The Mantooth by Christopher Leadem
Then she made a canopy of the projecting altar above his bed, stitchingtogether a patchwork of smaller skins to hang down from it. She alsoheated stones beside the fire, and placed them by his side when heslept.
But perhaps the wisest and most beneficial thing she did for him inthose days, beside not giving up herself, was to read to him. Itoccurred to her that one of the things that made his life so difficultwas the fact that his deepest thoughts remained isolated: he didn'tknow that other men felt the same emptiness, and confronted the sameunspoken fears. So she dug into the long, enclosed bookshelf that layhalf buried in a corner of the treasure room, until she found works offiction and philosophy which seemed appropriate. She then read to himfragments of each, asking which he preferred.
He was cold to the idea at first, not understanding, and expressed nopreference. But she noticed that his eyes became puzzled and alert atthe first chapter of 'For Whom the Bell Tolls,' and that he seemedto want to ask questions, but did not.
So she read him several chapters each day, until at last he began toopen up, and to ask her. Had men really lived that way? Why did RobertJordan not take the woman he loved far away from the war? And was itreally possible to feel the earth move beneath them when they made love?
And slowly, as always, quietly, the profound pain and beauty of trueliterature began to work its haunting and healing magic upon him. Histhought no longer bounded by the physical reality around him, he foundin books a way to escape and look beyond himself, into worlds he hadnever dreamed of, and to empathize with struggles and disillusioning hehad imagined did not exist outside himself. Simply put, he becameconnected to the souls, singular and collective, of humanity.
And to know the woman held all these things in her mind and in herheart, put him almost in awe of her. And in truth, she herself receivedmore from the living pages than she had ever done before. Now that herown life had become so real, she discovered (probably something sheknew, deep down) that the truly great writers did not exaggerate theintensity of human drama, or the power of their own emotions, but onlyspoke honestly and without dilution of the worlds that they had known.Dickens especially she loved, because he made her feel the joys andterrors of children, who from the outset of life had experienced sorrowand loss, when her own childhood had been so safe and full, the death ofher mother notwithstanding. And she, too, began to see Kalusdifferently, and to understand some measure of the invisible pain hefelt.
At times it was almost too much, for both of them, to look at life soclosely in the midst of danger, and he would ask her to stop, or shewould set down the book she read silently to herself. Such was thepower of those days. With the intensity of Nature's relentlessbackdrop, emotions were tested like ship's rigging in a gale. Andboth knew, despite the woman's stubborn optimism, that it would takemore than all their courage for the ship to still float brokenly at themorning of calm sea's return.
Invaluable time was passing, and Kalus' illness refused to heal. Hisbody had been pushed beyond its limits, and a virus for which he had nodefense (for it was carried by the girl) had entrenched itself in hislungs and intestines, spreading pain and chill weakness throughout. Anunfair battle had been joined inside him, one in which will alone wasnot enough.
The man-child's hand was forced, and all power to choose taken fromhim. He must learn patience in the face of starvation.
Chapter 22
Two weeks passed, following much the same pattern: Kalus trying to fightback against sickness and despair, his inner fire burning ever lower, acontinuing downward spiral. And the girl, trying to hold on to hopeenough for both of them. But despite the books and her new-foundcourage, she too began to feel numbed by the incessant howling ofWinter, that raged like a mindless brute outside their doors, reachingin with deadly fingers at the slightest opportunity. She was puzzledalso by Kalus' inability to recover from what seemed to her a simple,if severe, virus.
But if she was puzzled, Kalus was devastated. His entire existence,from youngest boyhood, had been based around hardihood and the abilityto overcome wound, sickness and depravation. In his world those whocould not do so perished. All the hard lessons he had learned, centeredaround one simple and unalterable necessity: self-reliance. And here hewas, flat on his back, unable to fight or recover, unable to supporteven himself, let alone those he cared for. He was less than useless, adrain on their efforts, on their need to reject him and go on. Neverhad he known such helplessness.
But here the words run out. It was not a single catastrophic event, nora succession of smaller devastations, which led him to his moment ofdestruction, but a lifetime of endless conflict, broken dreams and dark,twisted, hopeless roads. There was nothing left to say or feel. Hesimply could not go on. As Sylviana read to him the last chapter ofHemingway, the futility of life congealed into a single, inescapableblade that no longer hovered at a distance, but stood poised like aneedle above his heart. All was black, and like Kamela before him thevery throbbing of his heart, with its surges of love and hope was thefinal, crushing despair.
He waited until the girl was asleep, then put her knife into the softflesh beneath his ear and began to cut downward, a sinister, sweepingsmile.
But the pain was greater than he imagined, and something yet strongerstayed his hand. It wasn't that he lacked the courage. But if feltso very, very wrong. After all the battles he had fought and thehardships endured, all the times that death had been beaten back. . .tobe his own undoing..... The instinct to survive had been too deeplyingrained. He dropped weeping and bleeding on his face, writhing inunquenchable anguish.
