The Glaciermen #30: Contest

Early access prepublication manuscripts of "The Glaciermen"

Happy Tuesday Dear Readers,

As the old saying goes, ‘no news is good news.’

That’s why I avoid paying attention to the news sometimes—it feels like no news, which is therefore good news. Life-hack accomplished.

This way, it’s easier to deal with the day-to-day of life without wondering if my house is inside the nuclear blast radius of the nearby urban center.

But sometimes news finds you anyway, disturbing a peaceful moment. Hopefully, that’s not the case for you, and instead you’re enjoying a cup of coffee or tea on a Swiss train through the Alps or something like that.

But Lee is not so lucky in this segment, and will have to face something he’s been avoiding for a long time…

(Here’s the previous segment if you missed it, and the first chapter and index, if you’re new).

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Recap: The last we saw of Lee, he had survived his trial and been called by the shaman to witness a bloody ritual, then was left alone to ponder an ominous message. But that was a long time ago now, and the dark memories of those happenings were better left unexplored.

Contest

It had been nine years since their first clash back in the village. A bead of sweat trickled down Lee’s neck. His muscles were tense as he kept perfectly still, spear in hand, focus fixed entirely on his quarry. Nantuk stood just a few paces away, his own spear poised and ready.

Lee had just turned eighteen. He was no longer a boy, but a true man, having filled out in both frame and stature. His skills had progressed as well, which was why Nantuk had ambushed him while he was fishing and issued the challenge—as a real man now, he would have to accept or carry the shame of cowardice.

So here they stood, knee deep in the waters of the chasm lake, each waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Any mistake, any flinch, would give away the advantage. Another bead of sweat began to trickle down Lee’s shaven scalp, this one down his forehead, on track to find its way into his eye.

Not now! Lee thought.

He couldn’t risk sparing a hand to wipe it away. Any wrong movement could spell the end for him. The droplet ran across his brow. It seemed as if it was aiming for his eye on purpose, where it would land with stinging saltiness and blur his vision. He had no choice. Just as he lifted one hand from his spear to wipe it away, Nantuk lunged.

“No!” Lee cried, watching the spear stab into its intended target. 

It was over. Nantuk had bested him.

Nantuk pulled back the spear and held it up triumphantly to show his prize: a wriggling fish.

“Admit it,” Nantuk said, “Admit that I, Nantuk, am the better fisherman, nay, the better man! I am the first to spear ten fish, and I have won this contest. That is proof enough!”

Lee dropped to his knees and bowed mockingly. He was not about to let Nantuk get away with this.

“Oh great one,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “at least honor me in my defeat. Allow me to kiss the hands that have bested me.”

Ever eager for any opportunity to gloat, Nantuk ignored the obvious trap and strode forward to hold out his hand. Instead of kissing it, Lee dove at Nantuk’s legs, tackling him into the shallow water.

After a few moments of thrashing and wrestling, Lee had Nantuk in a headlock. Nantuk, coughing past water, cried out, “Enough—aghk—I surrender!”

Lee let him go, then, sitting on their haunches up to their waists in the water, both young men broke out into hearty laughter and clasped each other by the forearm, as was their custom after such bouts.

“That was a good match,” Lee said, shaking the water from his head, “It was pretty close there at the end—I was up to eight fish.”

Nantuk splashed him, then said, “You’re full of it. I had you the whole time and you know it. Only a fool accepts a spear fishing contest with the great Nantuk. I’m the best in the whole chasm.”
“Still got you after, though,” Lee said, splashing him back.

Nantuk frowned, “You know that’s not fair—you’re twice my size. I’m still waiting for all my muscle to fill in, but here you are bursting at the seams.”

Lee shrugged. “You fish most days. I carry heavy things up and down the stairs most days.”

The two young men shared lighthearted jests back and forth as they collected the rest of the catch from the nets and traps Lee had set out earlier. As they were finishing up, three men began making their way across the stoney clearing from the village toward the shore. It was Sugu, Nassik, and Pek, the fishing crew that followed Nantuk’s father, Muktuk, like seal pups.

“If it isn’t the three stooges,” Lee commented to Nantuk while the older men were still out of earshot.

Nantuk wrinkled his eyebrows, “There you go again with one of your made up surface-dweller words. What is a ‘thur-ee stoo-jazz’ anyway?”

Lee shrugged. “Just something my grandmother would show me on tv—I mean, tell stories about. The word ‘stooge’ just means ‘idiot’, more or less.”

Nantuk gave Lee a look. “You really are just too strange sometimes. No wonder the others leave you alone. You’re lucky you have such a pretty face or I couldn’t be caught dead with you.”

Lee chuckled at the friendly barb as they shouldered their gear and began back toward the village. As he and Nantuk passed the three men, silent nods were exchanged, but no smiles or greetings. Ever since coming back from his trial with the head of a polar bear, Lee had earned the respect of the village, but despite years living amongst them, still very few were cordial toward him—few besides Nantuk and Mika, that is.

