As Peter finished his meal of roast meat a horn blew long and mournful from outside the tent. The general rumble of talk and movement stilled before all within the the communal dining tent stood and left. A quietness fell upon them and they did not shove or rush, but instead all made their way outside, though they gave Kituqarup a wide berth.

‘What’s happening?’

‘They mourn the loss of the girl this afternoon.’

‘Cloud.’ Peter said this with a sigh as he remembered the sight of the young woman’s pallid face amongst the snow.

The whole clan gathered in the next few minutes. Peter could not count them all but it looked to be larger than the assemblies he remembered from school.

So at least a thousand. Perhaps twice that.

In the center of the circle had been raised a pyre of wood and brush. As a second blast of the horn sounded a blazing torch lit the dry wood and it crackled to life. The lowing of the gharumal joined the human sounds of mourning while from the rock overhang over a hundred meters away came the yips and cries of the mounts alarmed by the unusual activity.

Peter and Kituqarup edged their way through the crowd. He had seen Walt and Tiz near the front of the crowd. They stared in awe at the rising flame as it crackled and roared into the night sky. The moon would not be far from rising but now the star strewn sky vied with the orange red pyre as it seemed to touch the stars.

On a byre next to the fire lay the wrapped body of Cloud.

‘You found her,’ said Jan as he came close to the cousins.

Peter turned to her and readied to speak but she talked over him.

‘And your fault again,’ Jan said. ‘If you had not dragged us here, if the aliens had not been warned by our arrival, none of this would have happened.’

‘I can’t…’

‘Don’t you see. It’s all because of you. You brought us here, you brought Sarah here. If not for you…’ she choked up.

‘Jan. You can’t think that. I did not want any of this to happen. I’m a victim as much as…’

‘As much as Cloud? She’s dead. As much as Sarah? Robbed of ten years spent here. As much as…’

‘Jan. Enough,’ said Tiz. ‘You’re making a scene.’

Peter rocked back.

She’s got a right to be upset. But she’s spent too much time with Sarah.

Peter looked sideways at the boys.

Have you fallen for Sarah’s blame game too?

But he kept quiet. A funeral should be for contemplation and not fighting.

The horn blew a third time. And a group of men, women, and children took up a rope that ran from where the body lay on a sort of stretcher. They pulled, and as they did so the stretcher lifted and moved towards the fire, lifted by a beam that rotated the body up into the fire. The rope end reached the crowd and all who could pulled on the rope until the stretcher with the body had been pulled onto the top of the fire where the color of the flames changed and released blue and green sparks.

The crowd then chanted a poem, each in their own way.

Fly now, rise high

On wings of fire

To skies unknown

Above new days.

Peter wondered if Jan could be right.

Is Cloud’s death my fault?

But that way lay madness. The ripple of his actions, and of everyone’s actions, spread out like ripples upon a pond, until lost in chaos.

He and Gazza had talked about the cone of causality, the light cone. And how it should be impossible to affect anything beyond it. Nothing could affect the universe faster than light could travel through it. And yet somehow Maggie and he had stepped outside this light cone, tilting it so that hers from the 1940’s and his from the 2020’s had touched. But in this alternate parallel universes.

So of course his actions had affected Cloud. But so had everyone else’s. The chaos of events meant that any number could have created the present where Cloud died. The collapse of the wave function, the winnowing of possible presents, could never be predicted. Amongst causality randomness reigned at the quantum level, and if not randomness, then at least unpredictability on the real world level of human events.

He did nothing intentionally to cause any of it. His and Maggie’s passage to Eoth, Sarah’s and the cousin’s. He did not intend any of it, he wanted to fix it all, undo it all. So could he really be blamed for any of it?

Does fault always need intention?

A new horn blast came as two more stretchers rose into the blaze, but no bodies this time. The belongings of the two riders that had fallen in the raid.

The chant rose again.

The breath of men

Lost on the wind

Becomes the sound

Of silent air.

Their shadows speak

And echoes cry

But voices fade

As stars swing by.

A shiver went down Peter’s body and he turned to Jan.

‘I saved Sarah once. I cared for you too. I’ll do so again. It’s what I do.’

‘A poem?’ said Jan. ‘Really?’ She walked away.

‘No, Jan. I didn’t mean,’ Peter said then sighed. ’I didn’t mean to sound flippant.’

Stolen novel; please report.

‘Peter,’ said Tiz. ‘It’s not your fault. Jan was the one that told you to go into that side cave.’

‘Yeah,’ said Walt. ‘She’s the one feeling guilty. Sarah’s just got it in for you for some reason. Didn’t take much to convice Jan either.’

