First Ascent

Chapter 9 — The First Ascent

Morning in the Ravens’ settlement did not begin with the familiar whistle of the mechanism. This time, people were woken by hammer blows, the creak of wood, the shouts of workers, and the rumble of stones being dragged.

Michael woke early. Strangely, for the first time in a long while, he did not feel broken, but full of strength. Thoughts were already circling in his head about the coming day, the construction, the fields, and where to even begin with all this chaos. Only after sitting down at the table and finishing breakfast did he suddenly realize that Sam was not nearby. In fact, he was not in the house at all.

— Where is Sam? — Michael asked, already pulling on his boots.

Catherine, sitting opposite him, looked as if she had been waiting for that question.

— Finally noticed. I kept wondering when it would reach you. He got up before everyone and ran off to Sarah.

Michael involuntarily smirked.

— He certainly has no shortage of curiosity. Still a child.

He stood, quickly kissed Catherine, and was already about to leave when his gaze caught on a large reddish apple lying on the table. The fruit looked so juicy that Michael automatically reached for it, but immediately got a smack across the hand with a cloth.

— Don’t even think about it. That’s for Sam.

— Come on.

— You already devoured so much yesterday, like you came from a starving land.

Michael snorted and looked at the fruit more carefully.

— You think he can have Akalu?

— He can. All children eat it, and no one has fallen asleep while running yet. The main thing is not to chew the core.

Catherine smirked, poked a finger into his beard, and narrowed her eyes.

— And you’d better do something about this.

— You don’t like it?

— I really don’t. If you keep scratching me with it, I’ll stop kissing you.

And before he could answer, Catherine, with a sly smile, pinched his backside and pushed him out the door.

Michael only smirked. After a farewell like that, his desire to stay home became even stronger.

— That’s enough, go already, — Catherine’s voice came from inside. — Take care of yourself. And keep an eye on Sam. I’ll be waiting for lunch.

Michael sighed heavily, but still headed toward the noisy construction site.

— I wonder what they’re already hammering so early… — he muttered, scratching his beard out of habit.

His hand froze.

First Sarah. Now Catherine.

It seemed something really had to be decided about the beard.

— I should stop by the old man’s. Shave while I’m at it.

Stepping out onto the bridge, Michael stopped. The settlement had long since awakened. The Ravens’ workers, as always, had risen with the first rays of the sun.

The stream that split the settlement in two was never empty. In the icy, fast water, pressed down to the stone bottom by heavy boulders, thick gray hides soaked. The water washed blood and salt from them, softening them before drying and working.

The wind blew.

Michael immediately grimaced and covered his nose with his palm.

— Ugh… That stench doesn’t reach here often.

He lifted his head. On the upper tiers of the settlement, closer to the cliff, thick steam poured from the rendering sheds. There, in large copper vats, fresh fat cut from prey was being melted down. It was carefully poured into round-bellied clay jugs and sealed with wax. Among the Ravens, fat was valued no less than a good hide — they soaked shoes with it against dampness, greased wagons, protected wood, and traded it with other settlements for needed goods.

Michael descended from the bridge and headed toward the house near the slope. His old friend was already sitting on the bench by the wall, lazily warming himself in the morning sun.

— Hey, old man, why are you lying around? No clients?

The barber opened one eye, measured him with a look, and smirked.

— Oh, Michael. What clients at this hour? Look at yourself. Walking around all overgrown.

Michael again automatically reached for his beard.

— That’s exactly why I need you.

— Well then, come in. Price as usual — two green Lagerents. You’ll shine afterward like a plucked raven.

Michael snorted loudly and went inside after his friend.

The room was simple, but clean. A wooden chair, a basin of water, blades, cloths, and the familiar smell of soap with herbs.

— So tell me, where were you dragged around so long that you managed to turn into a forest hermit?

Michael sat heavily in the chair.

— In short — I nearly died.

— Then don’t make it short.

Michael laughed and, while the barber dampened a towel with hot water, told him about the hard road to Green Grass, the swamps, the way back, and how he had almost remained there forever.

When he came out fully shaved, he seemed younger to himself by several years.

After climbing higher through the settlement toward the old part of the gorge, Michael stopped.

Before him, in a wide rocky pocket, a real construction site was boiling.

Sarah’s people patched roofs, dragged out old junk, and reinforced walls. Meanwhile, the Ravens were working around a long-abandoned wooden lift.

Two thick wooden supports, darkened with age, rose along the cliff, connected by crossbeams and a system of heavy ropes. Between them hung a freight platform — a wide wooden deck with one side partly torn away, crooked and stuck halfway. Only the old counterweight — a huge net filled with stones — still held it in the air, slowly rocking in the wind. Somewhere above, wooden pulleys creaked, and the ropes looked as if a little more would make them snap.

