Chapter 8
The An’kalym,
Chapter 38th year of Toghon Temur
(NE Siberia, 1368)
We had arrived late in the day, and Kaidu was in his tent meeting with the headman of the Chavchuvat village. Both were very glad to see me. I presented Paula and the other couple. Kaidu was very cordial to Paula and congratulated me on finding a fine-looking and hardy wife. He was more formal with Padraig and Mathilde and asked them to stand by in another yurt until he had the time to speak to them. As they were escorted out, I gave them an encouraging smile. Kaidu motioned Paula and me to sit, and the headman congratulated me and invited us and, of course, Kaidu to his village for a feast in honor of the occasion the next evening. He regretted he could not accommodate the whole Ordu. He complimented me on the size and strength of our “tribe” and on our choice of leaders. He had apparently been much impressed with Kaidu. He took his leave to get things ready for the feast.
“He was frightened out of his wits,” Kaidu began. “He is now almost giddy with relief that we intend to move on. Unfortunately, we have made quite a mess of the land wherever we go, and he was afraid we would take all the forage from his reindeer. It is easy to see why all the villages up here are so small; the land could never support any large group. I’ve given him some of our grain to make up for his losses and promised to leave the day after tomorrow. I’ve also told him he could keep the horses, and presented him with one of our bows, a quiver of arrows and a fine-looking sword. I thought he earned it for all his help to you and Juchi. Do you agree?”
“Definitely.” I nodded. “He was of immeasurable help to us. I must see that he gets his dogsled and dogs back also.”
“No need,” Kaidu chuckled, “they are his gift to me, and mine back to you. How did you ever keep those nasty creatures from killing each other?”
“With difficulty.” I smiled, ruefully. “They are vicious brutes, but indispensable in the winter.”
“We will dispense with them, however,” he shrugged. “We have made runners for the wagons and have come up with a type of boot for the horses pulling the carts. Your brother can show you one. They’re made of sealskin, and cost us quite a bit in trade along the way, but they should help the horses pull their loads across the ice. We won’t know for sure until the winter, but it should work well. It was Givevneu’s idea.”
“That just might work,” I said. “It never occurred to me to do something about the horses hooves. What a marvelous idea. Where is the shaman? I’d like Paula to meet him.”
“He is over in the Chavchuvat village,” Kaidu answered. “He is talking shop with his counterpart. He’ll call on you when he returns. Meanwhile, I must thank you again. Everything was as you said, and your map was perfect up to here. Of course, beyond this point it is rather sketchy. How nice that you have caught up with us in time to remedy the situation. We cannot stay in any one place very long. It quickly becomes a quagmire. I know the final leg must be made in winter, and it is not far away, but meanwhile we must keep moving, so why not in the proper direction? I’ll need you to find us places to camp some fifteen to twenty li apart in the general direction we’re going. And, of course, I need you to map.”
“Of course,” I replied. “It is a pleasure to be back in your service.”
“Good,” he nodded. “Now, as to these Ferengi you have brought along. Why did you bring them along, and just who are they?”
I explained who they were and the circumstances under which they came along and how I only told them about the Ordu when it became obvious that we were following more than just my kinsmen. I also assured him that they did not know what our final destination was, but only that we were on an “adventure” and that they seemed to be fine couple who would be an asset to the Ordu, but I had made them no promise and their final disposition was indeed up to him and they fully realized it. He seemed satisfied with my explanation and sent me off to see my family. He thanked me again and promised to send the “new Ferengi” to me after his interview.
Paula wanted to wait for their interview, but I told her it was best to go and meet my family and let the chips fall where they may. We went to my brother’s tent and my nephews came running up all excited to show me how they had taken care of the dogs and the sled in my absence. I introduced them to Paula, and they bounded off to get their parents. Henry and Doqus rushed out to meet us, and we were warmly embraced and ushered in to meet Yesui. She rose slowly but looked Paula over carefully, then turned to me.
“You have chosen well, my son,” she began. “She looks strong. But she is not yet with child? You couldn’t have been riding night and day to get back to us or you would have been here much sooner. Did not your grandfather instruct you in your duties? Are you ill or injured?”
“No, Mother.” I blushed crimson, much to everyone’s amusement. “I’m fine. Paula is likely not yet with child from all the riding we have done, not from any abstinence. And you know very well my grandfather taught me all I needed to know. I daresay you found my father adequately instructed.”
