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Authors: Peter Dickinson

BOOK: The Kin
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Oldtale

TOV AND FALU

Tov came to Stonejaw. The parrot was with him. The rock still held the mouth of Stonejaw, so that it could not close. Tov went into the mouth and found water. He drank and filled his gourd, and left the cave. Beside Stonejaw he camped and ate meat from the gazelle. Night came
.

Tov said, “Now I sleep, little parrot. Keep watch.”

He lay down and slept
.

It was dark, and the parrot was Falu again. Now she sang with her own voice. These were the words of her song:

Parrot, First One
,

I am your nestling
.

You brood over me
,

You bring me sweet fruits
.

It is day, I am a parrot
.

It is night, I am a child
.

Let me be these no more
.

Make me a woman
.

Then Falu went into the cave, into the mouth of Stonejaw. She washed the yellow feathers from her buttocks, and the grey dust from her body, and made herself clean. When she left the cave she was a woman
.

Tov slept. All night Falu watched over him
.

In the morning Tov woke and saw Falu. He did not know her
.

He said, “Now, woman, I see you. Tell me your name.”

She said, “I am Falu, daughter of Dat. I was a child. She is gone. I was a parrot, a little grey parrot with yellow tail feathers. It is gone. I am here. Tov, I choose you for my mate. Do you choose me?”

Tov said in his heart, Gata is more beautiful, but Falu is clever, clever. She is brave. She helps me. He said, “Falu, I choose you for my mate. Now we smear salt on our brows.”

Falu said, “No, Tov, we wait. My father Dat has my promise. He chooses for me. Now we go to him. You give him your gift, the tooth of Fododo, Father of snakes, the poison tooth. You say to him, Give me Falu for my mate.”

Tov said, “I do this. It is good.”

Tov and Falu journeyed together. The sun was in their faces. They were happy, happy
.

CHAPTER NINE

The marshmen came steadily up the hill. Their whole bodies, not just their faces and hands, were blobbed and streaked with demon colours.

The Kin men massed to face them. A low growl rose from their throats, and their hair began to bush out.

The marshmen's hair bushed in answer. They didn't growl, but made a weird, high yapping sound that was just as frightening.

Halfway between the two parties Ko watched, appalled. The marshmen were going to pass only a few paces from him, but they weren't looking at him. He mightn't have been there at all.

Without warning Net yelled and charged down the hill. Tun shouted at him to stop, but Net charged on. The marshmen halted. Their throwing arms went back.

Ko had seen what those fishing sticks could do, how sharp they were, how far the marshmen could throw them. Without thought he dashed forward, shouting a warning.

“Danger! Sticks are sharp, Net, sharp!”

He stood in Net's path, shouting and waving his arms. Crazy. How could a child stop a grown man in a fighting rage, the rage of a hero? Net charged straight through him.

Ko was slammed aside and flung sprawling down the slope. The breath whooshed out of him. He lay stunned, bruised, croaking for air. His head seemed full of a strange whooping sound.

As he struggled to his feet he realized that the sound was coming from outside him. Dazedly he looked around. Net was lying face down on the slope just below him. Dead? No. He was trying to get up, but croaking and gasping, even worse winded than Ko had been. Just beyond him stood the marshmen. They had lowered their sticks, and their hair was no longer bushed. With their free hands they were pointing at Net and whooping with laughter. Tears streamed down their bright-coloured faces. Some were stamping their feet, and others were almost doubled up. They were helpless. If the Kin men had attacked now they couldn't have fought back.

Bewildered, Ko turned. The Kin men had lowered their digging sticks and their hair too was starting to lie down. Kern was smiling and shaking his head. Ko saw Tun speak to Var and beckon to Tor, and then walk calmly down the slope with Tor beside him. Bruised and scraped and still totally bewildered, Ko helped Net to his feet and fetched his digging stick for him. Net didn't seem to want to fight anyone now. They waited to see what Tun would do.

A few paces from the marshmen he halted and signed to Tor to do the same. They laid their digging sticks on the ground and walked on, with their right hands raised, palms forward, the sign of peace. They halted again and waited for the laughter to end. Ko thought Tor looked anxious, but Tun seemed quite confident. As soon as he could make himself heard without shouting he turned and spoke to Net.

