Illiterate tribesmen, diverse in both language and traditions, the barbarians of the north remain a shadowy people in the eyes of civilized Minarians. Obviously they descend from survivors of the great Cataclysm, perhaps mixed with the primitives who had always dwelt on the fringes of the Lloroi Empire. Of the Cataclysm itself, various oral traditions are preserved. One of the clearest references derives from the legends of the Bakula tribe of Blown Over:
"In very ancient times, the four posts at the compass points were broken down, the twelve provinces of the habitable world were split apart, the skies did not completely cover the land, and the land did not completely support the sky. Fires flamed without being extinguished, waters inundated without being contained, fierce beasts ate the people, and birds of prey seized the old and weak in their claws."
But fabulous mythology of this kind makes for flawed historiography. Only occasionally do the written records of the civilized kingdoms provide useful information on the life and deeds of the early barbarian peoples. Aside from laments for their rapine and the names of a few warchiefs, scholars are left to draw their facts from modern geographers and traders who sometimes dare the suspicion of the northerners.
Unlike civilized men, nearly every barbarian under forty years of age is a fighter??a fact that allows a modest population to field as many warriors as a much larger, settled country. The barbarian's favorite weapon is a spear with a short and narrow head, which is so sharp and easy to handle that the same weapon serves for both close and distant fighting. Each man goes to battle carrying several spears to shower upon the enemy??and the lightly?clad spearman can hurl it a great distance. The barbarian's shield is carefully decorated in bright colors. To throw away one's shield is the supreme disgrace; the cowardly wretch is disbarred from sacrifice and council. Men have often lost their shields and survived battle, only to end their shame by hanging themselves.
In peace, the barbarian's wealth derives from his herds of reindeer, snow oxen and forest ponies. Men who lust after wealth often go on livestock raids??a custom that provokes frequent wars and feuds.
The more remote tribes still erect wattle and daub structures with high?pitched thatched roofs. But those with access to bronze or iron tools and nails prefer solidly built log houses. Some of the most important villages are surrounded by formidable stockades.,
Socially, many of the northern tribes are matrilineal or matriarchal, with a heightened social position for women. Women, in fact, dominate the ritual life in many regions. The barbarians tend to value emotion for its own sake and seek ecstatic states in which the individual feels himself to be possessed by, and in some cases united with, the deity. The tribes are profoundly impressed by those crises of human existence which arouse the emotions the most (conception, birth and death) and build their religion and myths around these. The Earth Mother's rites are conducted by priestesses who become possessed and give oracles as a regular part of the ritual.
Besides this, there is a worship of the powers of night and darkness, which are the embodiment of man' s fear of death and the unknown.
Many are the heroes remembered in the old songs??the barbarians' sole
means of recording history??but the most renowned living hero is Juulute
Wolfheart, grandson of Vimar Stoneslinger. The tales told of his birth
and growth fit a tradition of barbarian hero?myths, and civilized men might
dismiss them as tall tales. However, this is what the barbarians believe
about their proudest son:
The Origin of Juulute Wolfheart
A full two generations ago, the reindeer priests observed a sign in the
stars, the planet of Rule transiting the province of War. They appealed
to the chiefs of all the tribes to cease from enmity and gather at the
Sacred Stones??those megalithic monuments raised by barbarous hands. They
took the omens and acclaimed Sagaradu Black Hammer as Great Chief of all
the northland.
Sagaradu led his hordes against Golbin Land??a long, sanguinary conflict
that ended in his death and the repulse of his people. The Goblin way of
life was profoundly changed by the near?defeat, and out of the ruins rose
the Goblin state of Zorn.
Sagaradu's son, Gomaku, already a grown man with children, succeeded to
his original, local chieftainship. As one of the Great Chief' s blood,
he remained highly honored, as was his successor and son, Vimar.
Vimar's wise rule gave prosperity to the Markarakati tribe, but privately
the chief was troubled that his beloved wife, Tamalika, had borne
no offspring that lived longer than a few days. Friends urged him to set
her aside, or at least take additional women to wife, but Vimar refused
to dishonor the woman he treasured.
One day, while hunting alone, Vimar was lured into a strange section of
the forest by an eerie warble. He followed it until the woods cleared at
the edge of a crystal spring. Then the sound resolved into a sweet, lilting
song and Vimar spied the singer bathing in the water. It was a nude girl
of unsurpassed beauty; Vimar stood stunned at the sight of her.
Suddenly, strong hands seized him from behind and eunuch slaves disarmed
him before he could react. The girl seized a robe and approached him angrily.
Raging at the captive, she demanded that he undo the insult he had inflicted
by marrying her??or accept death in payment. Vimar explained that he had
meant no harm. He would die if he must, but already had a fine wife and
could not take another in good conscience.
"I am gratified by your brave answer," said the maid, whose robes now became
as radiant as her own person. The slaves vanished and Vimar stood in the
glade alone with her. "I am Lohaja, queen of the guardian spirits of the
Markarakati. You are an honorable man and have met the test I laid out
for you. Name your heart's desire and it shall be yours."