This set her off into a gleeful cackle that lasted a little too long. I turned apologetically toward Paula, but found she was laughing almost as hard but with more gentility. I got the feeling the two of them were going to get along just fine. Yesui finally got control of herself, and she and Doqus took Paula off to show her how to set up the yurt she had made for us. I told Henry about our grandfathers and what had happened in Khanbalikh according to Paula and the others. He sighed and said it was just as well we were leaving nothing behind to worry about. That was true, there were no bonds left to tie us to our birthplace. We easily agreed on a division of the horses and the herds, for I would be setting up my own household. I insisted that he keep the bulk of both, since he had been solely responsible for them for so long and besides, I didn’t want to overburden Paula so soon.
Padraig and Mathilde were brought to the yurt just then. I was relieved to see that both were smiling when they entered, and indeed, they had received permission to stay, but in my “custody.” I introduced them to my brother and my nephews and the latter took Mathilde off to help with the yurt. I told them they would, of course, stay with Paula and me as long as they wished. Padraig was much impressed with Kaidu, and felt that the Khanate might have had a different fate if he had been Khan. He was grateful that he could stay with the Ordu and that he could learn our ways from Paula and me. He was determined not to be a burden. Padraig and I had a strange relationship. I think we respected each other more that we liked each other, but that was enough. Paula and Mathilde were like very close sisters, and I was glad they had each other for it looked like I’d be away quite a bit again.
The women returned and led us to see my new yurt. It was magnificent. Yesui had indeed outdone herself. Many of our neighbors nodded in admiration, and I made sure she got all the credit. As she had promised, she moved in with us, and set to work turning Paula and Mathilde into “good Mongol wives.” She thrived on the task, and I saw the sparkle come back in her eye. The three of them spent a lot of time laughing, I noticed. Oddly, it was not until some days later that I realized I finally had a home of my very own. Of course, it was a moving home, but it was indeed a home. Yesui did bring in her ongons and go through her rituals, but we were all respectful.
The big celebration at the Chavchuvat village in honor of my marriage was quite something. They brought out all of their special dishes. Most of these were repulsive in the extreme, but we sampled and raved about all much to their delight. Then, of course, we had to tell stories. Unfortunately for Paula, all was related in the Tungus tongue so they would understand it. I had to come up with a story, but was fully prepared and regaled them with one of Grandfather Peter’s more elaborate Hanjen fables about a dragon, which had been turned into the northern lights. Kaidu even rose to the occasion and recounted a great hunt from his youth where he was almost killed by a bear. The stories of the Chavchuvat were hard to follow and tedious in the extreme, but at last we took our leave. Kaidu asked if I had made a point to learn these stories. I had to admit I was merely cursed or blessed, depending on one’s point of view, with a good memory for tales and had a very large and as it happened, very handy repertory. He agreed that my memory was most fortuitous, and wondered if storytelling was the most prized “talent” here in the north. I assured him, that next to landing a whale, it was.
Paula was pleased that I was so popular among the natives although she hoped we wouldn’t be feted again anytime soon. The next morning, I was sent ahead to look for a camp while the Ordu followed in my “wake.” Oddly, the best places were along the bank of the large river we had just crossed. To the north of the river, all was marshy, impassible tundra. To the south back across the river, the land was higher, and probably more suited to us, but we would have to cross back to this side again anyway. Still, the ground was soft, and we were really tearing it up as we went.
I finally caught up with Givevneu after a few days. We kept missing each other with all my scouting duties and his shaman duties. He had met my Paula in my absence and congratulated me. He was also certain Padraig and Mathilde were good additions to the Ordu. He was concerned about Yesui, however. He could see that she was failing and was certain that she was only sustained by feeling needed by the two young women. He told me it was past her time, and I should not make her feel like an invalid or take any notice of her failing, but let her go on as she was. She would not last long into winter and was very happy being busy. He had already told Paula and Mathilde as well as Henry and Doqus and all had agreed. He was right, of course, and I made every effort to act like she was fine and joke with her whenever I saw her. It wasn’t easy—she was so pale and thin. But she was happy and dearly loved Paula and Mathilde, and they her.
We crept along the river for a few days, but finally I had to lead the Ordu north to another river. We had to cross it on pontoons, then slog across to another river, and follow it upstream until it was narrow enough that we could cross it on pontoons. All this took five days and by now the nights were getting quite cold and shallow lakes would freeze overnight and thaw during the day. This meant the ground was harder at first in the morning, but not for long. Still we did start to make better time and six days later reached much better footing on a small range of hills. We worked our way slowly northeastward along this range determined to stay there until the tundra was frozen solid. While the Ordu trudged along, I was able to scout ahead and find the An’kalym village on the large bay where I had stayed a while the year before. I was profusely welcomed and had to spend the night and tell stories. I told them my tribe was nearby and willing to trade before we passed on. They said they knew they were near and were glad they were moving slowly since it would be best if they not arrive at the village until the ground was frozen. I assured them that that was the plan, much to their relief. They also needed to be reassured that we had plenty of food and would be able to trade food for food, goods for goods.