“Go back, Net. Take Ko. I, Tun, speak.”

Obediently Net limped up the hill, not looking at Ko. Ko could feel his shame, that he had let himself be so jeered at by these strangers. He couldn't imagine anything more awful. He was afraid Net was now very angry with him, because Ko had got in the way of his hero charge down the hill. What was Ko, a stupid little boy, doing meddling with man stuff?

Kern came to meet them and put his arm round Net and consoled him as he limped back to his friends. Trailing anxiously behind, Ko saw Suth beckon. By the time he reached him Suth was busy watching Tun and Tor dealing with the marshmen.

“Suth, what happens?” he whispered. “Do we fight the marshmen?”

“No. You, Ko, stopped the fighting.”

“I think Net is angry with me for this. Am I bad, Suth?”

Suth snorted, amused.

“No, Ko. This time you are not bad.”

Ko was relieved, but still baffled. Only a few minutes ago everything had seemed so terrifying and hopeless, but now …

“Why do the marshmen laugh, Suth?” he asked. “Why do you smile?”

“Ko, I cannot say. This was laughter stuff, that is all. Net charges. It is a hero charge. Who can stop him? A boy stands in his path. The boy waves his arms, he shouts. The hero does not see the boy. He hits him, he falls, he cannot breathe. The hero is gone … I see it, I laugh. It is laughter stuff … Ah, see, we do not fight. They come. Now Tun gives them salt.”

Ko looked and saw Tun leading the way up the hill, waving to the marshmen to follow. They did so, keeping close together, silent and purposeful, and not seeming at all friendly, but not in the fighting postures with which they had first arrived. Now Ko recognized their leader as his friend from the marshes, but the man didn't seem to notice him.

As they crossed the ridge their leader gave a loud bark, and stopped dead. The others lined up on either side of him. Tun turned and waited. The marshmen paid no attention to him. A low, astonished moan came from their lips. Ko realized what was happening. They had seen the great crocodile head for the first time.

“Suth,” he whispered. “They do not come for salt. They come for our crocodile.”

“Ko, you are right,” muttered Suth. “I tell Tun.”

He caught Tun's eye, and the two men moved aside and talked quietly together. Tun nodded and went on down towards the camp.

With slow, stiff steps the marshmen approached the great head, and halted a few paces in front of it. One by one they knelt, crawled forward, knocked their foreheads on the ground at the foot of the pole, then rose and touched their fingertips to the vicious snout and their own foreheads. They stood for a while, breathing deeply, and walked backwards to their places in the line. Just as Ko had done, the Kin men recognized all this as First One stuff, and watched in silence.

The leader came last. He also took a few paces backward, but instead of returning to the line he halted and came forward again, with his hands raised in front of him, obviously now intending to lift the head from the pole. Ko heard murmurs of anger from the Kin men. This wasn't right. It wasn't the marshmen who'd killed the crocodile, it was Chogi and the women. The head belonged to the Kins. Ko started to feel anxious again. Was there going to be fighting after all?

But Tun had other ideas. As the marshman had been moving back he had come and waited beside the pole. Now, before the marshman reached it, he lifted the head free and carried it forward to meet him. Startled, the marshman halted.

Tun held out the head and made the double hum in his throat that meant
I
give
. The man stared, even more astonished, and then reverently took the head and made his
I
am pleased
sound, loudly, three times.

The whole line of marshmen made noises of wonder and delight as the leader carried the head back to them. He laid it carefully on the ground, hesitated, picked up his fishing stick and looked at Tun. Suddenly he seemed unsure of himself. Ko could see just what he was thinking. He didn't have a gift nearly magnificent enough to offer in exchange for the crocodile head. Would Tun accept the fishing stick, or would he be offended?

But Tun was ready for this. He made a
Come
noise, beckoned to Tor and led the way back up to the ridge.

“Nar, Ko,” said Suth. “Go. Find the women. Say to Chogi,
Wait for Noli's baby. Then come quick, quick. Bring food
.”