He still might have bled to death, but for the constant miracle thatlived on unnoticed in their midst: the blind desire and yearning ofyouth, embodied in the new and emerging life of the pup. His elbowlanded hard on one of its paws as it slept, and knowing nothing ofhopelessness and death, it simply did what its senses told it to. Itcried out.
Roused by the sound the girl came closer, lifted aside the canopy, andafter a moment of helpless terror, turned Kalus onto his back and withshaking hands worked to stop the bleeding.
*
But the damage had been done. With that last paroxysm of emotion, allfeeling left him. He was not only resigned to death, he believed theprocess had already begun. As the girl watched helplessly, he becamelike a critically abused child, neither eating nor speaking, withoutexpression or sorrow or movement. His spirit was already dead, andwaited only for the body to follow. The girl wept openly on his chest,but the seeds of his heart refused to grow. His tale was over, atragedy.
On the third day he asked for a sip of water, told the girl that heloved her, and asked her to forgive him. She said nothing and he wentto sleep, expecting never to be wakened in this world again.
*
But just as the spirit is not slave to the body, neither does the bodycease to function simply because the will commands it. Though he hadgiven up on life, life had not yet given up on him. Death, if he trulydesired it, wasn't going to be that easy.
Chapter 23
The night was bitter and stark, with hard stars like countlesspin-pricks staring lidless upon the Earth. The world itself was equallysharp, trees frozen, rocks cracking with the cold. But one creature,not yet versed in Night's supremacy, struggled on against the icystillness.
The yearling tiger moved drunkenly forward, at intervals collapsing uponits injured hind leg. Weak from hunger and loss of blood, the dizzinesswas becoming chronic. It lay for a time where it had fallen, lickingthe hard snow and fighting, instinctively, to remain conscious. Thoughborn to withstand the numbing cold there were other dangers, and death,a thing it did not understand but instinctively feared, was not far off.
Somehow it had wandered into a cleft between high walls. Forward orbackward, it could not now recall. It regained its feet and struggledon. All bearing and sense of direction lost, it suddenly found itselfconfronted by a steep incline, rising darkly from the soft blur ofwhite. Too young to know gen
Something unyielding blocked its path, and now it smelled food. Itscratched feebly and let out a mournful growl. Then all sense faded,and if fell into the drifting snow.
*
Sylviana heard a scratching sound at the door, then something thatsounded as if the night itself had been given bitter voice. Akar wasnot with them, and the only image stark enough to penetrate her malaise,and therefore seem real to her, said that it was the wolf, wounded andprobably dying. She went shaking to the door, worked free the bolt, andthrust it open. There she saw something large and unfamiliar, heard(whether in reality or delirium) something akin to a vicious growl: thevoice given teeth. She took a step back, and screamed.
It was perhaps the one sound which could have roused him. Kalus satbolt upright, weak but stable, and called out to her.
'Sylviana!'
He felt the cold wind rushing past. The door was open. She was indanger. He stood with difficulty and made his way towards her, holdingon through the dizziness that sought to rob his will. He stood besideher, leaning heavily against the door-frame, and stared out into thenight. She had regained her rationality, and now looked down upon awounded and half-starved predator.
Pity stirred at last in Kalus' heart, as if a sign had been given andunderstood. There was no time to question, or debate whether his ownlife was worth saving. Here was a creature, young and without guilt,who would die if he did not act.
'Sylviana. Help me carry him in.'
'Are you all right?' She looked hard at him, and he answeredhonestly.
'I'm not the one who matters now. Will you help me?'
She nodded vaguely and together they lifted the tiger as best theycould, bringing it inside. Though fully six feet long, in its ravagedcondition it couldn't have weighed more than two hundred pounds. Butit was limp, lifeless weight, and the best they could manage was to layit just inside the barrier.
'It's all right,' Kalus panted, head down. 'This is a snowtiger. He won't need much more heat than this. It's more themangled leg, and starvation.' He looked across at the woman-child,and perceived for the first time the dismal state into which she herselfhad fallen, a malady of the mind, which had then spread to the body.
He felt ashamed, and frightened, and glad all at once. He was needed,and his desire to live had somehow returned from its shallow grave,embodied in the weakened, but far from dead creature at his feet.
And his own body, he knew from deepest instinct, was not yet ready tosurrender. On the contrary, it had made a small recovery. The two-dayfast and stubborn, death-like sleep had emptied his throbbingintestines, and given his natural defenses time to adapt and regain somemeasure of their innate strength. He was still very sick, but maybenow.....
The words, 'Forgive me,' played upon his lips but had an empty,useless feel. He went to the door, closed it, and though cold andaching he said to her. 'Please don't lose hope. I'm going tomake it all right for us, somehow. Some way. You stood by me thesepast days, and I..... You are a woman. I will earn your trust, andrepay my debt in full. I am yours.'
He embraced her and asked her to lie down in his bed. He then wrappedthe buffalo robe around him, tended the fire, and brought her food andwater. 'Sleep,' he told her. 'In comfort and in peace. Ifeel a little stronger, but I will do nothing foolish. I must tend thetiger's wounds, and if Akar returns with meat, feed us both. Thenyou and I will sleep together. I love you. Be well in your heart.'He shook off all emotions of weakness and sorrow, and set out to do whatmust be done.
