Chapter 1

In the darkness of a frozen tundra, there was a flickering light, coming from a large bonfire. Surrounding the bonfire, there were dozens of little huts, built from bones and hides. The bones were large, much larger than the group of humans surrounding the campfire, and the hides were of various shapes and colours, from white, to dark brown. It truly looked like they built it from whatever they could find. After all, in such frozen lands where the snow reached beyond your eye’s horizon, you would rarely find any wood at all. Everything was covered in frozen ice. But somehow, even though everything was so cold and difficult, these people surrounding the bonfire, all remained cheerful and energetic. After all, they never knew anything different.

This wasn’t just some cold winter; it was the ice age. The world was in a perpetuum of winter. They called it the season of never ending snow. However, the concept of seasons was mysterious to them. All they knew of it were legends of a time long passed, where the heat from a bonfire would envelope the entire world. Where the light of day would be long lasting, and where the snow would melt. However, this was all passed down, through the word of mouth. They had never seen it. Nor had their parents, or grandparents, or even their grandparents’ grandparents. No one believed that such a world was possible. All it was, was just a story, to tell children before they went to sleep.

Life was hard, but they still fought for survival, and this very night they celebrated, for their men had successfully downed a mammoth! Whenever they managed to hunt a mammoth, it would be great news for the tribe. It would allow the tribe food for weeks, and the bones were great for constructing huts. The shamans also greatly valued their tusks. They were very useful in rituals, and the powder made from it could be used as medicine, or so they believed.

Amongst all these people, there was one young boy, especially excited. He had dark brown hair, almost black, and was about ten years old. He looked on in amazement, at the carcass of the large woolly mammoth, as the men were cutting it up with their crude bone knives. On his side was a large man, also adorned with dark brown hair, but accompanied with a large beard, like most the men had. The man and boy both shared brown eyes, just like everyone else in the tribe. As a matter of fact, they had never seen anyone with differently coloured eyes, so they didn’t think it was possible for humans to have other colours. And, at the time, it wasn’t.

The large man with brown hair, beard, and eye combo, too, looked proudly at the mammoth carcass. He was the chieftain of the clan, and the young boy next to him, was his son. His wife was with the other women, preparing dinner. Tonight they would have a feast.

“What a wonderful catch,” the large man said with a deep, loud voice, “in a few dozen moons, then you, too, shall join in the hunt, Ulfvaldr. Until then, you just have to practice diligently in throwing your spears, and shooting your arrows and helping the gatherers. I am sure that you will grow up to be an amazing hunter, and one day, you shall be the next chief. You are not like the others; you must work hard, for the sake of our tribe!” The large chieftain continued. The young boy, named Ulfvaldr, looked at his father and said,

“Yes father! I am sure that I will become the greatest hunter of the tribe, and lead our tribe to greatness!” Ulfvaldr looked very determined, and he had always looked forward to the day when he could join the hunt. He looked greatly up to his father, who was named Skegg. Humorously enough, Skegg meant beard, which attributed to his great beard. Some even said that he was born with his great beard, which is why he was named as such. This, of course, wasn’t true.

As for Ulfvaldr, it meant wolf-wolf. It, too, was pretty humorous, but people rarely thought that much about the meaning of names. Usually, people just called him Ulf, or Valdr. If anything, the name made it even harder for him, as the wolf was great hunter, and his name had two wolves in it! He was determined to work hard; he had to be. From the day he was born, he had always been told that he would be the next chieftain; there was no small amount of pressure on him.

Skegg, also greatly cared for his son. He was the only son he had, so he was his only heir. It wasn’t that he never had any other children, they just never survived. Most children that were born, wouldn’t survive the harsh climate. There were even some women who never had a single child survive more than a few years. However, by the time the child was as old as Ulfvaldr, there was a great chance for them to grow up. Skegg doubted whether he’d ever have another child survive the years.