Someone carried boards, someone removed old beams, someone cursed while trying to move the jammed mechanism.

Under a canopy, Sarah stood, speaking animatedly with some carpenter.

Michael came closer.

Sarah noticed him too late and even flinched slightly.

— Unexpected. I didn’t think you’d come this early… And look at you.

She did not finish, but the compliment was clear.

Michael smirked with satisfaction.

But Sarah almost immediately returned to business.

— Michael, I think you all dumped everything on me far too comfortably. Everything here is falling apart. Houses, the forge, tools… and the lift?

She jabbed a finger toward the wooden structure.

— We started hauling soil from the forest while the stonework for the fields is being prepared, and immediately ran into this. The narrow path is useless for wagons. And the lift is dead.

— There was no one to repair it, — Michael coughed awkwardly. — All the good carpenters moved to the Creek settlement after leaving Deep Forest.

Sarah looked at him without much impression.

— And you couldn’t send for a couple of masters? Your people have been carrying everything on their backs since morning like pack animals.

Michael actually felt awkward. Out of habit, he wanted to scratch his beard.

His hand automatically jerked toward it, but stopped halfway. He had clearly decided to shave for a reason. Sarah noticed, slid her gaze over him, and even smiled almost imperceptibly, but immediately returned to business.

— I already found a carpenter. He explained what is needed for the repair. I sent Sam with Pavel to get fat for treating the wood. And why are you standing there? Even Sam is showing more activity than you.

Michael snorted.

— And what about me? I’m a hunter and a trader. My job is to help, not plow fields myself.

Sarah immediately turned sharply to him.

— Then trade me tools for work. Seeds. Proper ones. Not one potato for the whole settlement.

Michael sighed, realizing there was no point arguing.

— The Wolves will bring part of the goods soon. What’s missing, I’ll take glass myself and trade for it. For now, I can give you people for guard duty beyond the walls if you’ll be hauling soil.

Sarah softened slightly.

— That is help, at least.

After that, she returned to her conversation with the carpenter.

At that moment, Olivia came up to Michael. It was obvious she had woken only recently — her hair was not fully gathered yet, her gaze was sleepy, and she herself seemed not quite awake. But Michael noticed something else at once.

— Morning, Oli. Where’s the feather?

Olivia automatically touched her neck.

— At home. Why carry it around for nothing? I don’t want to damage it.

Michael frowned and stepped closer.

— Damage it? Oli, that’s not a decoration.

She looked away.

— I know…

Michael’s voice softened.

— No, you don’t.

— Not everyone in the settlement passes the trial at all. And only a few receive the first feather at your age.

He leaned a little closer.

— And for surviving in the swamps, no less. Even if under watch.

Olivia raised her eyes.

— But still…

Michael shook his head.

— Things like that aren’t hidden. You take pride in them.

Olivia said nothing, but for the first time that morning, something like a warm smile appeared on her face.

— Michael! Looking good! — Pavel’s voice came from above.

He was coming down the mountain slope, holding onto the wooden railing, while Sam was already rushing ahead of him with a small jug of rendered fat in his hands.

Running up to Michael, completely out of breath, Sam first froze, not recognizing him without the beard right away.

— Michael?!

A second later, his face lit up with joy.

— Michael, hello! Olivia, hello!

And with the same energy, he immediately flew toward Sarah, holding out the jug.

— Here! We brought it!

— Put it down and wait, — Sarah answered, not even turning away from the carpenter.

Sam carefully set the fat down, but could not stand still calmly and almost immediately returned to Michael.

Now he spoke much more freely and was far less shy than before.

— This morning Sarah and I were up there! Hides were hanging in the wind! Huge ones! They were doing this! Whoooosh!

He waved his arms, showing how the wind shook the stretched hides.

— Like sails on yachts!

Michael narrowed his eyes.

— Yachts? And what is that supposed to be? Maybe ships?

Sam nodded eagerly.

— Yes! Ships! Only fast! Whoosh!

He waved his arms so emotionally that even Olivia could not hold back and laughed.

Michael looked at him warmly.

— Hungry?

— Nope.

By this time Pavel finally came down.

It was clear he had been running fast, but he was trying with all his might to show that he was not tired at all. He straightened, set down his jug, walked over to Olivia, and deliberately bumped her lightly with his hip.

— What are you laughing at?

Olivia looked at his important face and laughed for real this time — lightly and contagiously.

At first Pavel did not understand what was happening at all and automatically looked himself over, thinking something was wrong with him.

But the more Olivia laughed, the more it pulled the others in.

