Work Text:
1: Ravens
Raven ate the North Clan’s luck
That’s where the trouble all began.
Not with Stelfor’s raids
Not with Zenangar’s tricks
Not with Basikan’s rites
Not with Hyalor’s death
But with Raven’s beak.
Northclan chieftain cursed her then.
Raven cawed, “I eat, I taunt, you fail—that’s who we are.”
Black-winged flock took up the call
“You fail, you fail, you fail!”
Northclan trickster said to laugh
Northclan chieftain raged instead.
“Corpse-eaters, luck-takers, lie-makers—ravens are our foes!
When you see black feathers, nock your bows!”
Northclan’s chief slew ravens
Spied every nest, broke every egg.
His sons fletched their arrows black
His daughters braided birdskulls in their hair
He himself stitched both into his belt
Where a chieftain should wear gold.
The dead on the battlefield rotted
With no ravens to eat them—
But Raven ate his name.
The circle forgot the name of their chieftain
The wife forgot the name of her husband
The mother forgot the name of her son
Stelfor forgot the name of his victim
Zenangar forgot the name of his cousin
Basikan forgot the name of his friend
Hyalor forgot the name of his grandson
Even Nameforgot forgot.
That’s when the trouble all began.
2: North
“So the whole council is Shilevasas now, and none of ‘em more distant than an aunt. The other six families won’t stand it for long, mark my words…”
“Won’t listen to council much longer, is more like it. Did you hear, those fools want more spirits, even after he bargained away the harvest to coax Mouse and Dove to stay when they’d already eaten everything in the Shilevasa grain house! More spirits, more spirits, more spirits—we can’t sleep for the drumming!”
“It’s not a bad thing to have many spirits. It’s the one thing we can still brag of before the other clans.”
“Hmph! If this goes on we’ll have more spirits than people in this clan. I’d say a hundred was enough. Are we Hyalor’s people or Yanade’s?”
“With this chief we ain’t worth a pot…”
“Maybe we should make a shaman chief instead of him. Couldn’t make things worse.”
“I tell you, our Raven shaman would be a better chief.”
“Don’t remind him we still have one. The man’s not right when it comes to birds.”
“Not sure he’s right about anything.”
“I think it’s mutual.”
“Just because the birds leave more droppings on the chieftain’s house…”
“I think he’s right about the damn things. One of them stole the last plaque off my honor belt!”
“He hasn’t been the same since his daughter went missing. Poor girl.”
“Maybe she ate those glowing mushrooms, like my best mare did.”
“Me, I think she ran off with a boy. It’s not as if we found any bones.”
“A boy? Where would she find one? We have no neighbors but the Vulture People, and who would leave Gamari for a people who can only call on one measly god?”
“If our horses keep dying at this rate, it won’t matter if we worship Gamari or not.”
“Gods or no, the Vulture People live better than us!”
“Their magic is probably stronger, too.”
“Shileva would weep. Hyalor would weep.”
“Vashya would weep with them. But Zervu would laugh, and Bayya would smack her hands together.”
“Now you’re talking about the other clans.”
“I think she’s giving the South Clan too much credit, then.”
“… Not worth a pot…”
3: East, South, and West
When Ostalor First Chieftain died, the First Clan was so large that that it was impossible for everyone to agree on a Second Chief. Finally Hyalor suggested that they should divide into several clans, according to which chief they wished to follow.
The best warriors followed Stelfor west because he was the strongest. The best traders and herders followed Zenangar east because he was the cleverest. The best priests, as well as those who had been most unhappy with the delay, followed Basikan south because of his wanderlust. The remainder of the First Clan followed Nameforgot, but we have forgotten why.
Nameforgot Northclan sent emissaries to the three other clans, offering alliances to all of them. All three refused, saying that an alliance would mean nothing to a clan that allied with every other clan.
Stelfor Westclan’s refusal was the rudest, so Nameforgot sent an honor raid against the West Clan. When he saw them, Stelfor laughed so hard that they turned and left without whooping.
The West Clan raided the North Clan, shedding much blood and driving away many horses, cows and goats. When Hyalor heard of this his hair turned white. When the North Clan raided the East Clan and were driven off, his skin grew thin and dry over his blue veins. And when the East and South clans joined to fight the West Clan rather than trying to talk peace to Stelfor, Hyalor grew as frail as any mortal man in his last winter.
