With Armun working hard to learn the new language, Kerrick could devote all of his time to investigating the fascinating activities and skills of the Sasku. He discovered that the hard bowls were really made from soft clay found in a thin layer in one particular hillside. The clay was molded and shaped while still wet, then put in an immensely hot oven to dry, an oven shaped from stones and more of the clay itself. Wood burned beneath it day and night and the heat worked a change that turned clay to stone.
Of even greater interest were the fibers they used for ropes and cord, that they wove into cloth to be made into clothing. These came from a little green plant called charadis. The seeds were not only good to eat, but when hammered and pressed produced an oil with many uses. However it was the stems of the plant that were of most value.
The charadis stalks were put into shallow ponds and heavy rocks were placed on top of them to hold them under water. After a certain time the soggy stalks were removed and dried in the sun, then beaten on stone slabs. Special wooden tools with prongs were used to rake out and separate the fibers, which the women then twisted and spun into strong lengths. Many of these lengths could be wound together to make cords and ropes, which were then knotted into nets for fishing and catching animals. Best of all, the thin lengths were stretched on wooden frames, many of them, close together. Then the women wove other threads back and forth between them to make the white fabric that Armun so greatly admired. She soon discarded her skins and furs and dressed as the other women did in the soft charadis cloth.
Armun was happy among the Sasku, happier than she had ever been in her life before. Her baby would be born soon and she was grateful that she was warm and comfortable here and not spending the winter in a cold tent. She had no desire, big as she was, to climb the barrier of stone to go back to the sammads by the river for the birth. But this was not the important reason. Her sammad was here, Kerrick her sammadar. She dated the beginning of her real life from the moment he had looked into her face and had not laughed. The Sasku did not laugh at her either, taking no notice of her divided lips at all, lost as they were in admiration of her fair skin, her hair as pale as charadis. That is what they called it, for it was almost as white as the cloth itself. She felt at home among them, talking easily now in their language, learning to spin and cook the crops that they grew. The baby would be born here.
Kerrick did not question the decision, was pleased by it if anything. The cleanliness of the stone caves, the soft luxury of the woven cloth, was far superior to the windy tents and vermin-ridden furs. Life with the Sasku was, in many ways, like the bustle of life in a Yilanè city, though he did not often make this observation consciously. He did not like to think of the Yilanè at all, and let his thoughts slip away from them whenever some chance resemblance brought them to mind. The mountains and desert were a barrier: the Yilanè could not find them here. That was the way it should be. He had responsibilities now and they took precedence over everything. The birth was the important thing. Though only to him and Armun. Another birth was of greater importance to the Sasku and it was all that they could talk about.
The mastodon cow, Dooha, was also giving birth. This would be her fourth calf so that she and the sammads accepted it as a natural occurrence.
Not so the Sasku. Kerrick was beginning to understand some of the reverence that they had for the mastodons. They knew many things about the world that the Tanu did not, in particular they knew about the spirits of the beasts and rocks, about what lay beyond the sky, where the world had come from and what the future would be like. They had special persons called manduktos who did nothing except pay attention to such matters. Sanone was first among them and led them, just as the manduktos led the rest of the Sasku. His powers were very much like that of a Yilanè eistaa. Therefore, when he sent for him Kerrick went at once to the cave. Sanone sat before the image of the mastodon and waved Kerrick to sit beside him.
“You have journeyed a great distance to reach this valley,” Sanone said. Like the Tanu the Sasku came slowly to the subject at hand. “And you battled with the murgu who walk like men. We have never seen murgu like this so you must tell me of them.”
Kerrick had told him often about the Yilanè but he did so once again knowing that this was a step along the way to whatever reason Sanone had for this visit.
“Such killing, such creatures!” Sanone trembled when he thought about the evil the Yilanè had done. “And they killed not only Tanu but mastodon as well?” There was unconcealed horror in his voice when he said this.
“They did.”
“You know a little our reverence for the mastodons. You have looked at the painting above me. I will now tell why these great creatures are held in such esteem. In order to know this you must understand how the world came into being. It was the creator, Kadair, who made the world as you see it now. He made the water to run, the rain to fall, the crops to grow. He made it all. When he made the world it was solid rock and barren. Then he took the form of a mastodon. When the mastodon-who-was-Kadair stamped his feet the rock opened and the valley was formed. The mastodon’s trunk sprayed water and the river ran. From the mastodon’s dung the grass grew and the world was fertile. This was how the world began. When Kadair left, the mastodon stayed behind to remind us always of what he had done. This is why we worship the mastodon. Now you understand.”
“I do and am honored to hear of these things.”
“The honor is ours to have you here. For you lead the people who tend the mastodon and you have led them here. For this we are grateful. The manduktos gathered last night and talked of this, and then we watched the stars all the rest of the night. There were portents there, burning fire in the sky, trails of fire all pointing this way. There is meaning in these things. We know them to mean that Kadair had guided the sammads here for some hidden reason. Last night that reason became clear. You were guided here so that we could witness the birth of the mastodon calf.”
Now Sanone leaned forward and there was great concern in his voice when he spoke. “Can the cow be brought here? It is important that the calf be born here with the manduktos in attendance. I cannot tell you why this is important because that is a mystery we must not speak about. I can assure you there will be great gifts if you will permit this. Will you do it?”
Kerrick respected their beliefs, though he did not understand them, so he spoke with care. “I would say yes at once, but it is not for me to decide. The sammadar who owns the cow named Dooha will decide. I will talk with him and tell them of the importance of this.”
“It is of an importance that you cannot understand. Go to this sammadar. I will send manduktos with you, bearing gifts, so our sincerity will be clear.”
Armun was sleeping when he returned. Kerrick moved silently so as not to awaken her. He bound on his leggings with the thick soles and left. Sanone was waiting on the ground below. Two of the younger manduktos were with him, bent under the weight of the woven baskets on their backs.
“They will accompany you,” Sanone said. “When you have spoken with the sammadar you will tell them if our request has been granted. They will run here with the news.”
Kerrick was glad to stretch his legs; it had been a long time since he been to the campsite. At the rock barrier he saw that the river was high; the snow was melting in the distant valleys. Once past the barrier he pushed on at a steady pace, then had to stop and wait for the heavily laden manduktos to catch up with him. The sun was warm and the spring rains had turned the grass green. Blue flowers were springing up on the hillside. He pulled off a long stem of sweet grass and chewed on it while he was waiting for the manduktos.