Michael could not hold back either and burst out laughing.

— Oh, enough, enough! — Olivia squeezed out through laughter, wiping away a tear that had appeared. — Pavel, stop!

He froze there in complete confusion, staring at everyone laughing around him.

— All right, we’ve laughed enough, — Michael finally breathed out. — Let’s let Sarah finish.

Just then, Sarah freed herself and came up from behind.

It was impossible to tell from her face whether she had heard that whole circus or had decided to pretend she had not.

— Sarah, perfect, — Michael quickly pulled himself together. — I wanted to ask, do you still need these two rascals?

Sarah measured him with a look.

— Any help won’t hurt. I thought you were already organizing everything yourself.

She waved toward the path.

— I don’t have time to fuss with you too. I’m going up to help the people. And you organize the guard and the work beyond the walls.

With those words, she picked up the jug of rendered fat Sam had left and went heavily upward, catching up to the carpenter.

Michael automatically followed her with his gaze.

When Sarah reached the lift, she did not even slow down.

Near the crooked platform, several Ravens were sitting right on the logs, clearly watching the work more than helping.

— So I’m breaking my back here for you, and you decided to sit and rest?! — her voice rang through the entire rocky pocket.

One of the men reluctantly lifted his head.

— We’re waiting…

Sarah immediately shoved the jug into the carpenter’s hands.

— Here’s the fat. Show them what to grease.

Then she turned back to the workers.

— They’re waiting. And if the lift breaks loose, will you sit and watch that too?

The Ravens reluctantly began to rise, grumbling unhappily as they took up the tools.

Michael shook his head.

— Yeah… never boring with that one.

Somewhere above, her voice sounded again, forcing the lazy workers to move.

He turned his gaze to the youngsters.

— Well, that’s perfect. Olivia, Pavel — run home for your bows and arrows. I’ll be waiting by the gates. Don’t drag it out.

Then he looked at Sam and gestured to his own neck, hinting at Olivia’s feather.

Pavel noticed it immediately.

— And what does that mean?

Perking up, he turned to Olivia.

She only rolled her eyes.

— I’ll tell you later.

— Well, let’s go too, Sam.

After waiting for him, Michael headed downward, toward the large warehouse building on the lower tier of the settlement. That was where free hunters most often gathered — some looking for work, some arranging outings, and some simply coming to trade goods or news.

Michael stopped at the entrance, looked over those gathered, and shouted loudly:

— For three green Lagerents, I need people to help the Green Grass settlement!

In response, unhappy grumbling immediately spilled out.

— What are we now, farmers?

— Hauling stones and digging soil? That’s no hunter’s work.

A familiar hunter stepped out of the crowd, smirked, and threw loudly enough for the others to hear:

— Michael, you know how it is. We don’t run through the forests with bows for that. Scratching in the dirt isn’t our thing.

From behind him, others immediately picked it up:

— And we’d like to rest. We only just came home.

— They’re already living on our stores as it is.

At first, Michael listened silently. Then he stepped forward.

— On your stores? When your families were sick, no one complained that the people of Green Grass suddenly became healers and spent their own herbs on us.

The crowd fell quiet.

— Or are you planning to eat nothing but dried meat and fat all winter again until your bellies twist? Somehow, I didn’t see a line of volunteers willing to go through the swamps for herbs themselves.

Someone muttered unhappily, but Michael was already wound up.

— No one is calling you to plow the earth. Hunters are needed — to guard people by the forest while they work. Or are you suggesting the women meet beasts with bows themselves?

Several people looked away.

— And three Lagerents are too little for you? Considering later you’ll eat what they grow.

Someone in the crowd snorted:

— You’re defending them a bit too much, Michael. Maybe you should move to Green Grass yourself?

Everything around grew quieter at once.

Michael slowly turned his head toward the voice.

— If not for them, your wife would have been eating herbs in the next world last winter.

After those words, no one wanted to argue anymore.

One of the onlookers sighed heavily.

— Guarding, we can do.

— As long as there’s no plowing.

— I’ll go too.

The discontent quickly faded.

All this time, Sam stood silently behind Michael’s back, carefully shifting his gaze from one face to another, as if absorbing every word.

— Then I’ll be waiting for all volunteers at the fields. And don’t come empty-handed. No drinking. Out there, you answer not only for your own hide.

There was nothing more to say.

Michael clapped Sam on the shoulder, letting him know it was time, gave the crowd one last look, noting who had finally stirred and begun to gather, and headed with him toward the gates.

The whole way, he tried to ease the remaining tension with conversation.

— And what would you like to do? — he suddenly asked. — You see for yourself, everyone here lives by something. Hunters, traders, farmers… Maybe you’ll learn hunting with me?