“What happens?” asked Ko as he and Nar loped down towards the inlet.

“Tun spoke with Suth,” said Nar. “I hear their words. Tun gives the head of the crocodile. This is his gift. The marshmen gives the path through the marshes. This is his gift. Now Tor says this to him.”

Ko understood at once. Though he and all the other Kin knew the Porcupines well and were expert at using their sounds, it was still often impossible to get them to understand something that Kin could explain to each other in a few words. But the Porcupines had ways of doing it among themselves, with a lot of touching and grunting and gestures, until they agreed on whatever it was. Ko's friend must have done something like this to persuade the other marshmen to join him on his expedition to fetch the crocodile head. And Tor would have the best chance, now, of explaining to him what Tun wanted.

As they neared the inlet Ko heard the sound of women's voices, singing high and happy, rising and falling in waves, three or four voices together, others lacing in and taking over, then a single voice, the chief woman's, Chogi's, ringing with joy, and the first voices answering again, and yet again—the Newborn Girl Song that the daughters of An and Ammu in the Oldtales had invented to sing together when Turka's first child was born.

They halted and waited. It was too soon for men or boys to be let anywhere near the birthplace, however urgent the message. As the last notes died Mana came running towards them.

“Noli's baby is born!” she cried. “It is a girl. She is beautiful, beautiful. Nar, Ko, why are you here? What happens?”

“A big thing happens, Mana,” said Nar. “Go. Find Chogi. Tell her,
Come quick
.”

Mana hesitated a moment, but she could see this wasn't just boy stuff. Nar was serious. She scampered back down among the thickets. A little later Chogi appeared, frowning even more deeply than usual, obviously displeased by the interruption of important woman stuff. Impatiently at first she listened to Nar's explanations, but then nodded and said, “This is good. The birth is easy. Noli is strong. We come soon. Tell this to Tun. Now, go.”

When the boys got back to the camp they found that Tun and Tor had somehow persuaded the marshmen to guide them into the marsh. Now, while they waited for the women, the men were sitting in the shade of the trees, with the crocodile head perched on a nearby boulder, and the marshmen were learning how to play the pebble game.

Before long the women arrived. Noli, tired but laughing with happiness, showed Tor his daughter. Tor hugged and stroked her, and then carried the baby round to show to the men, coming to Ko last of all. As far as Ko was concerned the baby was just a baby, wrinkled and floppy the way newborn babies always were. Her skin was paler than Noli's dark brown, much nearer the tan colour of Tor and the Porcupines. Ko made the correct
Praise
sounds while Tor beamed with pride and delight.

Meanwhile the Kins shared food with their visitors. Nobody got more than a mouthful or two, as the store was almost empty, and they hadn't foraged long that morning before Noli's baby had started to come. But it was important to do everything they could to signal to the marshmen that they wanted them to be friends and allies. To make up for the scanty meal, Tun gave each of the visitors a palmful of salt, and they were delighted.

Now it was time to go. While the Kins packed their gourds with anything they had to carry, and Ko helped Tinu fill and seal the fire log, the visitors laid two of their fishing sticks side by side on the ground, settled the crocodile head between them and lashed it firm with reed leaves. When they were ready their leader arranged them in single file, pushing them around till he had them where he wanted.

Ko watched, fascinated. Only five days ago this man had let himself be driven back to his island by the other marshmen, but now he was completely in command, and nobody questioned him. It was because of the crocodile head, Ko guessed. He had discovered it, and now Tun had given it to him. That made him a big man, important.

When he was satisfied the leader barked, once. The two men at the head of the line bent and picked up the fishing sticks and lifted them onto their shoulders, one at each end, with the crocodile head sagging between them. The leader took two of the wooden tubes from his belt, and the four men at the back did the same. He placed himself at the head of the procession and marched off, rattling his tubes together as he went. The four at the back joined in and the whole line followed him up to the ridge, with the Kins, men, women and children, trailing behind.

As the haze-hidden marsh came in sight the leader gave a shout of triumph, and the other six answered with cries of praise. A few paces farther they repeated it, and again and again as they marched down the slope.

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