After giving his speech to his son, Skegg finally decided to go and help the others with the workload of the mammoth. He took out a knife, made from white yellowish bone, and started cutting. Ulfvaldr, too, went over to try and help, but there wasn’t much he was able to do. He just carried the meat to their storage pit, and fetched things that the adults needed, together with the few other children.

Later, Ulfvaldr made his way over to the bright fire, where his mother was at. They were busily cooking meat over the open fire. A delicious fragrance went over the frozen campsite, and made everyone even hungrier; especially the men. When they went on long hunting trips, food would always be a shortage, as vegetation was very rare, and there was a limit to how much they could carry.

They were largely bound to hunting small game, for their meals. So they were naturally very hungry, after the several day long trip. These parts sadly didn’t have many animals, so they often went hungry. They rarely found any rabbits, or the like. It was mostly just predators. From time to time, someone would get fed up with it and leave the tribe in search for better places, but they never came back. Everyone believed them dead. Ulfvaldr’s mother saw him coming running towards her, and welcomed him with open arms.

“Ulf kind*, my dear, come help us a bit,” his mother, Rafarta, said with a light hearted voice. Rafarta was Ulfvaldr’s mother, but she was not from this tribe. She had been taken from another tribe about eleven years ago, in a raid, which was the norm. People often took mates from neighbouring tribes, be it by aggression, or agreement.

In this case, it had been aggression, as there had been some grievances between the two tribes. However, those grievances were long forgotten, and both tribes minded their own business these days. Tribes couldn’t afford to hold prolonged grudges. However, from that fight many years ago, young Rafarta had been taken, and the chieftain quickly fell for her. Rafarta also fell back for him, as time passed, and Ulfvaldr was born. Rafarta was a very beautiful woman, in her twenties. She, too, had dark hair, with brown coloured eyes.

*Kind means child, in the sense of family or offspring. Pronounced kihnd.

And thus, the moons quickly passed, and Ulfvaldr grew taller and older. On his fifteenth year, he had gone out with his father and the others, for his first hunt. It would be a several day trip, as they were going to go a bit away from the tribe, in hopes of finding some big game. If they were lucky, they might find a mammoth, or a giant elk, or if they weren’t, they could come upon wolves, or even worse, a saber cat! If that happened they might lose a few men, which would be very bad, but the chances of that happening were low. Saber cats were usually alone, and wouldn’t approach a large group of humans, and the same could be said about the wolves. Except that wolves were in packs.

As they walked, it was quite dark, from all the clouds covering the sky. It was cold, as always, as they trod through the ice and snow. It was very chilly; you could feel the cold to the bones. It was not rare for one to get frostbite; a lot of people missed a toe or two, or even a finger.

The landscape was very sombre; there was only ice, as far as the eye could reach. Cliffs of ice, hills of ice, ground of ice. Ice everywhere. It was a landscape which you would quickly tire from, but these tribesmen knew nothing else. It was all they had ever seen; only ice. They could only continue to walk.

It had already been two days, before any prey was found. But they were lucky. They had come upon a small group of woolly mammoths. But that was only the first of it. They still needed to kill one of them, and bring it back, and that was easier said, than done. Charging at a whole group of mammoths was suicide. They needed to find a relatively secluded one, preferably a small, weak one, then chase it into a trap. If they could separate them, it would be sublime.

The group of tribesmen made sure to stay a good distance away from the mammoth herd, as they made their plans. After they finished, about half of the group separated and went for a frozen hill, in the distance. Skegg turned to his son, and put his hand on his fur covered shoulder.

“Remember, son, you just need to chase the mammoth with us, don’t get too close. When we manage to chase the mammoth to the others, you just stay back, and throw your spears, alright? Remember, just stay back. This is only your first time, no need to show your bravery,” Skegg said. Ulfvaldr looked at his father, and nodded his head. He wouldn’t go against the orders of his father, the chief. He knew that if he somehow managed to mess things up, then there was no way he could make it up. As the future chief, he had to be capable, and most of all, he had to not be stupid.

