, after the River Dance, that Vlad had a strong Shaman Vein, though they were not able to feel it, because of his strange mind.
“I can’t explain now.” This is Earth, he thought, and we are at the Danube’s Iron Gate. My Earth, or an alternate version of it. And across the Danube is Lepenski Vir. It will become the largest village on Earth for more than a thousand years. A melting pot of people from Asia Minor, who discovered agriculture and animal husbandry, and hunter-gatherer locals. I wish I knew what year we are in now. He tried to remember more from disparate fragments of memory, just to find an anchor to a specific period, but nothing more came to him. I am not able to sort it. Sorry, uncle; he almost smiled.
Silence fell between them, each bothered by their own inner thoughts; there were important matters at stake.
He entered the Mother’s Web without knowing, and saw the Kalach village, across the river, Edna decided. But to see places, you must go into the second River of Thought. I need the sacred mushrooms to enter that River. How could he do it without using them? Is he stronger than we thought? He may become a strong shaman, but there is no one to initiate him. The shamanes can only make his second initiation, which is much weaker, and it’s driven by the newly initiated shaman, not by us. Our last shaman died more than fifty years ago. It would be a pity, if Vlad can’t evolve to what was meant for him by the Mother. I need to talk with Moira.
Chapter 11 - Vlad
“Vlad you are here for some time already, and we need to understand each other better. You have some shaman power that maybe dormant. We need to make a High Communion.” Moira’s eyes are fixed on me, like she wants to find a way into my brain. I know now from what happened with Edna during the Condor song that a shamane can do that, but at the moment I don’t feel anything. “It’s important for us, and it’s important for you too. There is power in you, Vlad. We need to learn more about it.”
“What is a High Communion?”
“Two people share their minds in the Mother’s Web. It’s done through a River of Thought. You are one of the few people able to enter the Second River of Thought. We know this from the River Dance. It may be that you have the Shaman Vein, but we are not able to feel it. You are ... different. The strongest Communion happens after the woman and the man make love.” Moira’s voice is bland, as if she was speaking about shaking hands.
“No,” I say firmly, yet I feel pressure mounting in me, from her eyes, from her mind. Moira’s naked body resurfaces in my mind. So does my fear. I fear what Rune will do if he learns about the ‘Communion’. “Stop doing this,” I snap, feeling the pressure mounting even more. I want the ‘Communion’; I can see Moira, naked in my arms, and I already know from the River Dance that she has a wonderful body, younger than her thirty-four years.
“I am not doing anything. There is no value in an unwanted Communion. Your desire is natural. Every soul wants to reach the Mother’s Web. It’s the highest spiritual bond that we can achieve.” Moira frowns at me, seemingly unable to understand my reticence.
“I won’t,” I say flatly and stand up, ready to leave.
“Vlad,” Edna says, gently. “I suppose that your ways are different, but for us this is something normal. It happens rarely, and only when we need guidance.”
“What does rarely mean for you?” I ask, a touch of cynicism in my voice.
“I have twice had a High Communion with a man,” Moira says. “Once, when I was initiated as a shamane. That was with a Vlahin man. The second time, it was a Kalach. I needed to understand them. That’s it.”
“Is Rune aware of this?”
“Of course he knows about them. I would not hide such things from him. He is part of my life. Even when it is done with a Kalach, a Communion is sacred.”
“You can talk with Rune.” Edna seems to understand better my reluctance yet, while she realizes that we are different, she doesn’t realize how different we are, and that two months here have only scratched the surface of my old way of thinking. I am not a Vlahin. Not yet. It may take a few years to fully integrate in their society, and some things in me will still scream “man from the twenty-first century”, with its good and bad habits.
“No way,” I say, and shake my head, vehemently. Talking to a man about making love with his wife is the last thing I want. It doesn’t matter that they call it Communion, it’s still the same thing: a man and a woman, naked in the same bed, pleasing each other.
“Vlad.” Edna takes my hand, looking at me, and I avoid her stare, afraid she will enter my mind again. “It’s not what you think. It’s not like you make love with your mate; it’s spiritual, and there is no shame in making a Communion. You join the Mother.” She stares at me, but I only shake my head.
“Would you consider making the Communion with Edna?” Moira asks.
“No.” I know they are upset, but I can’t give a different answer, even though I feel pressure coming from both, through subtle actions that I can’t understand, and another layer of pressure from my own hormones. Silence engulfs us, and no one seems able to break it.
