“It is that way. Many days walking. It is there. The Place with No Name.”
“You have been there?”
“Only a Ravn may visit this place. The Old Ravn showed me when I was young.”
“Then you will show me since I am Ravn Above Ravn. We will go when the sun rises.”
“It is forbidden …”
“It is forbidden to refuse me anything.” He reached out to the cringing man and closed his hands about the scrawny throat. “Will you die now?” Brion forced hatred into his voice. The threat had to be reaclass="underline" only by deadly fear could he control the Ravn. When there was no answer he began to close his fingers with steadily increasing pressure.
Ravn gasped out the reluctant words. “We go … when the sun rises.”
It was enough. Brion released him and returned to Lea’s side without another word. She was still deeply asleep, snoring lightly, and he tried to emulate her example. But he was too aware of the emotional flow of the people around him, their spurts of sharp emotion during dreaming. And the fear and hatred hovering just below the surface at all times. In the end he realized that sleep was going to be impossible. He lay back and looked up at the stars, letting his sense of awareness reach out on all sides.
Lea woke soon after dawn. He gave her some water, then he told her what he had discovered. She nodded in agreement.
“There has to be something in it. The way the women talked, this place seemed to be very real to them, not just another historical myth.”
“We will just have to go there and see for ourselves. There has to be something out there. Ravn was certainly reluctant enough about leading me there. He took a lot of convincing. He was afraid of this place of the machines as he was of me.”
“Do you think he was afraid enough to run away? I don’t see him anywhere.”
Lea was right; Ravn had vanished during the night. When Brion woke the Hunters they seemed to be as puzzled about his disappearance as he was. They searched fitfully, some of them even scouting down the trails leading from the encampment. But in the end they all returned with negative reports. Ravn had vanished without trace.
“Damn!” Brion said. “We’ll never find this place without him. I should have tied him down he could be miles away by now.”
“I don’t think so,” Lea said. “In fact I have the very strong sensation that he is a lot closer than you imagine.” She looked very smug as she stirred the caffeine extract into her cup of water, then sipped it as it began to steam.
“Would you be so kind as to tell me just what in hell you are talking about!”
“Temper, temper. Shouting will only raise your blood pressure and get you nowhere.” She sipped daintily while he fumed with impatience. “Now that’s better. While you men have been stamping around everywhere I have been watching the women. They are very afraid of something and they are staying inside the cave, every last one of them.”
“Could he be hiding in there? Isn’t it taboo for men to go inside with the women?”
“Men, yes. The Ravn no. He even has a cache of some kind in the rear. Want me to take a look?”
“No, that’s too dangerous. My new title should get me inside as well.”
The Hunters watched with mild interest as he strode towards the cave entrance but the women retreated in panic. “I am Ravn Above Ravn!” he shouted as he bent his head to get under the overhanging ledge.
Brion blinked in the semi-darkness inside, waiting while his eyes slowly grew accustomed to it. The cave was really just a fault in the rocks, about sixty feet deep. There were cries of fear and sobbing from the women who were now all huddled together, with the children, to the back of the cave. They wailed and moved aside as he approached them. Without exception they all of them retreated to his left. Interesting. Brion went to the right, towards a stinking heap of uncured lizard skins piled high in a niche. Skins, nothing else. Or had he seen a slight movement in the darkness. He knelt and groped under the fetid mass then shouted with delight.
Ravn wailed and slobbered as he was pulled out by the ankle, dragged clear of the skins and rolled over on the ground. Brion looked down at him, feeling a slight pity for the grovelling man. But only for an instant, as he became aware of a throb of pain in his hand, where he had knocked the healing stump of his index finger against the rock floor of the cave. All trace of sympathy vanished with this and he nudged Ravn with his toe.
“Stand up, cowardly piece of filth. We start the long walk today.”
Most of the morning had passed before Ravn declared himself ready to leave. There were rituals to be done, a bracelet of bones to be fetched from its hiding place in the cave, food had to be gathered. Urged on by Brion he eventually ran out of excuses and reluctantly started down the path only to stop suddenly when he saw that Lea was following them. He waved his hands with agitation.
“No women! Women not allowed. Only Ravn can go. No hunters, no dirt women!”
“This woman comes with us only part of the way so she can carry our food for us. She will not go to the Place With No Name. She will be sent back long before that. Now lead the way.”
Dragging his feet and proceeding with the greatest reluctance, Ravn started down the hillside again. Brion and Lea followed behind him on the path through the trees, until they were well out of sight of the encampment. Brion stopped then and took the heavy bundle from Lea, slinging it across his own back. She rubbed her sore muscles. “Only dirt woman carry bundle. How come big Hunter carry big bundle? This very bad for taboo.”
“Do you want it back?” _
“Never! But won’t dirty old Ravn protest and make trouble?”
“He couldn’t hate me any more than he does now. And I can take care of any trouble he can possibly dream up. Every time I feel sorry for him my finger stump twinges and I suddenly lose all sympathy. Let me know when you get tired and we’ll take a break.”
“I can walk all day as long as someone else is carrying the pack.”
Their course first took them to the west, along the edge of the plain. By afternoon the foothills began to curve north along the shore of the Central Lake and they followed this natural direction of the land.
Brion called a halt before dusk, tired by a full day of walking after a sleepless night. As he had done before, he staked Ravn down so he wouldn’t go wandering when they weren’t watching. With the enemy well secured Brion enjoyed a deep and dreamless sleep, waking in the morning well refreshed for the trek.
They proceeded like this for three days, walking through the sparse cover of the foothills with the forest nearby. They only ventured out after dusk to fill their water bottles, if they had not crossed any streams during the day. Ravn only spoke once, shouting a warning when he heard the distant sound of engines. They lay hidden in the undergrowth watching the contrails of invisible aircraft above. The planes drew white lines across the horizon, coming from the north. If this was any indication, the march was certainly going in the right direction. Ravn was terrified of the aircraft, lying shuddering on the ground.
“We are close, too close,” he insisted. “We must go back.” Only with effort did Brion force him to go on. Nor did he go far. Less than an hour later he stopped and sat down under a tree.
“Now what?” Brion asked.
“We must wait until dark and then go down to the lake and pass this place by.” He waved to the ridge ahead.
“We go on now,” Brion ordered. “There is a lot of daylight left.”
“We cannot. Up ahead is a Holy Place. We cannot go there. We must pass it by. Only at night is it safe to go along the lake.”
“A Holy Place? I like the sound of that. We’ll take a look …”
“No! It is forbidden! You cannot!”
Brion was aware of the surge of emotion that seized Ravn, a fear greater than anything he had experienced before greater even than his fear of Brion. He screeched as he attacked, knife raised. Brion stepped inside the swinging arm, blocking the downward swing with his own arm, and caught Ravn’s wrist. He seized his neck with his other hand, squeezing hard until the writhing body went limp.