As they finished talking, and the other group had made their way to the hill, the main group started sneaking towards the mammoths. The journey over, took about fifteen minutes, as they tried to be sneaky. When finally there, they sat down to wait. They needed to wait for the best opportunity. They only had one shot at this; they would only be able to chase a single mammoth. Any more, and they’d be taking a workload beyond their capabilities. They wouldn’t even be able to carry more than a single mammoth, back home.

The wait was very cold, and they could only lie still on the ground. They all felt the cold chill into their bones, and the temptation to rise and run was great. But they had to fight on. If they messed up, it was all over. If the mammoths ran away, it would be a pain to chase after them.

Finally, after an hour of waiting, a single mammoth made a small distance away from the herd. Their opportunity had finally showed itself. Skegg looked in the eyes of his son, with a look that told him to prepare himself. Ulfvaldr gulped, as he rose up with the others. With a fierce cry, the group split in two, once again.

“YAYAYAYAAHAAA!” They screamed, as one group chased the lone mammoth, while the other chased the group, with the purpose of scaring them into retreat. However, they only chased a short distance, until they regrouped with the main group. Now, it was a game of chasing.

They needed to chase the mammoth in a single direction, while making all kinds of cries and screams. The men would go around it, in a half circle, and make sure that the mammoth could only go in a single direction. One of the few advantages humans had over the other animals, was their endurance. They didn’t possess great speed, nor strength, but they could run longer. They took great advantage of that fact, and would try their best to tire down their prey. Chases would often last hours on end.

As the mammoth tried to run to the side, the hunters would hurl their spear at them, lodging it deep inside it. This would make the mammoth turn direction again, except if they were really unlucky. This happened several times, and as they finally made it to the hill, the mammoth already had five spears lodged in its hide. As they neared the hill, the other group were naturally made aware of them, from the loud screams. In a flash, they appeared from a boulder, and hurled their spears at the mammoth, while a few others toppled the boulder, right towards the huge mammoth.

“OUT OF THE WAY!” Skegg shouted, as the boulder came rolling down the hill. This was naturally a part of the plan, but he still made sure that everyone got out of harm’s way. The ice boulder crashed into the side of the mammoth, and shattered into pieces, as the mammoth collapsed, and was sent a few meters back. As the mammoth lay in its side, all the hunters shouted their war cries, and lunged their spears into the mammoth, until it breathed its last breath. Finally, they had felled the mammoth!

“YAAAAAAAAAAAH!” They screamed in victory, as they raised their spears. Naturally, Ulfvaldr took part in this ritual as well. Then came the dreadful part. They needed to get this beast back home. And it was no easy task. The mammoth weighed several tons, and it would take a lot of effort. But the men could only clench their teeth, and get to work. If they all worked together, it wouldn’t be too hard. Luckily, they had brought some tools to help them. They were composed of large ‘sticks’ made from bones, which they would tie the mammoth to. Then they would proceed to drag it home. It would be a long, and arduous task, but in the end, it would be more than worth it. The mammoths were truly valuable, to this people of the Ice Age. It contained both a lot of meat and fat, as well as its hide. It had the most fur of any animal.

In this age, this small community was largely dependent on furs and fat, as well as bones. All their tools were made from bones, and all their clothes were made from furs. In this cold age, they needed warm clothes, or they would freeze to death.

Then, as they had made their preparations, they finally began pulling. All of the men were helping, and the mammoth was slowly moving. It took about a week of arduous work, before they finally made it back, to their little village. As some child saw them creeping towards the village in the distance, he quickly notified everyone else. In but a moment, all the men and women stopped what they were doing, and came out to wait.

“It’s a mammoth! By the Áss*, they got a mammoth!” They exclaimed. It had been a long time since they last caught a mammoth, and it was great news for the tribe. Now they would have food for a long time, and wouldn’t have to worry. The pregnant woman also had better chances for successfully bearing children. With a surplus of food and furs, the new-borns would have a greater chance at surviving. It was very important for the tribe that the children survived. After all, there weren’t that many people. The tribe only numbered about thirty people, and that was already quite a bit, for the time.

