He was going bald.

He had arthritis and Lyme disease and dental abscesses and the accumulated wear of a physically demanding life.

He carried a copper axe and a full toolkit and a bow that was not quite finished yet.

And someone shot him in the back.

Five thousand years later, we know more about the circumstances of that death than anyone who was alive at the time — except the person who pulled the bowstring.

That person is gone, their identity as lost as their language and their gods and the name they gave to the hollow in the mountains.