"It is feared gods have descended upon the land, or perhaps bear people have returned. This must be investigated with a hunter reconnaissance. If gods or bear people have descended to the ground, we will find them. If bear people, we will defend ourselves. If gods, then we will show reverence. Long life." Braan pivoted, chirped for Brappa to follow, and marched from the chambers, talons clicking with impunity.
Braan strode swiftly through the assembly hall and proceeded onto the wide terrace, pausing only to shake out his membranes. The hunter leader marched up a stone ramp onto a crenellation in the flower-bedecked wall and pushed himself gracefully out over the steam-filled abyss. Brappa, but two steps behind, duplicated every move. The hunters, father and son in tight formation, settled into a swooping glide, searching for rising currents of air. Picking up speed, they banked sharply downriver, leaving the wide terrace in the foggy steam.
After echo-ranging their way along the cliffs and riding the meager morning convection currents, the two flyers emerged from the broken strands of steam. Flapping huge wings with slow, silent beats to break their advance, they landed softly on the terrace of the hunter chief's residence. The enveloping steam was less dense at the higher altitude, and warrens of hunter residences could be seen pockmarking the rocky cliffside. Cooking smells blended with the mineral-rich steam, pleasantly tempting olfactory receptors. The residence was distinguished by a cleverly crafted perimeter of black marble and gold inlay—a gift to Braan' s legendary great-grandfather Soong from the stone carver guild in appreciation for routing the eagles.
Ki, wife of Braan and mother of Brappa, possessed the acute hearing of all dwellers. She waited upon the narrow terrace, holding an infant on her hip. Ecstasy at seeing both son and husband radiated from her countenance. She stood silently until Braan removed the leather thong from around his neck, and then she commenced the welcome. "Welcome home, honored husband. And welcome, my beloved son," Ki warbled and bowed, averting eye contact.
Brappa returned the bow. The father remained silent.
"'Tis good to be returned to the warm mists of my mother's home. Sentry duty is cold, but…but I do well. I have friends," Brappa replied, also avoiding his mother's eyes. "Please forgive my ill-chosen words, for I meant not to complain."
"I heard no complaint, son-of-mine. It has been twenty days since thou went to duty, and thou art grown even more," she graciously spoke.
"Thank thee, my mother, for so saying. Thou art kind and generous," Brappa responded properly, compliment for compliment.
The infant, Brappa' s sister, quiet to this point, lost patience with the formal progress of the reunion. She waved skinny arms, her incipient wings brushing the mother's face. She yelled, her high-pitched voice and nascent echo-ranging system clashing together. Braan, chuckling, relieved his wife of the tiny burden, encompassing the chick with a fold of his flight membranes. The infant squealed with the rough handling, happy to have gained her objective. Custom satisfied, son and mother also hugged, Brappa's wings overlapping and enveloping Ki's diminutive form. They were unconcerned about the overt familiarity; the mists of the river valley were thick this morning, and hunters were perversely proud of their affections. And at this elevation they were among only hunter clans.
Nevertheless, they politely moved their embraces and good feelings into the low-ceilinged domicile, a precisely chiseled cave with the surpassing luxury of six chambers, unique in that it did not connect with neighboring caves. It had two other exits—a mixed blessing. Hidden and small, the exits provided ventilation and emergency egress, but they were also avenues for predators. Eagles, growlers, and rockdogs occasionally still evaded sentries, terrorizing the cliff dwellers, particularly the hunters, whose homes honeycombed the higher cliffs. Spirit lamps and the familiar gurgle of rapidly moving water welcomed the family as they stepped inside, and the odor of baking fish and green-onion soup combined with other smells of hearth and home.
They ate quickly and noisily. Brappa asked his father about his foray to the northern salt flats, but Braan had little to tell. A routine salt mission, the great herds were migrating, and the smellwas worse than the memory of it. They had seen white-rumps, field dragon, and many, many eagles. Growlers had been encountered, but fortunately the hunters avoided serious conflict. The predators were glutted with the flesh of the buffalo, typical for this time of year. The quota demands had required a large group of salt bearers. Braan wished for an easier solution to satisfying the dwellers' increasing appetite for salt. The expeditions were too big, too vulnerable.
Braan indicated he was through, and the family ceased eating. Braan looked at his son.
"Report to the sentry captain and secure permission for three capable sentries to accompany warriors on a reconnaissance. I request thee be included, although it is Kuudor' s choice. Present the sentry captain with my respects, and inform him the expedition will depart on the afternoon thermals. Go," Braan ordered.
Brappa acknowledged the command, his excitement but poorly suppressed. Stopping only to give his mother a fleeting glance, the sentry darted through the home, jumped upon the low terrace wall, and leapt into the mists, wings popping as he heaved air downward.
Ki slowly followed her last living son to the terrace and watched him depart, as wives and mothers of hunters have watched their fathers, husbands, and sons, generation upon generation. Ki had already lost two sons, stout and brave—and so young. Too young.
"He is ready," Ki spoke sadly. She turned to stare into her husband's eyes, as she did only when they were alone. "Take care of my son."
It was a plea and a command. Braan moved close to his wife and held her face in his hands, rubbing her forehead against his, softly transmitting and receiving sonic bursts. Ki stepped backwards trying to smile, large eyes welling with moisture. Her husband had only just returned from one dangerous mission and was about to embark on another, taking with him her remaining male-child. Hunters lived short lives of endless struggle. Her husband was the leader of all hunters. Duty was his touchstone and death his faithful companion.
"Please take care of yourself, glorious husband." She bowed. Braan returned the bow. The hunter stood erect and silently padded into one of the smaller chambers. Opening the hidebound wooden chest that he had closed tightly just days before, Braan extracted his leather armor, iron knife, and shortbow and quiver. He somberly donned the equipment and, pausing only to squeeze his wife's hands, departed over the edge, wings whipcracking steamy air. Echoes died quickly in the mist.
The moaning had stopped—soft, gently expulsive sounds, like a distant, plaintive fog horn. Rounding the windswept lakeshore, Shannon felt as if they were being watched. He was profoundly relieved to make the shelter of the yellow-barked trees.
"Found.. a cave, Sarge," gasped Petit. The Marine lay in a heap behind a scraggly log, barrel chest heaving for air. Shannon dropped to a knee behind the fallen sprucelike tree and tried to control his own breathing. He could discern little about the cave; the small opening was elevated, and the shaft—if there was a shaft—dipped sharply away. A rocky overhang shadowed the entrance area. Tatum, fifty meters ahead, leaned heavily against large rocks directly beneath the cave. Shannon looked down the hill and traced their path across the plateau.
After leaving the higher ground of their landing zone, the terrain approaching the lake had deteriorated into spongy tundra. Game trails provided paths but also tended to meander and disappear into the reed-choked water. Magnificent white blossoms grew in abundance near the lake, their vines intertwining with lake reeds and tundra vegetation. The flowers sprouted from bulbous nodules in the vines. Shannon made a mental note to investigate them as a food possibility. But those thoughts were dispelled by the desultory moaning that came from all around them yet came from nowhere.