The Reindeer People
A voyage of discovery into the life of a remote aboriginal community in the Siberian Arctic, where the reindeer has been a part of daily life since Palaeolithic times.The Reindeer People is the first in a series of reissues of Megan Lindholm’s (Robin Hobb) classic backlist titles. It is set in the harsh wilderness of a prehistoric North America, and tells the story of a tribe of nomads and hunters as they try to survive, battling against enemy tribes, marauding packs of wolves and the very land itself.Living on the outskirts of the tribe Tillu was happy spending her time tending her strange, slow dreamy child Kerlew and comunning with the spirits to heal the sick and bring blessing on new births.However Carp, the Shaman, an ugly wizened old man whose magic smelled foul to Tillu desired both mother and child. Tillu knew Carp’s magic would steal her son and her soul. Death waited in the snows of the Tundra, but Tillu knew which she would prefer…Gritty and realistic, it’s reminiscent of Jean Auel’s Clan of the Cave Bear but written in the compelling style of the author who produced the bestselling Assassin’s Apprentice.
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The Reindeer People
Megan Lindholm
Part One of a two-book sequence
Voyager
An Imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd. 1 Lodnon Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by Unwin Paperbacks, an imprint of Unwin Hyman Ltd 1989
Copyright © Megan Lindholm Ogden 1988
Megan Lindholm asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
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Source ISBN: 9780007114221
Ebook Edition © SEPTEMBER 2011 ISBN: 9780007394012
Version: 2016-08-18
Table of Contents
‘Go deep,’ he told the boy. ‘Follow the little brown mouse when she takes her seeds and hides from the winter. Go to where the water bubbles up in a spring, and dive into its secret source. Follow the roots of the grandfather spruce down deep into the soil and beyond. This I tell you, for while every shaman must find his own entrance, these are ones that are known to have worked for some. Not all, but some. They are worth trying.’
Kerlew swallowed and tried to keep his drifting eyes on the old man’s face. But Carp added another pinch of herbs to the lamp flame, renewing the wavering curtain of smoke between them. ‘What do I seek?’ Kerlew asked with difficulty.
Carp’s tone was patient. ‘I have told you. You seek for a magic, and a brother. Find a path into the spirit world and it will lead you to a deep room. The walls are of stone, and water drips down them. Roots hang from the ceiling. You must go through this room and out, into the spirit world. Do not speak to anyone in the stone room, not even if he calls you brother and offers you many fine gifts. For if you speak, you must remain there, and he will be free to take your place. Thus are many shamans trapped. I myself have seen them as I passed on my way to the spirit world. Don’t speak to them!’
‘I’m afraid,’ the boy said suddenly.
The old man only shook his head, softening the gesture with a smile. ‘You will go past those ones, and out into the spirit world. I cannot tell you what to expect, because for each shaman it is different. But when you meet your spirit guardian, you will know him. He may choose to test you. He may show you his teeth, or trample you beneath his hooves. He may rend you with his claws, or seize you in his talons and carry you up into the sky. Whatever he does, show no fear. Be bold, and set your palm between his eyes. Then he will be your brother, and he must give you a song or a magic to bring back with you. But if you cry out or flee or strive to hurt him, he will not be your brother. He will kill your spirit, and your body will waste away after you.’
Kerlew clenched his fists to keep his hands from trembling.
Carp saw, and for an instant the sternness of the instructor left his face. He looked down on his apprentice fondly. ‘It will be all right,’ the old man said kindly. ‘Go ahead, now. Don’t be afraid.’ He touched the boy’s cheek with his weathered old hand, dragged his fingertips across Kerlew’s lined brow to soothe away the worry wrinkles. ‘You will be a great shaman, and all will point and tell tales about Carp’s apprentice.’
The boy gave a brief nod and tried to swallow the anxiety that started in his stomach but kept trying to squeeze up his throat. Old Carp smiled at him reassuringly, his pride and belief lighting his seamed old face. His teeth were yellow, separated by black and empty gaps. Kerlew thought his eyes must have been brown once. Now they were skimmed with gray film that reminded him of the green slime that clouded the surface of summer ponds. Kerlew knew that if one stirred the slime with a stick, the depths and wonders of the pond beneath it were revealed. Sometimes when he stared at Carp’s clouded eyes, he thought he glimpsed the depths and wonders beyond the gray that misted them. Gray as the smoke that drifted and wandered through the tent. When he breathed it in, it was like breathing cobwebs. It clung to the inside of his nose and lined his throat with dryness.