Vimar replied that, more than all else, he desired that the child Tamalika
now carried would live long years and become a warrior whose fame would
outlive his own. Lohaja smiled kindly and said: "You shall have more than
you ask."
Tamalika had a daughter, born strong and healthy. Vimar named her Karnada
and, as she thrived, he little regretted being denied a son. And as Karnada
grew, she achieved a strange fame: She scorned the domestic arts, followed
the hunt and practiced with the spear. She excelled over all other maids
in grace and beauty, but throughout her childhood and adolescence, she
could defeat all the males her own age. Her father Vimar marveled; his
child was the most promising of warriors, even as he had requested of the
guardian spirit.
But as Karnada reached her eighteenth year, Vimar asked her to accept an
alliance with one of the suitors that sought her hand. It was unheard of
for a woman to spurn husband and family, but at first Karnada refused to
wed. Finally, in the face of Vimar's cajoling and her love for her father,
Karnada agreed to marry the first man who bested her in the warrior's arts.
Her challenge brought many eager suitors, but whether in trial of the bow,
the foot race or the wrestle, Karnada defeated her opponents and remained
unmarried. Her victories, which had once given Vimar great pride, now saddened
him. Karnada, troubled by his mood, one day said: "I cannot call husband
one I cannot respect. Yet, for your sake I will happily wed, if Lohaja
should send a good and great man."
Then came to the village of Vimar one named Isvaru, a tall, ruddy man of
mighty limbs. He made challenge to Karnada and claimed to be a Markarakati,
though none knew his features or name. Karnada was impressed by the beauty
of the stranger and agreed to wrestle him??if only that he might not so
soon depart.
After hospitality, man and maid fought??but so handsome was Isvaru, so
noble his carriage and so musical his voice, that Karnada thought on these
things instead of her holds and blows. Five times Isvaru threw her down
and five times she rose, but upon the sixth she remained on the ground,
saying: "I yield me; I can fight no more!"
The Markarakati, at first stunned at their heroine's defeat, suddenly burst
into the joyous song of the nuptials. The union was soon sanctioned and
Isvaru carried his bride to the wedding house.
But Karnada woke up alone. None had seen Isvaru go, though some said a
great wolf had been spotted fleeing the precincts of the village an hour
before sunrise. Karnada was inconsolate at the loss of her lover and remained
in seclusion.
Then treachery struck. Mahalay, one of Karnada's defeated suitors, attacked
in the night, murdering Vimar, his wife and the faithful friends around
him. Mahalay intended to force Karnada to marry him to reinforce the chieftainship
he had seized by violence.
A young slave girl carried the grave news to Karnada. The girl admitted
an amazing secret: "I am no mortal," she said, "but Lohaja, who loves you
much. Neither was Isvaru as other men, but a prince of spirits, the Lord
of the Wolves. You even now carry his son in your body??a son Mahalay will
slay in jealous fear, if you do not heed my advice."
Karnada, grief?stricken, agreed to do as she was told. Lohaja touched her
and their forms were exchanged, Karnada disguised as a bondmaid, Lohaja
as the chieftain's daughter. When warriors came for Karnada, they took
Lohaja instead. So, unknowingly, Mahalay wedded a spirit bride, who became
pregnant almost at once. Mahalay was pleased, for a descendant of Vimar's
line would strengthen his own family's honor. But his bride miraculously
came to full term in only three months and bore a son. Afterwards, Lohaja
did not long remain in Mahalay's house, but vanished whenever the others
slept.
The spirit's child was a strange creature. As its nurses watched, it grew
darker and larger, sprouting wings and huge teeth. Finally it burst from
its crib and slew all that approached it. To the astonishment of the villagers,
it wreaked great destruction and flapped into the wilderness.
Meanwhile, the disguised Karnada dwelled as one of the village bondmaids.
She could not avenge Vimar's death herself, for her fighting prowess had
vanished the day Isvaru conquered her. She wisely concealed her identity,
lest it endanger the son she was soon to bear. She named the boy Juulute,
which meant "Avenger. " As he grew, admired for his strength, Karnada realized
her spirit?given gifts had been passed to her son.
Believed to be slave?born, Juulute was not formally instructed in arms.
Most lads his age respected him, but a few hated him for the ease in which
he bested them in their petulant bouts and the way the elders praised him
for vanquishing the predators that attacked the herds.
His special enemies were the insolent sons of Mahalay. One night they rushed
upon him in a group and carried him south, where an Immerite trader was
buying slaves. The merchant was pleased to acquire so fine a specimen.
Juulute's later purchasers found him too rebellious for domestic work,
so he was sold into service at the rock quarries near Lone Wirzor. His
muscles hardened like iron and his strength was the marvel of his masters.
But Juulute did not long remain in so base a bondage. He exhorted the other
laborers to bid for freedom, managed a successful riot and led them in
escape into the depths of Wild Wood.