Basikan Southclan and Zenangar Eastclan asked Nameforgot to go with them to the sky realm to heal their far-grandfather of the wound their strife had inflicted. Nameforgot was too afraid of the god roads to help them. The North Clan heard later that Stelfor had also refused. With only two chieftains participating the ritual failed.
A warrior of the West Clan came to Nameforgot, asking for his help against Stelfor. Nameforgot agreed. He was the only North Clan warrior to return from the battle.
Stelfor captured all six of the North Clan’s circle besides Nameforgot. Rather than paying the ransom, which he could not afford, Nameforgot hired mercenaries, which he could not afford either. When they realized this, the mercenaries offered their services to Stelfor and helped him raid the North Clan.
The North Clan came to Nameforgot, complaining that there had been six vacancies on the circle for over a year. Nameforgot appointed six members of his own family, the Shilevasas, to be his advisors.
Nameforgot composed a song insulting Stelfor, but it simply listed his deeds. The North Clan heard later that Stelfor had been heard singing it, and that he assumed one of his own people had invented it to praise him.
The dying Hyalor came to the North Clan to bid farewell. He spoke words of comfort to Nameforgot, but those who overheard were troubled.
Stelfor demanded tribute from the North Clan. Nameforgot agreed.
The West Clan grew so large with the spoils of war that they had to divide into two clans. The most warlike remained with Stelfor, while his eldest son took the rest southwest. The North Clan mourned the cows Stelfor had taken from them to make this division possible.
Stelfor returned to demand more tribute. Nameforgot refused, for he had no goods and few cows left. Stelfor demanded his children as slaves. Nameforgot again refused, and several of his sons died in the ensuing West Clan raid.
The East Clan divided. Zenangar’s youngest daughter led the best traders of the South Clan to the southeast. The North Clan rued their poverty, and the collapse of their last shrine for lack of sacrifices.
Nameforgot’s last surviving daughter vanished while picking berries.
The South Clan grew so large that Basikan let his wisest advisor take the most dissatisfied of the people southeast, while he led those who were happy with his rule southwest. Hearing this the North Clan were amazed that a Hyaloring clan existed where some people were satisfied with their chieftain.
Nameforgot went to Stelfor Westclan and told him to raid the East Clan next, for they were rich. Stelfor made certain that Zenangar and Basikan both heard what Nameforgot had said, so that no one would come to Nameforgot’s rescue at Anguish Ford.
Nameforgot sacrificed everything he had left to the gods, asking for their help in the battle. But the gods did not hear him, and the North Clan whispered that they were as doomed as he was.
+1: Raven
The ravens feasted at Anguish Ford, and no one bothered trying to attack them. There was no point.
Maybe old Nameforgot was there, limping in his bloodstained armor, telling his people to get up and draw their black-fletched arrows. Maybe he was already dead.
But the North Clan’s Raven trickster, she was alive.
All through everything, her chieftain’s failed alliances and insults, the war he waged against her spirit and the tribute he paid all the other spirits, she’d been there, and she’d waited.
When people first said, “Our Raven shaman would be a better chief,” she laughed. When they brought it up again, after the spirits ate the grain and Raven ate the chieftain’s name, she said, “Not yet.” And when they said it a third time, in between killing ravens, she said, “What’s another dead bird to you lot?” And after that they said nothing for a long time.
But after Anguish Ford she walked the battlefield, and she said to her clanmates, “Now.”
Those of the North Clan who could walk she told to follow her; those who couldn’t, she helped load on travoises. No one had a horse, so they dragged the travoises themselves.
The dead she left to the ravens.
Maybe Nameforgot cursed them as they left, if he was still alive. Maybe he told them they were doomed without him. Maybe he was dead, and part of the ravens’ feast, or maybe he’s still out there, still making his mistakes. I can’t say.
Maybe some of the North Clan stayed with him and the gods he couldn’t feed. I can’t say what happened to them either—but it can’t have been good.
But those of us who left were no longer Nameforgot’s people, and all his dooms passed us by.