*Áss means god, or gods.

As the hunters finally made their way to the tribe, Rafarta came running towards them, and put her son in a large embrace. She was truly proud of her son. For them to catch a mammoth on the first hunting trip of her son was truly an amazing thing to her. She had no doubt that the gods somehow favoured Ulfvaldr.

“Ah, my dear Ulf kind! I’m so proud of you, I knew you would do well, I knew it! You must truly be favoured by the Áss, for you all to catch a mammoth on your very first time! I knew it!” She exclaimed gladly, as she held her son tightly. A few of the men looked at them with mocking grins. It wasn’t that they actually mocked them; everyone in the tribe was quite close, but the scene was quite humorous. The great warrior, apparently favoured by the gods, was being hugged by his mother!

“Mother, please stop, you’re embarrassing me,” Ulfvaldr said, with a red face. Not that he was that embarrassed, but his mother was quite strong, and he had a hard time breathing. He started to push himself away, but to no avail.

“What are you talking about, can’t a mother hug her son?” She asked with a question mark. Skegg shook his head, and said,

“Rafarta, you should stop. Valdr is the next chief in line; he can’t look weak in front his peers and seniors. He must be strong, for the tribe, so stop treating him like a child. He’s already an adult.”

He looked towards his son, and put his hand on the fifteen-year-old man’s shoulder. These days, you were already an adult, by this age. After all, the life expectancy was quite low. You would be lucky to live for forty years.

After dragging the woolly mammoth back to camp, the work began. They had to skin it and slaughter it, then store the meat. Luckily, it was so cold that the meat would never rot, but instead freeze. They had dug a hole, using their rough bone tools, where they stored the meat. This way, the hole could act like an impromptu freezer. Not that they knew what a freezer was. Digging that hole had been quite the workload, since the ice was quite tough and hard. And the bad thing was that every time they had to migrate, they needed to make a new hole, if there wasn’t something there functional at their new location already.

After many hours of work, they had finally cut most of the hide off, and stored the meat. Now, there was only a pile of bones left. They just let them stay in corner, where it wouldn’t bother anyone. It wasn’t as important to store the bones, as it was the meat. The bones wouldn’t attract any wild animals, like the meat could.

After all the work was finally finished, they had a small feast for the first time in several years. But it was only a small feast. They might be primal simpletons, but they still had survival instincts; they wouldn’t splurge at the cost of their livelihood.

Later, the over two dozen tribesmen sat around their flickering campfire, munching on the brown, slightly black, meat in their hands. Everyone was festive, and were enjoying themselves. They drank water, melted from frozen ice and snow, contained in bone cups and craniums. The men were singing their primal songs, while the women danced. There were festive moods in the air, and everyone was affected.

“Valdr, my mǫgr*, this is what it means to live in a tribe; this is what it means to live. We fight every day, with the sole goal of survival. We are surrounded by enemies; be it the elements, wolves, or sabre cats. Every day we fight. But that is what life is about, don’t you agree, mǫgr. But it is on days like this that we truly live. When we come home, to see the expectant faces of our kin, and live up to those expectations. Today we have lived up to the hopes of all our kin. Don’t forget, Ulfvaldr, never forget. When I once pass away, all this will be left to you,” Skegg said to his son, with a determined, albeit confident expression. He had high hopes in his son. Maybe, he was like his mate, and truly believed that his son was blessed by the Áss. But there was no such thing, as being blessed by the Áss; all that led to this success, was luck. But all luck will eventually run out.

And that’s when, everything went dark. Fierce winds blew over the campsite, like a thundering mammoth, and instantly extinguished the fire. Soon, everything was covered in a veil of white, and everyone found trouble seeing. A sudden snow storm had struck.

*Mǫgr means boy, young man, in special sense of it being your own son. It is pronounced like ‘Moegr’ or ‘Moegir’