Then, even if they didn’t recognise where they were, they could rest up, fix the boat, and shore-hop east until they reached home.
Instead Kirike had insisted they sail north. ‘We went over it and over it,’ he said now. ‘I just had this feeling we were closer to land to the north than the south.’
‘Pig scut.’
‘I thought I saw a gull flying that way.’
‘Pig scut! There was no gull, except maybe in your head. But I let you talk me into it.’
‘We found land, didn’t we?’
So they had, a cold shore littered with strange black rocks, where the ice had almost come down to the sea. There had been no people there. No wood either, no trees growing, though they found some driftwood on the strand. But there were seals who had evidently never seen people, for each of them was trusting and friendly right up until the moment the club, delivered with respect, hit the back of its head. They had rested up in a shelter built of snow blocks, ate the seals’ flesh, fixed the boat as best they could with sealskin and caulked it with the animals’ fat, and then paddled off.
And they headed west, not east.
‘The current ran that way.’
‘Some of the time.’
‘We might have found land. People to trade with.’
‘We found ice! We slept on floating ice, and fished through holes in the ice. My piss turned to ice.’
‘Nobody ever went so far west before! We were strong, we were healthy. Who could have known what we’d find?’
‘All we found was ice . . .’
Over weeks of westward sailing, they had hopped from ice floe to ice floe across the roof of the world. Then the land curved south, and they had passed the mouth of a wide and deep river estuary, ice-bound in the winter. At last they had settled on this shore with the big clams.
Kirike said, ‘Maybe this is Albia, but if it is it’s like no bit of Albia I ever heard of, even from the traders. If they had clams like these we’d have known about it.’
‘We’re nowhere,’ Heni said. ‘A land with no name on the arse of the world. Where the funny-looking people don’t speak a shred even of the traders’ tongue. Well, we have to go home some time. If we can make it back. And what about Zesi? What about Ana? Your daughters don’t know if you’re dead or alive - or me, come to that.’
Kirike blurted, ‘Every time I see them I will think of Sabet.’
Heni nodded gravely. ‘Yes. That is true. But do you think your daughters won’t be missing their mother too?’
‘Sun and moon, it’s like talking to a priest.’
‘So are we going home?’
‘All right! Tonight we’ll turn the boat over. In the morning, as soon as it’s stocked, if it’s not actually storming—’
‘Well, about time.’
‘So what did you get from the Hairy Folk? Apart from a tit-grab from your bearded lover.’
Heni opened up his pack, to reveal bone and polished stone. ‘I traded our last bits of obsidian for this stuff.’ He pulled out a fine slate knife. ‘Look at the edge on that.’
Kirike picked up an awl made from what felt like a tooth. ‘I wonder what animal this came from.’
‘They told me. We don’t have a name for it. Like a big fat seal, with long teeth that stick down.’ He mimed with two pointing fingers. ‘And look at this harpoon. See the toggle? Look, you pass a rope through here, it runs out when you throw the spear, and then you can just pull the weapon back.’
Kirike rummaged through the gifts. ‘But no food. No dried meat, none of those acorn biscuits they make—’
‘Who needs food? Kirike, it’s spring, we’ll be sitting on an ocean full of fish.’ The tooth harpoon was on a loop of cord; he slipped it around his neck. ‘Imagine the show we’ll make when we paddle into Etxelur with this lot!’
But Kirike, looking over Heni’s shoulder, was distracted. To the north, beyond the sandstone bluff that stuck out to sea at the end of this bay, a thread of smoke rose. He stood up. ‘Fire.’
‘What?’ Heni turned to
Instead Kirike had insisted they sail north. ‘We went over it and over it,’ he said now. ‘I just had this feeling we were closer to land to the north than the south.’
‘Pig scut.’
‘I thought I saw a gull flying that way.’
‘Pig scut! There was no gull, except maybe in your head. But I let you talk me into it.’
‘We found land, didn’t we?’
So they had, a cold shore littered with strange black rocks, where the ice had almost come down to the sea. There had been no people there. No wood either, no trees growing, though they found some driftwood on the strand. But there were seals who had evidently never seen people, for each of them was trusting and friendly right up until the moment the club, delivered with respect, hit the back of its head. They had rested up in a shelter built of snow blocks, ate the seals’ flesh, fixed the boat as best they could with sealskin and caulked it with the animals’ fat, and then paddled off.
And they headed west, not east.
‘The current ran that way.’
‘Some of the time.’
‘We might have found land. People to trade with.’
‘We found ice! We slept on floating ice, and fished through holes in the ice. My piss turned to ice.’
‘Nobody ever went so far west before! We were strong, we were healthy. Who could have known what we’d find?’
‘All we found was ice . . .’
Over weeks of westward sailing, they had hopped from ice floe to ice floe across the roof of the world. Then the land curved south, and they had passed the mouth of a wide and deep river estuary, ice-bound in the winter. At last they had settled on this shore with the big clams.
Kirike said, ‘Maybe this is Albia, but if it is it’s like no bit of Albia I ever heard of, even from the traders. If they had clams like these we’d have known about it.’
‘We’re nowhere,’ Heni said. ‘A land with no name on the arse of the world. Where the funny-looking people don’t speak a shred even of the traders’ tongue. Well, we have to go home some time. If we can make it back. And what about Zesi? What about Ana? Your daughters don’t know if you’re dead or alive - or me, come to that.’
Kirike blurted, ‘Every time I see them I will think of Sabet.’
Heni nodded gravely. ‘Yes. That is true. But do you think your daughters won’t be missing their mother too?’
‘Sun and moon, it’s like talking to a priest.’
‘So are we going home?’
‘All right! Tonight we’ll turn the boat over. In the morning, as soon as it’s stocked, if it’s not actually storming—’
‘Well, about time.’
‘So what did you get from the Hairy Folk? Apart from a tit-grab from your bearded lover.’
Heni opened up his pack, to reveal bone and polished stone. ‘I traded our last bits of obsidian for this stuff.’ He pulled out a fine slate knife. ‘Look at the edge on that.’
Kirike picked up an awl made from what felt like a tooth. ‘I wonder what animal this came from.’
‘They told me. We don’t have a name for it. Like a big fat seal, with long teeth that stick down.’ He mimed with two pointing fingers. ‘And look at this harpoon. See the toggle? Look, you pass a rope through here, it runs out when you throw the spear, and then you can just pull the weapon back.’
Kirike rummaged through the gifts. ‘But no food. No dried meat, none of those acorn biscuits they make—’
‘Who needs food? Kirike, it’s spring, we’ll be sitting on an ocean full of fish.’ The tooth harpoon was on a loop of cord; he slipped it around his neck. ‘Imagine the show we’ll make when we paddle into Etxelur with this lot!’
But Kirike, looking over Heni’s shoulder, was distracted. To the north, beyond the sandstone bluff that stuck out to sea at the end of this bay, a thread of smoke rose. He stood up. ‘Fire.’
‘What?’ Heni turned to
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