Next morning the sun rose into a clear blue mountain sky, deepening signs of autumn upon the land. Arul tightly snuggled into his woollen shawl and gazed towards the forested slopes of the mountains, a vast green canopy dotted here and there with trees in late season flower. Splashes of reds and yellows led his eye past the foothills to the high peaks, capped in blinding cloaks of white snow. He squinted at the long clouds billowing off the summits, stretching away into the sky like unravelling wool. Up there it was always snowbound.
Is it possible to climb that high?
‘Arul…halloo!’ Navira’s insistent voice brought out of his daydreaming with a start. She was his childhood friend, now a slender girl of fourteen. Her nose was small and sharp, her lips slightly downturned, indicating something of her quick temper. It was a bad idea to annoy Navira, as Keeran was often reminded.
Navira and Keeran were looking for Arul’s father to ask him if he had seen any lions close to the village. More dead cattle had been found that morning. Arul joined them, weaving through the village on the way to his house. They passed a collection of rundown huts, hollow-eyed children playing in the dust, lethargic and sickly. The poorest section of the village. Grimy hands thrust out, begging for food.
Arul faked a smile at them and turned to his friends. ‘I don’t have anything to give them,’ he whispered. ‘I’ve never seen kids looking this scrawny.’
‘And it isn’t even winter yet,’ said Navira, studying Arul with almond shaped eyes the colour of russet autumn leaves. ‘I heard the grain stores are almost empty,’ said Keeran as though it was a great secret. It wasn’t, although folks tried to ignore it. Villagers were good at pretending to be ignorant. Maybe that’s how they survived their harsh lives high in the mountains.
Arul nodded. ‘What do you expect? Farmers are staying indoors. Since spring, they’ve been big predators seen roaming the outskirts. The valley’s become dangerous.’
They reached the icy stream on the outskirts of the village. Arul began to hop across the line of flat stones someone had placed there generations ago. Midway, an almighty shove sent him sprawling into the icy water, his wounds stinging like hot needles. He bit his lip to stifle a scream, a school of silver fish scattering away from him like shattered glass.
Keeran stood on the bank laughing hard. Navira glared at him, slapping him on the arm. ‘You might have made his injury worse!’
Arul spluttered and spit water from his mouth. Shivering, he stood in the middle of the stream while his friends crossed. When Keeran passed by, he charged forward, sending the taller boy flying. They both crashed into the stream, spluttering and wheezing.
Navira and Jaya crossed and stood on the far side. Arul glanced at Jaya looking with puzzled tilt to his head. ‘He thinks we’re crazy!’ Arul yelled.
‘Not all of us. Just you and Keeran,’ said Navira flatly.
It took the boys some time to dry off in the morning sun. Arul’s bandages were a mess. ‘Better not let Inba see her bandages in that state,’ Navira warned him. ‘Dry off and I’ll fix it.’
It was rather enjoyable simply lying in the soft grass that lined the banks of the stream. The sound of gurgling water rushing past made for pleasant listening, although for Arul there was a feeling of unease about that sound. It reminded him of his nightmare about the sea.
‘Look Arul, I’m sorry that I pushed you. I forgot that you were injured,’ said Keeran. Before Arul could reply, Navira punched Keeran on the arm.
‘Stop that!’ Keeran whined.
‘Then stop acting like an idiot! You could have really hurt Arul,’ Navira growled. Grinning, Arul noticed that Keeran wisely declined to reply.
Under glorious autumn sunshine, they waited for their clothes to dry while Navira tidied up Arul’s dressing. The teens then wandered down a beaten dirt path between emerald fields of millet, the air smelling of tilled earth, crops, and woodsmoke from the village.
The path ended at the edge of an empty field. During the summer, cattle grazed here, but it was left to fallow during the colder months. Nestled on the far side stood Arul’s home, surrounded by neat stacks of firewood, a chicken pen, and a fenced enclosure with a single dairy cow. A lazy column of smoke rose from an opening in the hut’s roof.
‘Appa! Are you there?’ Arul shouted.
A nearby woodpecker stopped its rapping. No one answered the call, so the trio approached the hut and peered in. There was something on the hearth that smelt of milk and palm sugar. Delicious.
Arul’s eyes narrowed.
Appa hasn’t been gone for long. He took his spears.
‘He didn’t even string his bow. Look,’ said Keeran.
‘Is he out patrolling the forest…or hunting?’ Navira said, scanning the trees.