Akar returned a short time later. After studying the tiger uncertainly,and looking hard at Kalus, he set down his burden, part of a kill stolenfrom a badger. It was not much to look at, but from it Kalus was ableto carve and cook a pound or two of meat. He divided portions for allthe company, then placed the remainder in a bowl, along with the cookedblood, beside the big cat, still unconscious. He then cleaned, repairedand wrapped its wounds as best he could, laying it more comfortably onthe floor. He knew that in taking it among them, and especially inbinding one of its limbs, he risked confusing and provoking a creaturecapable of doing them great harm. But he had an unspoken faith that itwas not yet old and hard enough to hate without reason, or to see asenemies all those unlike itself.
Not wishing to squander the unexpected turn of his fortunes, or thequiet courage that had risen inside him, he lay down without furtherexposure beside the girl, wrapping the furs thickly around them both.Waking, she said in a soft and pleading voice.
'Don't leave me here. Please don't ever leave me.' Heanswered without words, holding her close and caressing her tear-stainedhair.
Again they had found each other, and Kalus knew that in their bond laythe one real hope of his survival. She made him want to live.
Chapter 24
When the snow tiger woke from its perilous sleep it found cooked meat ina dish beside it, warmth all around it, and the burning ice gone fromits fur. But it also saw strange creatures, an unnatural barrier, andthe calculated stare of a wolf. He tried to lift himself quickly, feltsomething catch at his leg. He was overcome by the same intensedizziness, then yielded against his will to the pull of gravity. He layhelpless on his side, looking at the others with wide-eyed fear anduncertainty.
'No one move,' said Kalus, rising cautiously from his seat besidethe fire. Sylviana took hold of the pup, which had begun to growl andyap, and silenced it as best she could. Akar might have been a stone inbetween, but for the narrowing fire of his eyes.
Kalus moved slowly to the door and opened it. It was cold and blackoutside, but the wind had subsided. He began to move carefully towardsthe tiger. It growled at him and curled its upper lip, but the greathead would not be supported. It lowered to the earth as before.
'It's all right,' said Kalus reassuringly. 'I won't hurtyou.' He took a piece of meat from the bowl, and set it a few inchesfrom its mouth. Then feeling the cold, he moved back to the door andbegan to close it. Again, as he thought it might, the tiger reacted.It felt trapped and closed in. He began to move away, but then thoughtof something else. Going to the opening, he went outside and brought ina piece of crusted snow. This he placed as close to its mouth as hedared, then closed the door and returned to his place beside the fire.
'Snow is the most constant part of its existence,' he explained tothe girl. 'And I think it needs water even more than food.'Together they watched, hoping for the best.
As the man-child hovered about it, the tiger's eyes had followed hisevery movement. Now it turned its senses, heightened by physicalextremity and need, toward the objects placed in front of it.
The big cat hesitated, then reached out its tongue and licked the hardsnow. Again. Then stretching out his neck, he took the blessedsubstance in his teeth and brought it closer. And chewed off a smallpiece.
Kalus smiled quietly, remembering a time not so very long before, whenhe had shared his meat with Akar. And this time there was no one toangrily question his will, or rebuke him for showing compassion. Thisin turn gave him a cautious feeling of pride and independence. Helooked around him, seeming to remember that all of this was now his, andthat if he could but live to see it, the world still held much for him.In that swift moment of emotion, he felt an almost exaggerated desirecoursing through his limbs, as if in compensation for his illness. Histhoughts returned to find the girl watching him, eyes glistening. Shespoke.
'You're thinking that you finally have something to call yourown.'
'YES. How did you know?'
'Because..... I've been waiting since I've known you to seethat look. To see you look at ME. Don't you know what you have?'At that moment the tiger, seeming to revive a little, stretched forwardand rolled one forepaw beneath its head, and with a last
'Yes, Sylviana. I have hope.' As the tiger moved itself weaklyover the bowl and began to eat, he wrapped the fur up around his eyes,overcome.
'I love you,' was all he could manage.
Chapter 25
Sylviana rose the next morning to find Kalus standing in the opendoorway, looking out across the snow. The big cat had somehow gainedits feet, and lumbered toward him uncertainly. She started to warn him,keeping her voice down only with an effort. But when he turned towardsher, his eyes were calm. He took a step back and away from theentrance, and the tiger soon stood in his place. Its gaze moved backand forth between the Wild and the man. Clearly it was not muchrecovered. Unable to maintain the effort, it slid down to an unnaturalsitting position, with the bandaged leg splayed wildly. It let out agrowl of pain, and struggled to rise again. Succeeding only partially,it clawed and clutched its way out into the snow. From there it couldgo no further, and lay where it had fallen, pulling itself to a morenatural position and breathing heavily. Kalus said something in asteady voice, then reentered and closed the door.