And Nantuk had only warmed up to him two years prior, after they were trapped together for three days and three nights when a surprise blizzard struck during a seal hunt. As for Mika, Sugu’s daughter, Lee could never figure out why she seemed to find herself around him so often. Lee was strong, and a talented hunter, but there were some things he was completely oblivious to.

They arrived at Nantuk’s family tent. Lee sighed with relief upon seeing that Muktuk was absent. While he may have won over Nantuk, his father Muktuk was a different matter. He refused to speak directly to Lee, and if he ever lowered himself to look at Lee, his eyes burned with resentment. Lee was glad to avoid any encounter with the man. 

Inside the tent, Lee and Nantuk set themselves to cleaning their catch. Shortly, a sweet voice greeted them from the entrance.

“Hey boys, what’re you two up to—wow, that’s a lot of fish!”

It was Mika. To Lee, he still saw her as the quirky eight-year-old who had first bugged him with questions as soon as word had spread about his triumph over the polar bear. She never seemed to care that he was an outsider, and he never seemed to notice the changes as she had grown up over the last nine years. But Nantuk had noticed, and he was enamored with the young woman. She wore her black hair in the customary straight fashion, and sported the same plain tunic as the other Sikanuk women, but her figure was lithe and full, and her face shown with the radiant beauty of youth. Nantuk was helpless.

“Come by to help us gut these?” Lee asked, holding up a fish, innocent as ever.

“Nope,” she said, “Just heard some news that two strong men such as yourselves might want to be aware of.”

“What news?” Nantuk blurted, blushing at the compliment, though it was obviously meant mostly for Lee.

The flirt had gone straight over Lee’s head, as usual, but the promise of news caught his interest, and he looked up from his fish to listen.

“I overheard Muktuk whispering with my father and the other fishermen,” Mika said, “I think there’s some kind of big hunt coming up, but it’s all hush-hush.”

 “This is news,” Lee said. “Aguta hasn’t mentioned anything about a hunt coming up, and he usually knows about these kinds of things. Did you hear what for? Seals? Caribou?”

“No,” Mika replied, “but you both better keep your ears open, because at the very end—” she paused and looked around, then said in a whisper, “I heard Muktuk say ‘tunlaq,’ and the other men went dead silent. I don’t know what it means for the hunt, but it can’t be good. They never get mentioned, and all the men looked really serious.”

Lee was ill-at-ease. He had not heard anyone mention the tunlaq so directly in a long time. Aguta would know something about this. He always knew.

“I should get going,” he said.

“But I just got here,” Mika grumbled.

“That’s alright,” Lee said, “You can stay and help Nantuk.”

Nantuk smiled big, the mention of the tunlaq already forgotten at the prospect of time alone with Mika. “Yeah, stay here with me a while. I could really use the help after catching so many fish all by myself.” 

“Of course, lord fishmaster Nantuk,” she teased, “I’d love to help you clean all the fish Lee caught.”

“Hey!” Nantuk said, catching on to the sarcasm.

“Get along, you two,” Lee said. “I better head out before Nantuk’s dad comes back. It never goes well when we cross paths. See you both later. Let me know if you hear anything else about this mystery hunt.”

• • •

 The chasm breeze was abnormally brisk as Lee climbed the stone stair back to the cave chamber he still shared with Aguta. This too had not changed after his trial, even though he was technically a full member of the Sikanuk tribe. He and Aguta were outsiders, and outsiders did not live among the tents. It was simply the way of things.

Lee’s mind was troubled. He had not given much thought to the tunlaq in years. They never came to the chasm, and the few he had seen elsewhere had always been at a great distance, usually spotted watching from afar during a hunt for seals or while a group was out harvesting driftwood from the coast. The last time he was close to one was during the ritual on the—Lee stopped the thought there, forcing his mind to the present news.

Could it be that Mika simply misheard something about the normal godseye drop off—when the selected men pulled a sled laden with canisters of the mystical gel into the ice tunnels, only to return a day later empty-handed. No, she had good ears, and she heard the words ‘hunt’ and ‘tunlaq’ in the same conversation. That was certain, and bad news.

Suddenly the breeze turned frigid, and Lee felt a deep chill in his chest. He remembered the final words of the tunlaq shaman: ‘I will return when you are of age…’

Had the time finally come? There was no way to know for sure. His only choice was to ask Aguta about it, but he did not want to imagine how that conversation would go. Lee had told no one of the shaman’s final message, not even him. He guessed Aguta would find the revelation quite upsetting.

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And that’s it for now folks

Thanks for reading! I’ll try to post another segment by next Tuesday, so keep an eye on your inbox.

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– Xavier Macfarlane

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