Breakaway: Clan of the Ice Mountains Read Online Free PDF Page B

pleading look on her face. He knew she wanted him to convince his father not to take his place in the front, not to expose himself to further ridicule by his brother. She was asking the impossible.
    What am I supposed to do? He shrugged at her in reply.
    Yural seemed to sink into herself at his response, becoming lost in the thick parka she wore, with its tiny bone decorations dangling from sinew strings, its message stones, and its long fur ruff. His mother’s face had aged since his father’s accident; fine lines crossed her forehead now that even sleep did not erase.
    Checking to see his father was still turned away from them, Attu held up one hand, placing it on his forehead, signaling to her that he would think of something. His mother understood, and she pulled herself up, pushed her dark braids laced with new grey more securely into her hood, and began bustling about the piles of belongings.
    Yural pulled a wide nuknuk carry strap from a pouch in one of their bags. She walked over to her man and knelt before him. Ubantu turned toward her, and Attu saw the look that flashed between them. The warmth of their love shone clearly.
    Slipping off Ubantu’s foot mik, Yural skillfully wrapped Ubantu’s lower leg and foot in the stabilizing nuknuk skin. The wrap would allow him to walk on the twisted joint with less pain. She slipped the foot mik back on and rubbed his knee gently.
    Seeing the two of them supporting each other again gave Attu an idea. He approached his father. “May I lead with you, Father?”
    “Are you willing to lead in the way of the true Nuvik, with thoughts of the safety of others always before you and thoughts of your own self left behind for others to determine?”
    Attu looked down, for fear his surprise would show on his face. His father had practically admitted he thought his brother a poor example of a Nuvik male.
    “Attu?” His father spoke as he held up a hand to gain Attu’s full attention again.
    “Yes?”
    “I would be honored to have my son lead with me,” Ubantu said. “I will inform Moolnik.”
    His father rose slowly, and only slightly favoring his crippled leg, he walked straight-backed to where his brother was sitting with a group of hunters.
    ––––––––
    T he sun was about to touch the horizon when Ubantu, with Attu on his right and Kinak on his left, decided to end the journey for the day. They’d taken one more break, much needed by the women and children, and as far as Attu could figure, had covered about half the distance Moolnik had forced them to travel earlier. The smaller children were being carried now, and the other youngsters were barely putting one foot in front of the other.
    Ubantu motioned for the clan to stop. Moolnik ordered them to set up camp. People began to chatter as packs were flung down, and women began pulling out the necessary supplies to set up skin tents for the long night ahead.
    Attu, still off to the side, was about to begin walking back to help set up camp when suddenly a groan like a woman about to give birth rose up from the ice in front of him.
    “Run!” he screamed, and waving his arms, he ran back toward the group. “Run!” he yelled again and began flailing his spear in the air to draw attention to himself.
    Ubantu saw his son and in one fluid motion, reached out with his right hand to grab Meavu and his left to grab the most important pack, the one containing their food and nuknuk fat lamp. Attu heard him cry, “Yural, this way,” and his mother launched herself after her man, grabbing up the remaining pack, a roll of skins for tent-making wrapped around furs for sleeping. The others, seeing Ubantu running as if he had two strong legs, his woman following on his heels, grabbed up their packs and ran also.
    Behind him, Attu heard a large crack spreading. From the direction of the sound, he could tell it was moving out from his left to his right, which meant they had a chance. It was not going to open along the