Arul shrugged. ‘I have no idea, but something feels off.’ He grabbed his own spear and walked to the rear of the hut, an uneasy feeling beginning to gnaw at him. He peered into the gloom where a narrow path plunged into the plantation of towering jackfruit trees. Navira and Keeran joined him and stood listening to the echoing calls of mountain birds deep in the plantation.
‘Halloo!’ Navira’s high pitched voice called out.
It was unlike Arul’s father to vanish in the middle of cooking a meal. A chill breeze stirred the tops of the jackfruit trees, causing a wave of rustling leaves to move through the canopy. Keeran shivered and stepped backwards.
Arul glanced sideways at Jaya. The wolf froze and stared into the distance, both ears swivelled forward. He was much quieter than the average village dog, but Arul could still tell if Jaya sensed trouble. Right now his tail was level and his head held high, meaning no danger. A good sign.
‘What’s that over there?’ Navira squeaked.
The boys craned their necks to where she was pointing and saw a figure moving in the shadows between the trees, as though hunting for something. Arul strained to see who it was.
‘Wait a minute!’ Keeran exclaimed. ‘That’s your Appa!’
Arul stared hard at the figure, who was now somewhat closer. It did look a lot like his father. They called out to him, waving furiously.
The figure in the trees paused and stared.
As he approached, Arul squinted at his face.
Appa.
Ori ran up to them and stood with his hand on Arul’s shoulder, a sheen of sweat covered his face. He needed a minute to catch his breath. Bits of shrubbery clung to his hair and clothes. ‘Something’s spooked them,’ he said between deep breaths. The only weapon he carried was his sheathed aruval.
Arul’s frowned. ‘Spooked what? Who?’
Appa’s used his spears fighting off something.
Ori unsheathed his aruval and began wiping blood off it. Arul stared at the blood. Keeran took a sharp breath and stepped back. Arul’s father nodded towards the jackfruit trees. ‘I was cooking when I heard roars in the plantation. They’ve come down off the mountains. At least two. Maybe more.’ He coughed and spit. ‘I speared one lion and killed it. Another came at me from behind. I fought him off with my aruval and injured him. He ran off.’
‘You mean sabre-tooth lions?’ Navira said, her eyes round with fear. Arul’s father sat down on the ground to recover, the teens huddling close to hear more of his story. Keeran kept stealing nervous glances into the plantation, gradually shifting so that he ended up behind Arul.
‘Usually, the largest animals I see out there are small black bears…but today…’ His voice faltered. ‘These lions were huge.’
Jaya pointed his ears towards the plantation, eyes alert. Arul wondered what his wolf could hear.
Probably quite a bit more than me.
They waited for Ori to continue, staring towards the mountains. ‘This morning, Viyan and a group of villagers told me that one of their cows was killed last night. It showed all the signs of a slashing, sabre-tooth attack.’ Ori took a deep breath. ‘I’ve only ever seen a sabre-tooth kill years ago in one of the high passes. They never come down this far.’
‘They prefer the mountains and caves, don’t they?’ Arul said. The four of them sat in silence for some minutes, imagining various reasons why the fearsome lions would roam so close to the village. ‘We should protect our house with brushwood and sharpened stakes,’ Arul said in a quiet voice. ‘I’ll start today.’
His Appa nodded with a hint of a smile. ‘Practical. I like that. I’ll help you, Son.’ He rose to his feet and dusted off his clothes. ‘I need to speak to the village council tonight. We have to find out what’s happening up there…whatever it is. If we don’t, this village is in deep trouble.’
The teens eyes found each other. Their boring village life was about to take a turn. Not a turn for the worse, they hoped.
It wasn’t until late that night when the village council gathered in the large pañcāyattu hall at the centre of the village. Like all villages, the Kattu Pañcāyattu governed Sailem. A group of the most respected elders in the village. By the time the lamps of the hall were lit, a half-moon rose in the night sky like a paper model, sharp and clear in every detail. The aroma of spiced vegetables drifted from cooking pots as dinners were prepared to the sounds of crying babies and shouting children. A few villagers came out to see what was happening at the pañcāyattu hall, but most stayed inside their homes. A meeting of the pañcāyattu was a private affair unless invited.
That was the law.
Teens were absolutely not invited, but Arul snuck out anyway. He crept closer to the hall, keeping to the shadows and crouching low, looking for a certain gap in the wall. He found it soon enough, the light from inside the hall shining through like a glowing eye. He silently put his face to it, ears straining to pick up the conversation inside.