For the next few years, Juulute moved from one mercenary band to another,
learning a mastery of arms and having a thousand daring adventures. By
the time he was twenty, he had risen to command a mercenary band, the Purple
Halberds, and he led them to such astonishing success that his band was
eagerly hired by civilized kings.
Warring on the borders of Pon, Juulute entered into a disastrous liaison
with the Muetarian lady Yrini, ostensibly a virgin, but of a wanton heart.
When spies discovered them together in the lady's bower, the faithless
wench??to save her false honor??made lying accusations against the mercenary
captain. Yrini's vengeful father seized him, had him flogged, then nailed
him to an oak tree for food for the wild beasts and the birds of prey.
Of this ordeal, the skalds sing:
I know that I hung
on the windswept tree
For five full
nights, wounded with the spike
And given to
the beasts??given to the beasts
On that tree
of which none know from what roots it rises
They did not
comfort me with bread and not with the drinking horn
Thirsting, I
peered downward and glimpsed the wolves
Thirsting, I
glimpsed them and read their soul .....
As Juulute beheld the wolves, he observed one stand erect and cast off
his hide like a cloak. The wolf became a young man, ruddy and strong of
build. "I am your father, Isvaru," he said, "and I am right pleased with
you!"
Isvaru reached for his son's chains and broke them asunder. Then the Lord
of the Wolves healed Juulute's wounds and told him the true story of his
identity and his mother's. Finally he gave the young mercenary a vial:
"Contained herein is the blood of a wolf s heart. Pour it into your wounds
when you fight your most desperate battle." With that, the Lord of the
Wolves loped off into the woods in his beastly form.
The revelation of his ancestry inspired Juulute to make with all speed
for the Wild Reaches and the territory of the Markarakati. He found a devastated
land, its people reduced to poverty.
Lohaja's monstrous child had returned from the northern glaciers and fallen
upon the herds and villages of the barbarians. Upon nearing his home village,
Juulute learned that all of Mahalay's wicked sons had perished in quest
of the monster. The aged Mahalay was offering his inheritance and daughter
to the man who could slay the marauder.
His heart welling with hate for the usurper, Juulute concealed his identity
and allowed himself to speak assuring words to the villain, promising to
vanquish the creature. But a childhood rival of Juulute whispered into
Mahalay' s ear that here stood the bondsman Juulute. Mahalay thundered:
"Shall a slave boast he may do what my hero sons could not?!"
A council member stood up, one Juulute recognized as Durvas??a good and
wise man who had been lamed since childhood. He said: "I remember this
youth. Since he fled this village, I have freed his mother and taken her
to wife. As a child's status derives from his mother's, he is a freeman
now??fit to stand beside the worthiest of the Markarakati." With the speaking
of these words, not even Mahalay could gainsay Juulute.
The young warrior followed the beast's trail of ruin and encountered it
beside a lake. Man and monster struggled mightily and Juulute took many
grievous wounds. When his strength was nearly gone, he broke away and smeared
the magical blood of the wolf s heart into his veins. He was instantly
possessed of the power of a hundred men, and launched himself at the creature,
seizing its neck in his arms and snapping it with a titanic wrench. Then,
wearily, he dragged himself home to the village of Mahalay.
Too jealous of Juulute's success to appreciate it, Mahalay ridiculed the
young man's claim and said he would send men to look for the monster's
carcass, to prove him a liar. Secretly he hoped to assassinate the hero
before they returned. Juulute saw through the man's trick and addressed
the assembly to reveal his true descent.
"Liar!" shouted Mahalay. "Bring me the slave's mother, for she still lives,
and his claim will stand refuted before the assembly."
So Mahalay's friends seized Karnada, who for years had worn a transformed
shape, and brought her before the elders. But, incredibly, as the throng
watched, her disguise faded and Karnada stood before them as she had been
years earlier??indeed, as young and fair as the night of her metamorphosis.
Astonished, Mahalay's wicked heart burst and he fell dead out of his chair,
judged by the gods.
The tribesmen wished to acclaim Juulute??whom they now called "Wolfheart"??chief
over them. But the young man refused; he had tasted the color and excitement
of the south and would return to it now that his honor was vindicated.
But first, Juulute saw that his mother's inheritance was restored and won
assurances that the mate she chose would rule the Markarakati. Dutifully,
Karnada's husband, Durvas, offered to release her so that she might have
a worthier mate, but Karnacia would have none of it. Durvas had demonstrated
his wisdom and strength of character many times. Moreover, he had been
a kind and loving mate to her. She had matured beyond worshiping strength
alone and could imagine no greater chief for the Markarakati.
Although Juulute Wolfheart spends much of his time in the south as a mercenary
general for kings, the barbarians know him well and their respect for him
crosses tribal borders. Thousands of fighters would follow him to war at
a word; thousands more hope that the gods might demand a new Great Chief
soon, for surely no worthier man than Juulute Wolfheart lives in their
generation.