Ep.32 - The Year Of The Bear
(Start at the beginning)
The mountainous terrain of the north was rough, hard to traverse and yet a welcomed relief for those more accustomed to it’s high altitude and cold climate. Four horses walked single file along a narrow road atop a long ridge, the Shale Road, the summit of which rose up and out of a low fog. The cold wispy gray cloud was a vast expanse, soft at the surface but so thick it lead one to dream of walking upon it. The cloud stretched to the base of a tall mountain range, the one that separated the kingdoms of the Middle Lands from that of the High Northern Wilds, filling much of the skyline to the north, bright and shining white with snow in the light of the early day with a clear blue backdrop beyond that. It was the home to the High Northern Pass, the place where Carmel began his journey, and where he first encountered the Bears.
Now he sought them once again, though with two now in his company. Kodiak, riding at the head of the column, deep in his element, travelling paths he was well accustomed to, paths he was born on and grew up traveling. Certainly the best man for the job and prickling with pride at the fact. Following close behind him and as far from a Bear as was possible, the Chronicler Ms. Boot, an oddity of a character, the last anyone would have expected on their journey, and as far from her element as one could imagine. Carmel, the Wilderman, followed third, having taken the rear guard for the first time since leaving Ipswitch. Such was his lot it seemed when forging his way through Bear territory, and perhaps he was better for it. Finally, amidst Carmel’s arms was Dolev, her eyes wrapped in a fold of red silk, afflicted as she was with blindness.
Wordlessly they followed the ridge line, the road descending at a low angle into the cloud, nothing but the hoof clops and breath from their beasts to signify they were there until eventually finding the nodes of light heralding what they were looking for, and harkening them forward.
“Halt! Name yourself.” The voice came through the shroud, its sound muffled and origin difficult to place under the oppression of the thick cloud. With it, the sound of shifting among rocks, and the tension of bowstrings teasing the shafts of wood.
“Kodiak, the one and only. Brown Beard, is that your growl I’m hearing?”
The crunching of boots over shale preempted the man's approach. Brown Beard, looking burly as ever, a little older perhaps, a little more worn since Carmel had last seen him, but Brown Beard all the same. He looked down the line at each of them and grasped Kodiak’s forearm. “I shouldn't be surprised to see you, but I am.” His voice was level, a hardness to him which wasn't unusual, but the presence of a downward tone seemed to strike any merriment from the meeting. Not the warmest of welcomes, no happy reunion between Bears.
“What, you didn't think I’d return?” Kodiak replied, his jovial side rising to the occasion.
Brown Beard looked glum at that, a low rumble rolling out his throat, a mumble of a sound past his lips, “You wouldn't be the first, let’s just leave it at that.”
“Brown Beard.” Dolev’s voice floated up from the rear of the column prompting the man to take a second look. “Dolev?” He replied, peering through the fog. He moved closer, clearing his vision and seeing her blindfolded amidst Carmel’s arms. “What’s with the blindfold?” He asked, sounding concerned. Dolev shook her head, a smile forming her lips, “A mishap, it’s no concern.” She said, though Carmel couldn't help but hear a note of sadness in her flowering dismissal. Nevertheless, she continued, “You sound weary, Old Bear, I hope it warms your heart to know our trip was fruitful.”
Brown Beard made a sound, a grunt of acknowledgment that didn't seem moved one way or the other.
“Where’s Papa Bear?” Carmel asked, pulling Big Beards attention.
“In the Lodge I suppose, with the others.” He nodded his head down the path, “Come, he’ll want to see you,” and away he trudged with the horses following in a line.
