Spring is a time of renewal and rejoicing. Animals give birth, flowers and new leaves burst out everywhere and fish race up streams to spawn in an unstoppable frenzy. It is also a time of hardship. Those who survive the Mother's long sleep are often too weakened by winter's rigor to resist any new ordeal.
The winter had been hard on Lion Camp. Although we had laid in good stores of food and fuel, snow started early and fell heavier than usual. Then came the cold; hard, cracking cold that made the lodge groan and give off loud bangs in the night. I remember Fralie holding Bectie when she cried, awakened from a frightening dream by the strange sounds. We told her stories about the good spirits that beat an ice drum to frighten away evil. Little Crozec was not bothered by the noise, but he would wake up too and want to nurse.
It is still painful to think of... those nights of warm love, huddled together in warm furs. We listened to the eerie howls of a wolf pack that had no need to hunt because it feasted on animals trapped in crusted snowdrifts and frozen to death. Most of the time it didn't matter if we stayed awake half the night; there is always less to do in winter.
I had my trapline, of course. Crisavec shared the work with me. He was quite the hunter already by then; he had killed a young aurochs in the autumn, and Talut made it the occasion of a feast. The time that we spent together, just the two of us pitted against the cold of that long winter, deepened our relationship. Having a family is an awesome responsibility. I have more respect for my mother's mate than when he lived--one more thing to regret.
When the back of Winter was broken, we all looked forward to Mut's gift of new life. But before the flowers that my beloved mate longed for could show themselves, the damp winds carried an evil influence to our Camp. Many were ill; even Talut lay in bed with fever and a hard cough for some days. The children suffered most. My sweet Fralie worked day and night caring for the victims. She wept bitterly when Tronie's little one, barely six moons old, returned to the Mother. A day later, she lay helpless in our bed while Tronie nursed Crozec.
What I remember most of the days that followed is my own foolish, selfish fear, and then despair--anger, too, but mostly the agony of loss and the tearing of my heart by words said and unsaid, time wasted and forever lost. I don't know how long I sat with her hand in mine, trying to feel life in the dead fingers. How could I believe that one who laughed and loved and brought new life to our hearth would never smile again?
"Frebec, I understand how it is for you. But are you sure you want to go alone?"
I didn't look up. "Yes. Please... I'm not going to do anything stupid. Not on purpose, anyway."
"Danug would go with you."
"Talut, I appreciate your concern, but..." Oh, shit, I didn't mean to sound like that. I turned toward the big man whose voice, so gentle with sympathy, only made it harder for me either to stay or to go. "I'm sorry. I just want to be alone for a little while. And I don't want to take anyone away from the Camp when everyone's barely back on their feet."
"All right." Talut smiled sadly. "Go with the blessing of Mut. And come back soon."
"I will. Thank you for everything." My throat was too tight to say any more. I had already bade farewell to the boys and Bectie. Mut knows I didn't want to run out on them, but I was no good to them in this state. All I could hope was that I might pull myself together in solitude. Our mamut, Sharnev at that time, had given me some private cleansing rituals to perform. He said that would help--I hoped so. He also said that time heals grief.
Talut wrapped his arms around me, pack and all. I had to leave quickly after that embrace or I'd have stayed to weep like a child on his bosom.
I set out at a fast walk. My pace slowed when I was well out of sight of Lion Camp. Even with the extra food that Nezzie forced upon me, the pack on my back was much lighter than the load on my mind and heart.
For the first day I headed more or less southward, but then veered to the east. My avowed intention to visit Aurochs Camp had not been a lie; my mind was so numb that I simply had no real goal except to get away for a while. I didn't need to hunt very much, but I had plenty of light spears and a good throwing-stick with which to supplement my supply of dried meat. Green food was becoming plentiful.
I settled into a dull routine, walking, setting up camp, eating, sleeping, and walking again. One day I stumbled into a sheltered hollow where the ground was covered with fragrant violets. The scent struck me like a blow to the head. I fell to my knees, then completely lay down amid the sweet-scented blossoms and wept. Mut knows how long I lay there releasing my grief. It was nearly dark when I arose, but I had to move on a way. I could not camp in that sacred place, carpeted with Fralie's favorite spring flowers.
When the next day dawned, I felt different. Not happier, I think, but somehow lighter. I remained at that campsite all morning, thinking about the experience. The spiritual exercises that Sharnev had reccommended came to my mind, and I realized that I had completed one of them. Perhaps there was hope that I could bear to live again.