The Ordu had only been in the hills a couple of days when the first snowstorm hit. It was a fairly gentle affair—not much wind and not much snow. But things soon changed. Before we left the hills some twenty days after entering them and approached the An’kalym village, all began to understand what winter in the northland meant. There still wasn’t much snow, but the brutal unrelenting icy wind soon froze all in its path. Even the large bay was apparently frozen over as we arrived at its shores. The horse “boots” worked well on some frozen lakes so it looked like all was well. The carts were fixed up for winter, their wheels replaced with the runners. Since our wheels were quite large, this left the carts quite low to the ground. Considering all the wind we would encounter that was probably best. The An’kalym recommended we not try to cross yet since our carts looked heavy. This gave us a chance to come up with a means of protecting our herds. We had greatly thinned out the goats and sheep by trading them for dried fish, but the remainder were too slow for the fast runs ahead of us. Using some of the pontoon boats mounted on runners like the carts and pulled by horses to haul the herds was the perfect solution. Padraig had thought of it, and it did much to get him accepted by the Ordu. Of course, cleaning out the boats at the end of each day was a memorable experience. The unhitched horses would have no trouble keeping up with the carts, even without wearing “boots.”
Finally, the ice was thick enough and we set off across the bay. By now there was noticeably less daylight and each day was shorter as we went along. I went ahead in the dogsled to each village where we would stop to make sure we were welcome and that the ice ahead was solid. We went on like this for twelve days before we were warned of an imminent storm and were guided to a narrow valley a little inland where we would be out of the wind. The storm was brutal. Protected though we were from the brunt of the storm, some of the wind would still probe around the hills to get at us. There was also some snow, but with all the wind it was hard to tell if it was fresh or merely recycled. We were besieged for four days before it let up. Then it took another day to dig through the drifts that had piled up at the mouth of our little valley. When we finally left, we had lost several horses and there was some sickness among the old and the young. Yesui did not seem to be sick, but she looked very weak. Givevneu was much in demand.
We returned to and thanked the village that had warned us, presenting them with the meat from the horses that died in the storm. They told us there would be no more storms for at least several days—enough for us to reach Givevneu’s village. Indeed, four days later we rounded the cape and entered the bay, reaching his village a little before dusk. I took him with me on the dogsled, but the rest of the Ordu was in sight, blackening the mouth of the bay as we pulled into the village. Most of the village was staring slack jawed at the coming Ordu when we arrived, but were eager to know what was chasing us thither. In the excitement, no one recognized Givevneu, but they quickly recognized me and called Naukum over.
“Has it changed?” I asked Givevneu while we waited.
“Not at all,” he shook his head. “But that is the way of the An’kalym.”
“They don’t recognize you,” I said the obvious.
“It has been a long time,” he shrugged. “But I recognize my brother.”
“Ah, the Raven has returned!” Naukum greeted me. “Is that your tribe coming upon us like a tidal wave? Is my brother among them? Is this your guide?”
He studied Givevneu for a moment. I could see a vague recognition in his eyes, but Naukum couldn’t quite place Givevneu. I decided to keep quiet, and Givevneu just smiled gently at his older brother.
“Blocknot!” he suddenly shouted. “It must be you.”
With that he grasped Givevneu warmly and sniffed him in their strange way and took him off to introduce him to the rest of the village. There was much sniffing back and forth, with comments about how strange he smelled, no doubt because he was hanging around with my bizarre tribe. They were so taken up with the return of their own that the Ordu finally arrived unremarked. I found a spot a little farther down the spit for the camp and returned to the village. Givevneu’s return was cause for a major celebration, and it was in full swing when I arrived at Naukum’s “cave.” I was invited to join, and it was some time before I could ask whether they had heard anything from Juchi.
Naukum told me that they had heard of him, but not from him. It seems Taukujaa had come back over in a boat again the past summer and Naukum had run into him at an An’kalym village in the north where both had gone to trade. Juchi had been ranging far and wide since late the past winter but had said he would be back at Taukujaa’s village by early winter. Taukujaa had also mentioned that Juchi’s stay in his village had not been without issue, at least potentially from the size of some of his consorts. To this Naukum added that Juchi had been no less potent during his stay with them and could claim three children born this past summer. He then chided me for not also leaving such tokens of “friendship” behind. I lamely explained that my wife would have been upset if I had, and received pitying looks from all the men except Givevneu. He seemed amused by my discomfiture.