The crowd began to disperse. But then a cry of alarm rose like a wave breaking, and people scattered. Peter looked across the crowd. Entering the rosy bright light of the fire came a group of riders on mounts of a kind and size similar to the Snow Clan’s beasts.

‘How much more death will you stomach Thorn?’ the head rider cried out. ‘How many more funeral pyres for the starving?’

‘They died in battle Grey,’ said Thorn. He stood before the arrivals and stared down both the rider and his mount. ‘Do you come to give them honor?’

Peter felt a burst of agitation and tried to work out where it came from.

‘No matter,’ said Grey. ‘We saw your fire and feared the worst. I seek to save you all, if you would but let us. Where is she?’

‘My daughter’s will is her own,’ said Thorn.

‘Then you have not raised her well,’ said the man. ‘Give her to me and I would relieve you both of that burden.’

The ground shivered as more of Grey’s River Clan riders rode up. Then a group of Snow Clan mounts led by Sarah entered the circle of fire and the crowd moved apart like grass rippled by the wind.

Sarah stood on her rearing mount, arms outstretched. ’You will have to take me to have me,’ she cried.

‘So be it,’ the man said. His mount reared up to match. ‘I will take you. No fear of that.’

The two clan’s riders arrayed themselves opposite one another.

Peter’s mount nudged him in the back. She had approached so silent and so close only Peter’s inner sense of her stopped him from jumping in surprise.

With a smooth movement he stepped up the muzzle onto her head even as she raised herself on hind legs.

‘Good girl,’ Peter said. She rotated her head as Peter stepped with her onto the side of her head. Then he mirrored her quizzical stance and he stared at the rival clan leader. The man felt his gaze and glared back at Peter.

‘You mock me?’ said Grey.

Peter said nothing. But instead shrugged, then turned his back on him as he slid into the saddle webbing. His mount did a good impression of a shrug too, and a ripple of laughter spread across the crowd. Even Grey’s own men had to hide their humor.

The glow of the fire seemed to dim then, but Peter realized the moon had come out from behind a cloud. Its silver now spread across the scene.

‘I challenge you,’ said the man, his eye directly on Peter.

‘No. I challenge you,’ said Sarah.

Peter’s mount stepped forward. ‘No girl,’ he said low under his breath. ‘I’m not ready to fight for Sarah, or anyone. Even if you are.’

He crossed his arms and shook his head.

‘So you would let a woman fight for you?’ Grey said to renew the challenge.

‘I should think I can fight for myself,’ said Sarah.

‘No daughter,’ Thorn said. He now rode on his mount with his lance drawn. ‘He would win.’

‘Then in my defeat he would still not win me. I would rather fall to his lance than his…’ she waved her hand dismissively.

More laughter came from the crowd.

‘I would not have it any other way,’ Sarah said.

‘Then I will challenge,’ said Thorn. ‘I too would not have it otherwise.’

‘That is good,’ said Grey. ‘Then we come to a resolution.’ He raised his voice. ‘Witness all. Whoever wins tonight binds both clans to the bond we make tonight. We five will have your daughters, or I fall and you may do as you will.’

‘If you fall. You send us food for the season,’ said Thorn.

‘It is done,’ said Grey. His men shouted agreement.

Peter looked at Grey then. Saw the strength in his arms and the thickness of his body. His beast bulked smaller than Thorn’s, but with stronger legs and a wilder look about its eyes.

His own mount stomped in frustration. ‘Easy there girl. I don’t even know what this challenge might be.’

But when Grey drew his lance, its tip flashing in the firelight, he had no doubt. Both riders might die tonight.

And there’s no agreement about what happens then.

Peter ran his hand across his mounts fur-feathers as he watched the two mounts and riders take up positions. The smooth flow of the colored fibers calmed him for some reason.

‘So Girl? This craziness. It’s a joust. And the prize is a woman. How medieval.’ He realized then he had named his mount. And it fitted her.

Below amongst the crowd he saw Tiz and Walt jostled as the thousand members of the clan vied for a view.

Girl dropped her head and scattered people who had moved too close. Their shouts and curses fell on his deaf ears.

‘Tiz, Walt,’ Peter called out. ‘Come up. There’s room for you.’

The boys scrambled up the webbing Peter had dropped to them, since neither trusted to climb the steeper way up Girl’s muzzle.

‘Where’s Jan?’

‘She’d not want to ride with you,’ said Walt.

‘I suppose not,’ said Peter.

‘I don’t blame you,’ said Tiz. ‘And. Coming here, to this planet. It’s not so bad even. This.’ Tiz waved at the fire bright scene. ‘Is wild.’