Though it was impossible to perceive the entire scope under the heavy fog, Kodiak had lead Carmel to believe they were bound for a small Hamlet by the name of Shaleridge. While he had to assume this was the Hamlet in question, from the sheer size, number of men, and amount of fortifications he’d rode past he couldn't assume it was a mere Hamlet any longer. Now it had all the hallmarks of a fort, and the Bears had clearly been busy defending it while they were absent. It was clear by the look of the men that blood had been spilled. Fresh wounds and bandages were in abundance. The number of guards on post was beyond reckoning, and even though the fog obscured it, a training square lifted the sounds of drilled commands and the crashing of implements up into the air. When the Bears had parted Ipswitch, Carmel recalled thinking the intention was to go do something akin to hunting. Now it seemed, in his absence, they had escalated to an entrenched war.
As they moved further inside, where the heat of man, beast, and campfire stirred the air, the fog thinned to reveal a clearer picture of what Shaleridge had become. The hamlet was built down the slope of the hillside, a series of half circle plateaus covered in simple housing. Low stone walls, some of which doubled for retaining, marked out the roads and pathways the segregated each local. Through its center a small stream carried water from the mountain, directed down a stone lined channel crafted from what quarry the mountain provided. The heavy aroma of cooking fat mixed with the brisk scent of so many Bears filled the nose, the upside, or possibly down of having so many collected Bears in one place. On the outskirts of it all, freshly constructed battlements lined the oldest parts of the town, some of which had suffered fire, all of which had been stained with a little bit of blood from the obvious fighting, if not a lot.
“I feel a heavy spirit hangs over this place.” Dolev said quietly to Carmel. Wet and bedraggled as they were after wading through the fog, and despite the stern greeting and unwelcoming nature of the place, Dolev provided a beacon of warmth that stood in stark contrast, and not just because she was pressed up against him. As always, she had a way of transcending the events that unfolded around her, and that felt as true now as it ever did.
“I’ll say,” Carmel replied.
“Tell me what you see?” Dolev asked.
Carmel took stock of their surroundings as it faded in and away through the fog. Though the picture was never complete, the bits and pieces came together with their passing. “I see Bears, scared and grizzled, old and young. None green. There’s been fighting, fresh wounds and bloody bandages. I’ve not seen a happy face among them,”
“I’ve not heard a laugh.” Dolev added.
“These men's hearts seem hardened. Maybe they suffered a defeat, or have been fighting too long.” Carmel exchanged a look with a man who had overheard the comment and despite appearing none to pleased, did not rise to contest the statement. He faded silently into the fog. “There’s a darkness here, a grim expression of some incorporeal spirit. Even the dwellings do not appear homely. The walls are crawling with lichen, like man has retreated and nature has retaken root, like the little things are being left unattended. It reminds me of-” Carmel trailed off as he had a flash of home, a memory of some of the hovels up in the crags, and of his own town in the heart of the wilds. Memories none too pleasing that had changed his expression to resemble that of the men they’d passed.
“Reminds you of what?” Dolev asked.
“Of home.”
“That’s not what I see,” Julia sounded from in front.
“Oh?” Dolev replied.
“There’s been fighting yes, and these men look worn, it’s true. But I see resolve in their eyes, not despair. The honor of the Bears is on display, now as it was before when I first saw them in Ipswitch. Their wounds are more badges than sufferings, marks of pride, tokens they carry of the deeds they’ve done. One man sees in his fellow his own struggle, and from that draws strength as nobody here is willing to give up, and they won't. The town may be in need of care, but its life now gathers around open cook fires with the tending done to boiling tea. Past the ground fires it floats through the thick of the distant fog in the form of glowing torches, the men still busy as they go about their duties.”
Carmel and Kodiak turned to stare while the blank glances of a couple of bears joined them from around a fire.
“What?” Julia asked, suddenly self-conscious at the silent attention.
Dolev hummed, “Thank you Julia, your eyes are a blessing and truly a window to your soul.”
“Hmm, not sure what that says about me.” Carmel mumbled so that only Dolev could hope to hear. She raised a hand and found his cheek, placing it gently in an exchange of warmth. “Heavy laden with burden I think, and rightly so,” She said to him quietly, “but I believe you ride in Julia’s purview. I appreciate both of your eyes.”
(Continue to Ep.33)
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