I extricated myself as soon as possible and went back to report to Kaidu. He was much amused at Juchi’s potency and happy to hear he was still attending to his job. He thanked me for keeping him informed. The next day, we moved the Ordu up the bay to the old village site. We decided to stay there until Naukum thought we could make the crossing. Our proximity gave Givevneu a chance to visit at length and bring his wife and children to meet his relatives. I wandered around a bit to do some mapping and take Paula and my nephews for sled rides. Yesui found it necessary to rest most of the time, but would shoo anyone away who tried to fuss over or wait on her. She always insisted on fixing the evening meal although she was not used to cooking with the seal oil.
When Givevneu finally returned to the Ordu, I told him about Yesui, but he assured me there was nothing he could do for her. She was only suffering from old age and a hard life, and there were no remedies for either. He then chided me for lying to his people.
“You did not sleep with any of them because you found them unattractive not because of your wife,” he shook his head.
“I meant no offense,” I protested. “It is true I found the tattoos repulsive, but it wouldn’t matter if I had found them attractive. I will always be faithful to my wife.”
“Always is a long time,” he mused. “To my people such activity does not break faith, it strengthens friendships. It is fortunate that Juchi came along and behaved like a more normal man, or my people could have been insulted.”
“So”—I reddened—“you think taking a pledge seriously makes me less of a man than Juchi.”
“Ah.” He smiled. “You do have feelings. I was beginning to think that your training had removed them. But you misunderstand me. I only said that Juchi was more normal than you, not better. I would not presume to judge your relative merits, but only made an observation. You are something of a cold, dispassionate person, Raven, at least to the eye. Because you look so unusual, it is overlooked or regarded as racial trait. I think perhaps you are just reserved, much like your father and brother. Such a demeanor may prove useful to us in the future, just as Juchi’s ‘normality’ has been in this situation. If you wish to remain scrupulously faithful to your wife, act as though it is a clan custom or something along those lines, so it appears to be out of your control. That way no one can take offense.”
“Well”—I shrugged—“I suppose it is at that. At least my grandfathers both thought it was most beneficial to be faithful to one’s wife. Grandfather George said it was a small sacrifice to make to promote harmony and Grandfather Peter said it was required by his God.”
“How does your wife feel about all this?” he asked.
“She told me she only ever wanted me,” I answered.
“So be it then” —he shook his head—“a peculiar clan custom. My people could accept that. In any case, your marvelous talent for storytelling has swept any resentment aside. My village would be grateful if you would come tonight and favor them with one. I was unaware of this gift of yours until Kaidu told me about it after your performance at the Chavchuvat village. It is perhaps the single most respected talent in this land. It has helped that you are called ‘Raven.’ I, of course, did not explain the real source of the name.”
“Neither did Juchi.” I grinned. “But he probably bit through his tongue to restrain himself. I’ll come tonight, of course.”
I looked after him for a while after he left. I determined to be more sensitive to the feelings of the people we met but still remain faithful to Paula. I did feel bad that I had blamed her for my fidelity. From now on it would be a clan custom. It occurred to me that I should probably clear this idea with the other member of my “clan,” mybrotherHenry.
While we were at the campsite, some of the older Ordu members died. We could not really bury them because the ground was frozen, so we dug a hole in the ice and weighting them with stone buried them at sea. Yesui still hung on, but was growing weaker by the day. Finally just as we got ready to move on, she could no longer leave her bed. We carried her into the cart, and Mathilde and Paula took turns holding her hand, as we traveled. Doqus would rush up whenever we stopped to check on her. Unfortunately, I had to go ahead each day, but I’d see her each night and get her to take a little broth. She forbade us to fetch Givevneu, insisting that he needed to see to the young, the Ordu’s future, not the old, the Ordu’s past.
We had stayed at the campsite twenty days, before Naukum thought it was cold enough for us to move on. Fortunately he agreed to lead us again, but we prevailed on him to take a more leisurely pace, and I think we visited and traded with every An’kalym village in the area. My reputation had preceded me, and I had to tell stories every night as well. Fortunately, I kept remembering new ones and was able to embellish the shorter ones enough to use them as well. I also was able to draw on my experiences living among them for a while to make the stories more relevant to them. In this manner it took us ten days to reach Pyeyek. We decided to stay there about five days to rest up the horses, check out all the carts and harnesses, and fetch Taukujaa for the final dash across the frozen sea.