Ori sat on the floor with the council and spoke to them in a low voice. A welcoming fire crackled on a large stone platform, sending a column of glittering sparks up through a hole in the roof.
The council was composed of older villagers. All men, except for Inba the healer. She sat unmoving, wrapped in a drab shawl, a look of impatience pinching her lined face. The men wore fine robes, at least by village standards, gold jewellery shone from their arms and necks.
Arul pricked up his ears when he heard his father speak. ‘No, it’s not just random chance that so many sabre-tooth lions are roaming the lower reaches. My son and I killed one last week in the Ancient Forest, and I speared another on the outskirts of the village today.’
A very thin dark man called Kapilan shook his head energetically. ‘We in the council have not actually seen any of these lions. You’re making all of this up for your own profit. Perhaps to try and become chief warden of the whole province!’
Arul had never liked Kapilan, although he had to show respect to the elder when talking to him. The man endlessly argued with everyone as though he genuinely enjoyed upsetting people. Kapilan’s devious eyes glittered as he continued his verbal assault. ‘So if you invent these supposed attacks with your son’s help, you can pretend to solve it and come out a big hero in the eyes of the village. Once the Provincial Governor hears about it, he’ll promote you!’ Kapilan clapped his hands and cackled, no doubt thinking himself extremely clever for working it all out.
Arul ground his teeth in anger. He saw his Appa abruptly stand up in disgust and step towards Kapilan. Pari, Arul’s teacher and a council elder, quickly rose and spoke soothing words to Ori. Arul’s father sat down, glaring at Kapilan.
Pari was Arul’s Guru, who after a long absence had come back to live in Sailem at the time of Arul’s birth. Guru Pari had a noble face framed by long white hair. Although his face was lined with age, he somehow looked young. He carried a permanent expression of amusement, as though he knew something so funny he might burst out laughing at any moment. His robes were simple white cotton, but nothing about his eyes indicated a simple mind.
His eyes saw everything.
Guru Pari turned and spoke to the council. ‘We need to organise a scouting party to go up past the plantation and the Ancient Forest. In the Brown Hills, we may find answers. That is the only sensible course of action, isn’t it? Then we can work out a strategy to deal with whatever we find.’
Arul’s father sat up straight. ‘We need to build brush and thorn barriers all along the plantation edge to keep them out. Sharpened stakes too.’ Outside, Arul glowed with pride at his proposal being mentioned.
Appa actually listened to my suggestion!
The council of elders murmured amongst themselves awhile. Sailem’s headman, Viyan nodded. Decisions were reached by voting, although Viyan had more influence than the other elders.
Viyan rubbed his broad nose vigorously. ‘We’ll start building these barriers on the morrow. As for these animal attacks. I will lead the scouting expedition with Ori our forest warden and three other experienced villagers.’ He paused to let his words sink in. ‘The series of attacks along our borders have not only killed many of our milking cows, but people are scared to harvest their crops. Our grain stores won’t last the coming winter.’
The elders looked shocked, their eyes wide in the firelight.
Ori nodded respectfully. ‘You have spoken wisely. Already I know of many children who have fallen ill due to a lack of food.’ Kapilan snorted, but Arul’s father continued. ‘We could leave tomorrow at dawn. He scratched his chin stubble and added, ‘Hmm…yes…may I bring my son Arul to assist me? I’ve trained him myself, and he’s quite skilled.’
Kapilan laughed dismissively, waving his bony hands about. The other elders quieted him with stern looks and went back to discussing the arrangements. Viyan obviously trusted Arul’s father and agreed to allow Arul to accompany them.
The elders rose and parted in the traditional manner, with palms held together as though praying. The fire had burned down, and flickering shadows danced about the pañcāyattu hall like wandering spirits. Arul shivered, a feeling of unease clouding his mind.
When the rest of the elders departed, Viyan called to Ori and conversed with him in such soft tones, that Arul couldn’t hear. They said their goodbyes and Ori was about to step through the door when Pari grabbed his arm. ‘You need to tell the boy everything. And soon.’ Arul froze and put his ear hard against the outside wall. ‘He’s having bad dreams, isn’t he?’ Guru Pari said.
Arul’s Appa spoke tersely. ‘How did you know that?’
‘Don’t take me for a fool, Ori. The boy carries the stone of a Navigator, like his mother before him. He must be told about her! You can’t keep him isolated in this village forever.’
