Herilak admired the luxury of the surroundings as well. The clay pots holding water and food, the woven mats and soft cloth. Kerrick took a finely carved wooden box from a ledge and held it out to him.
“Another secret that the Sasku have is here. Let me show you. With this you no longer need to drill wood or carry fire with you.”
Herilak looked on in wonder as Kerrick took a lump of dark rock from the box, then another polished stone with grooves scratched in its surface. He next took up a pinch of powdered wood. With a quick motion he struck one stone with the other — and a spark flew into the wood. He had only then to blow on it and it burst into flame. Herilak took the two lumps of rock in his hand and wondered at them.
“There is fire captured in this rock,” he said, “and the other stone releases it. The Sasku do indeed have strange and powerful secrets.”
Kerrick carefully put the box away. Herilak went to the ledge outside and marveled at all the activity below, and when Kerrick joined him he pointed and asked Kerrick to tell him about it. Herilak listened closely as he explained the spinning and weaving, then showed him where the smoking oven was, the oven where the pots were fired.
“And there, on those racks, those red spots are the chilies that brought tears to your eyes. They are dried then crushed. Inside the bins are the sweet roots, different kinds of squash as well. They are good when baked, and even the seeds are ground into flour. There is always food here, no one is ever hungry.”
Herilak saw his enthusiasm and happiness. “Will you remain here?” he asked.
Kerrick shrugged. “That I do not know yet. It is familiar to me, living in a place like this, for I lived for many years in the city of the Yilanè. There is no hunger and the winters are warm.”
“Your son will dig in the ground like a woman instead of following the deer.”
“He doesn’t have to. The Sasku hunt deer, with their spear-throwers they do it very well.”
Herilak said nothing more about this, but his feelings were clear in the way he held his head when he looked about him. This was all very interesting, good enough for those born here, but in no way comparable to the life of a hunter. Kerrick did not want to argue with him. He looked from Herilak to the Sasku digging in the fields and could understand them both — even as he had understood the Yilanè. Not for the first time did he feel suspended in life, neither hunter nor tiller of fields, Ter or marag. They went inside then and his eyes went to Armun holding their son and knew that he had a base now, a sammad of his own no matter how small. Armun saw this look in his face and smiled at him and he smiled back. One of the women came from the cave mouth and whispered to him.
“A mandukto is here and would talk to you.”
The mandukto stood on the ledge, wide-eyed and trembling. “It has been as Sanone said. The mastodon is born — as is your son. Sanone asks to talk with you.”
“Go to him. Say that I come with Herilak.” He turned back to the big hunter. “We will see what Sanone wants. Then we will talk to the manduktos, find out if there really is a way across the desert to the west.”
Kerrick knew where to find Sanone at this time of day, for the afternoon sun was slanting across the valley, shining into the cavern at the base of the cliff to illuminate the paintings on the rock wall there. Like Fraken, Sanone knew many things and could recite them from the rise of the sun in the morning to the darkness at night. But Sanone shared his knowledge with the other manduktos, the young ones in particular. He would chant and they would repeat what he said and learn his words. Kerrick was permitted to listen, and recognized the honor in this for only other manduktos were normally permitted to hear what was being said.
When they came close Kerrick saw that Sanone was sitting cross-legged before the great mastodon painting, looking up at it, while three of the younger manduktos sat before him, listening intently.
“We will wait here until he is done,” Kerrick said. “He is telling the others about Kadair.”
“What is that?”
“Not what, who. They do not talk of Ermanpadar here, they do not know how he shaped the Tanu from the mud of the river. They speak instead of Kadair, who in the guise of a mastodon walked the earth alone. He was so lonely that he stamped his feet on the black rock so hard that it cracked open and the first Sasku came out.”
“They believe this?”
“Yes, very strongly. It is very meaningful to them. They know of many other things, spirits in the rocks and the water, but all of these were made by Kadair. Everything.”
“Now I see why they welcomed us here, gave us food. We brought them the mastodons. Do they have any of their own?”
“No. They just know of them from the paintings. They believe we brought them the mastodons for an important reason. Now that the calf has been born they may know the reason. I do not understand everything about it, but it is of great importance. The young ones are leaving, we can talk to Sanone now.”
Sanone came forward to greet them, smiling with pleasure.
“The mastodon calf is born, did you know that? And I have just been informed that your child has been born as well. This is a matter of great import.” He hesitated. “Has your son been named yet?”
“Yes. He is called Arnwheet which means the hawk in our language.”
Sanone hesitated, then lowered his head as he spoke.
“There is a reason for these births on the same day, just as there is a reason for everything that happens in this world. You led the mastodon here, and that was for a reason. Your son was born the same day as the calf, and that was for a reason. You have named him Arnwheet and you know well the reason for that. This is our request. We wish that your son’s name be given the calf as well. This is of great importance to us. Do you think that the sammadar will permit this to be done?”
Kerrick did not smile at this strange request, for he knew how seriously Sanone and the others took their beliefs. “It will be arranged. I am sure that the sammadar will agree to this.”
“We will send more gifts to please the sammadar and to convince him to agree to this request.”
“He will agree. Now I have a request in return. This is Herilak who is the leader in battle of the waliskis people.”
“Tell him that we welcome him here, for his victories in battle brought the waliskis to us. His arrival has been known to us. The manduktos will gather and we will drink the porro that has been made for this occasion.”
Herilak was puzzled when Kerrick told him what was happening. “They knew that I was coming? How can that be?”
“I don’t know how they do it, but I do know they can see the future far better than old Fraken can with his owl vomitings. There are many things I still do not understand about them.”
The manduktos gathered in silence, bringing the large covered pots with them. They were finely made and each had a black mastodon baked into its surface. The drinking cups were also decorated in the same manner. Sanone himself dipped each cup into the frothy brown liquid, handing the first one he filled to Herilak. Kerrick sipped at his and found the porro bitter but strangely satisfying. He gulped the contents down, just as the others did, and the cup was refilled.
Very quickly a strange dizziness went through his head, which began to feel very light. He could tell by Herilak’s expression that he was feeling this as well.
“This is the water of Kadair,” Sanone intoned. “Kadair comes to us through this and shows he is watching and listening.”
Kerrick was beginning to realize that Kadair was more powerful than he had suspected.
“Kadair guided the waliskis people here, that is known. When the calf was born the child of Kerrick was also born so that Kerrick could give them the name. Now the leader of the waliskis people comes to us for guidance for he seeks a way across the desert to the west.”