Sam immediately grimaced.

— That means killing little animals? Nooo. I feel sorry for them. They’re cute.

Michael smirked.

— Even a Tumarg?

Sam thought about it.

— Well… not all of them.

They walked several steps in silence.

— I don’t know, — Sam admitted honestly, now more seriously. — I want to go everywhere. See everything. Learn everything.

Michael again automatically reached for his beard and stopped halfway.

The habit remained.

— Well, that’s good. But if you want to go on outings, you need to be able to stand up for yourself.

Sam immediately looked at him.

— Yeah. Like you just now, when the uncles were shouting.

Michael gave a short smirk.

— Well… something like that.

By this time, they had already come out beyond the gates, where Olivia and Pavel were waiting with bows over their shoulders.

Michael immediately noticed that both of them had put on their feather pendants, and nodded approvingly.

Sam almost immediately went up to Olivia, unable to take his eyes off her bow.

— May I? — he asked cautiously, almost shyly.

Olivia first looked at Michael, noticed his pleased face, snorted, and held out the bow.

— Fine, take it. Just don’t break it.

Pleased, Sam spent the whole way to the fields examining the weapon, awkwardly drawing the bowstring, pretending to shoot into the air, and quietly making the sound to himself:

— Fwooh.

Pavel burst out laughing, while Olivia kept glancing sideways at him the entire way, clearly fearing more for her bow than for anything else.

When they reached the fields, work was already in full swing.

The soil here turned out to be far less welcoming than it had looked from a distance — hard, stony in places, with roots sticking out, and the forest pressing too close along the edges.

Sarah’s people loaded fresh earth onto carts, leveled plots, and carried stones for future retaining walls.

There were not enough horses in the settlement, so only empty wagons stood by the field. Once loaded, each was rolled out to the road in turn, where a horse was harnessed to it and sent upward, while the next empty one was brought back.

Sam immediately returned Olivia’s bow carefully, as if it were the most precious thing in the world, and without waiting for anything, ran to help load soil.

Michael smirked.

— Well then, show me what you learned while I was gone.

He ruffled Olivia’s hair so she would stop inspecting the bow for damage so critically.

Olivia took up her weapon first.

She drew the bowstring and was already about to shoot somewhere between the trees, but Michael lowered her bow with his hand.

— Nooo, that won’t do. Where are you shooting? At Udgal?

He stepped aside, tore off a broad burdock leaf, took out his knife, walked about seventy Castsdeeper in, and fixed the leaf to a tree trunk.

Returning, he nodded with satisfaction.

— Now shoot.

Olivia did not aim for long.

A whistle.

The first arrow went straight into the leaf.

Then another.

And another.

Michael even clapped.

— Now that’s many times better than before.

Olivia went to collect the arrows with satisfaction, returned, and sat down by a tree, clearly pleased with herself.

Pavel, of course, decided not to fall behind.

If Olivia shot calmly and accurately, he immediately began showing off.

He sent arrows not straight, but in a high arc, calculating the curve of their flight, and to Michael’s surprise, he hit as well.

He had not expected such progress.

But then he remembered whose grandson Pavel was.

Neira had always been strict about discipline.

Though Pavel himself looked not at the target nearly as often as at Olivia, checking whether she noticed his efforts.

Meanwhile, Olivia, sitting by the tree, was already watching the forest and Sam more than anything else.

And that surprised her most of all.

This strange boy had been hauling soil with the adults with such energy since morning, running under the sun, not whining, not complaining, and even somehow explaining to the workers that earthworms should not be thrown out of the soil — they helped the ground.

After the practice, Michael praised them both, but quickly reminded them why they were actually here.

— Pavel, collect your arrows. I can see Neira trained you well. You shoot decently. Now go and inspect the forest from the other side of the field.

When the first wagon was almost loaded, Michael rolled up his sleeves himself, helped push the heavy cart out of the loose soil onto the road, where it was already being harnessed to the recently brought horse, then unhitched the empty wagon and, without saying a word, went to help Sam load soil.

The sidelong looks of the Green Grass people, who had recently been watching their shooting like a children’s game, softened noticeably.

Michael had just picked up another basket of soil when a shout came from the road beyond the stream:

— Gates! Wagons!

One of the hunters posted as a guard near the forest was already waving his arms.

Work in the field almost immediately froze.

Pavel was the first to lift his head.

— Wolves?

Michael straightened, wiping sweat from his forehead, and narrowed his eyes toward the road.

In the distance, silhouettes of wagons were already moving between the trees.

He snorted.

— Looks like… we won’t be eating only meat this winter after all.

End of the Chapter.