The clan had added fuel to the fire, and now the funeral pyre rose even higher. Peter felt the pulse of its heat on his face even as the heat from his mount warmed his legs. She shifted and gave a low croon that the other mounts all took up.

Thorn and Grey had squared up their mounts fifty meters apart with the fire midway between. A drum pounded out a beat and as the rhythm mounted the two beasts surged towards each other as if on a signal.

All the clan’s mounts raised their heads and let loose a howl as the two riders, lances at the ready, drove at each other. At the last minute both swung their lances at right-angles, swept them across at their opponent, and crouched low to their mount.

The lances bounced from the chest of the mounts and never got close to the riders.

‘Okay. That was pretty ineffective,’ said Tiz.

‘I don’t know the rules…’ began Peter

‘If there are rules,’ said Walt. ‘Where’s the umpire?’

The mounts spun around and the riders drove at each other again. This time they held the lances high and dropped them as they neared the fire. The heads of the mounts rose, their huge chests and shoulder connected, and they each roared as the collision threw Thorn and Grey forwards in their webbing. The crowd gasped.

The mounts lined up once again almost without direction from their riders. Peter got the impression that the joust looked a lot like how these beasts would fight if they met in the wild.

On the next pass the mounts raked each other with their rear legs even as the riders thrust their lances at each other. A cry of pain rose from Thorn’s mount, its foreleg hung at a strange angle. They lined up again. Thorn’s mount moved slower and when they met again Grey’s beast smashed its rival into the fire.

The explosion of flame sent sparks scattering amongst the crowd and high into the sky. Cries of alarm and hurt came from all sides.

Grey’s mount reared on hind legs and bellowed in challenge as it turned to drive back along the churned up ground. Thorn’s mount scrambled to its feet, while Thorn limped and struggled to climb into the saddle webbing. Grey waited for them to line up before he drove at Thorn again.

The embers of the fire had scattered across the snow, smoke and steam billowed around them as the silver light of the moon lit the two great beasts. When they neared the midpoint Thorn’s mount gave an almighty jump even as its opponent did the same. They met in midair with a crunch and both fell to the ground amongst the mud and ash. Thorn was thrown free and landed on his back on the ground before Peter. The crowd cried out and all looked for Grey. He jumped from his mount and strode towards Thorn, his lance dragged on the ground to dig a line in the ground.

Behind him the two beasts bit and clawed at each now, all pretense of rules and order lost as the animal instinct to fight took over.

Under Peter’s saddle Girl shifted and he felt a rising excitement. ‘Easy, easy,’ he muttered.

Other riders struggled with their own beasts, while more urged theirs away from the crowd and the fighting beasts. Sarah’s mount reared high as if to give her a view while she craned to watch. Peter could see on her lips the urge to cry out but she held her tongue.

‘Yield,’ shouted Grey.

‘Our beasts yet fight,’ said Thorn. He raised himself to his feet and stood legs akimbo as he stared down the rival clansman. ‘As do I.’

‘And yet you have no weapon,’ said Grey.

‘I…’ and Thorn launched himself at Grey, flipped his leg up and collected his rival on the side of his head. Both ended up on the ground amongst the mud. Grey stood, dragged his Lance up and began to lower it as if to skewer the older man. Thorn rolled to his feet, slower but more wisely, as he swept his feet under Grey’s and brought him back to the ground.

‘I don’t need a weapon,’ said Thorn.’

‘All fights end up on the ground,’ said Tiz.

‘Yeah,’ said Walt. ‘Even those beasts.’

The two mounts rolled on the ground and snapped at each other or swung their heads blows upon the others.

As Thorn stood over Grey he laughed. ‘I will not yield, nor will Sarah. Learn this now. Your life would be better without the anger you hold too close.’

Grey took advantage of the pause and got up. He raised his fists.

‘Old man. You have no idea.’ He struck out at Thorn, then kicked, but slipped. Both men ended up on the mud again.

As they rose to their feet, the crowd shouted encouragement to Thorn. But one of Grey’s men brought his beast too close. It snapped at Thorn who fell back.

Girl thrust herself forward then just as Peter thought to stop the fight. Her body slid between beast and man as she lowered her head in both wary warning, and calming submission.

‘Hold,’ Grey’s man shouted. ‘Riders approach. They come from the River. Listen now. They sound alarm.’

Then all the riders shouted for quiet. On the night wind came the mournful cry of a mount echoed by a horn that stuttered and died. And then a new rider entered the circle, and skidded to a halt amongst the blackened ashes of the pyre.

‘Attack,’ the breathless rider called out at last. ‘They burn and kill. The aliens have attacked River Clan. All is lost.’