‘Of course not, Guru Pari. I meant no disrespect. I’ll find the right moment to tell him.’
Pari leaned forward, his eyes dark as a storm. ‘I’ll be watching him, Ori. I always have. His amulet holds powers you can’t even imagine. He must learn how to control it.’
Ori rubbed his scalp, his voice nervous. ‘Yes of course, Guru. You helped me all those years ago, and I haven’t forgotten. I…we’re always in your debt.’
Arul decided that it was a good time to make himself scarce and began backing away. He called softly to Jaya, the wolf appearing from the shadows like a black ghost. Arul was slinking between two huts when a hand shot out from the dark and grabbed him. He jumped, stifling a scream with his hand.
‘I trust you heard all of that, although you were not invited?’ His Appa said in a stern voice. Arul stammered, unable to conjure up a believable excuse for eavesdropping. Ori interrupted. ‘It’s good you overheard us actually. Shows me you have some interest, unlike Keeran and Navira who are no doubt fast asleep.’
This change in tone took Arul by surprise. He turned away to hide his face and beamed. His Appa’s praise meant a lot to him, and it didn’t come very often. His father’s sharp gaze fixed him. ‘Did you overhear your Guru and I talking?’
Arul lied. ‘No! No! I was already on my way home straight after the headman talked to you.’ Jaya looked at him accusingly and yawned.
They left the pañcāyattu hall and followed the dirt path out of the village towards the stream, Ori pausing to look at the moonlight shimmering off the water. As Arul stood next to him, his father put an arm on his shoulder. ‘I remember when I showed your Amma this stream on a night just like this.’
Arul stiffened. His Appa almost never mentioned his Amma. By now Ori had his face turned, his shoulders slumped as though pressed by a great sadness. He walked off without another word.
Arul crossed the water and stopped at a tiny shrine to light a lamp and perform a puja to the village deity. While not one of the major gods such as Shiva or Vishnu, each village had its own protector deity. A small fire of juniper wood filled the air with its pungent aroma as Arul added a handful of sticks. He continued home past the vegetable gardens, accompanied by the buzzing sound of cicadas lurking in the grass. Arul breathed in the damp grass as he crossed the field, an expression of contentment on his face.
His Appa was waiting for him on the field. ‘Sorry I walked off. I…’ He fell silent.
‘It’s fine, Appa. I know it’s hard to talk of her.’ Ori nodded with a pained smile.
Behind them, Jaya began to growl.
Arul and his father spun around. Then all at once with a great commotion, flocks of birds rose into the air along the tree line. Something’s woken them!’ Arul yelled.
‘Indeed,’ His Appa said. ‘But what’s scared them?’
A tremor begin to shake the ground, gentle at first, then building in intensity. Trees shivered and villagers began shouted in the distance. Arul staggered as the ground heaved, jets of liquid mud spewing from the surrounding field.
Then the earthquake stopped without warning, the cries of panicked birds filling the moonlit sky. In the village, neighbours called out to each other over the sound of weeping children. ‘That’s the third earthquake this month!’ Arul shouted over the noise.
‘I know. That’s not normal, is it?’ His Appa glanced at the ground as if hoping to glean answers from it. He grabbed Arul’s hand and they hurried back to the village.
They and the village elders moved from house to house calming folk, most of whom swore that the village was under a curse. Village huts were made of timber and rope, able to flex in an earthquake. But many now sagged dangerously. People had been injured. They helped where they could, though as the hours passed, Arul’s exhaustion grew. ‘I think we’ve done everything we can tonight,’’ Arul’s Appa said as he tore off a strip of muslin cloth and tied it around the injured arm of Sunai, a middle-aged widow. ‘Let’s go home, Son.’
They returned home exhausted, Arul collapsing into bed fully dressed. When his father finally blew out the diya, the flame spluttered and hissed before blinking out, silvery moonlight leaping through the open doorway, cold and beautiful.
Arul turned on his bed, making it creak in protest. His heart raced as he dreamt of exploring the high country beyond the forest. He thought he heard the distant roar of a tiger before he swiftly fell into a dreamless sleep.
Outside the hut, Jaya sat like a black shadow, his eyes reflecting the moonlight like pools of liquid ivory. He raised his head and let out a low mournful howl. In answer, the howling of wild wolves echoed through the mountains behind Sailem, hulking black silhouettes under a moonlit sky.