The Year Of The Bear - Ep.20
(Start at the beginning)
“Another Bear. Two Bears, so far from home. And you, such a ferocious one by the look of it. What’s brought you so far south, I’d think the climate too warm for blood as hot as yours.”
Kodiak shrugged, his thumbs hitched in his belt, his shoulders hunched forward filling out his lanky frame. “I’m here for the women,” He said, baring his teeth in a forced, brackish smile. The answer was a lie, a misdirection, a half truth, Carmel knew. It didn't take a genius to see it either, which Lady Fareamay was closer to than not. Not that Kodiak was attempting to hide anything. It seemed more important to him to avoid the question entirely, and that being known seemed better to serve the purpose than not. Maybe that was due to pride, or something more nefarious. Either way, Carmel would have counted it a miracle to see Kodiak give a satisfying answer to the woman, especially considering how cautious the Bear had been upon entering the building.
“A just and worthy cause, I’m sure.” Fareamay replied, leveling her gaze at him for a moment before moving her attention on down the line.
“And, Kass, was it?”
Kass’ eyes twitched with recognition but she said nothing, staring awkwardly at Fareamay for a moment before looking at her captors.
“Is it shyness or something else? Speak girl! I sensed some trepidation in your introduction, why are you here?”
Kass’ brow furrowed at that and her eyes fell to the floor. “I’m here because they forced me here. I’m here a prisoner.” She said in a low tone, a mix of resentment and shame rolled into one.
“How interesting,” Fareamay’s eyes roamed down the line, finding something different in each persons standing. Wrath in Kodiak, concern in Dolev, resolve in Carmel, the aforementioned trepidation in Julia.
Julia was the only one to lend her voice to an explanation. “It’s complicated, quite a story actually,” she said with a nervous laugh, an attempt to smooth any tension, perceived or otherwise.
Fareamay chuckled at some joke only funny to her, “I would be glad to hear it,” and she looked again to Kass, “So then, why were you forced here?”
Kass’ brow furrowed anew, her eye turning inward despite her gaze holding firm the attention of the floor. “I.. I don’t know.” She answered, appearing suddenly confused.
Carmel interjected, no sign of humor or confusion about him. “She’s here for the same reason we all are, the Yos. Have you heard of them?”
Lady Fareamay drew breath, measuring her time as much as she measured the transition of attention from one person to the other. The muscles surrounding her eyes twitched, a sharpness edging its way through her mind, though if it was at the name, or the imposition, Carmel was not sure.
“Now that is a curious question.” She got to her feet.
Across the room on a desk beside the grand window a number of books, parchments, and various scholarly implements lay open in process. Fareamay took up residence before the body of work, prompting everyone to shift accordingly to join her. She gathered a collection of letters, setting them closest to Carmel on her left, and drew open an old book which she lay before her on the right. She planted her pointed finger on the stack of letters, compressing the buoyant pile, while simultaneously running her free hand across some other text.
“These are a stack of letters written me from distant lands over the last year. Each speaks in part, or as a whole, of an entity, or rising force known by the name of Yos, and has become a rising theme from my Chroniclers. Particularly in the West, but now in the neighboring lands to the North and South. Agents in blue garb, priests or acolytes some say, spreading a message that is both foreign to some, that also resonates as if deep truth to others. Towns and villages being torn apart through personal strife, families separating, a plague and an illness spreading, endless examples of strife, discord, and yet, a trending unity under this ominous name- Yos. I read the reports, a trickle at first, then a torrent, and set them aside as an idle curiosity until one day, while out in the garden, the name struck a chord in my memory. I remembered seeing it, this name Yos, somewhere in an old rarely used text.”
Carmel flicked open a letter as she spoke, scanning it with a vague air of interest before running his eyes over the entirety of the tables contents and back to Fareamay. “The old text, what did it say?”
“I will tell you,” Fareamay nodded, “but before I do, you must share something with me.”
Carmel frowned, displeased at having the table turned on him. Without any reason to object, he shrugged, “Alright, what do you want to know?”
“It has been an age since I’ve had any reliable word of the realm beyond the High Northern Pass. Who holds the High Seat of the Highest Hall in the Hamlets these days?”
Carmel shook his head, his lips drawing down to mark a glum look that disarmed him for an moment. “The High Seat sits empty, all successors cut short and fellow, not to mention in short order- The Yos.” Carmel remarked with a bite.
“Hmm, and how many homes do the Wildermen boast of at present?”
Carmel frowned and shook his head, the slight marks of irritation turning his brow crooked. “Not sure, at present. Let’s just say there aint no boasting among the Wildermen on the subject.” Then to make the point added, “The Yos.”
“It saddens me to hear of such a noble place laid low. The Yos then: you sound as though you have experience, tell me what you’ve seen of it in the High Places.”
Annoyed by the topic, Carmel took his thick grizzled finger and planted it on the table between himself and Lady Fareamay, laying down a point, and capturing ground. “Listen Lady,” The Wilderman began, and despite the correct use of her title, forewent any semblance of respect in the term. “As fun as a game of twenty questions is, I’ve come a long way in search of help, so if you don’t have any, I’ve got no interest in standing still for any longer than I have to.”
Fareamay held a mask of concern and nodded her understanding. “My apologies, and my sympathies. I recognise your pain and share in it. I traveled the Wilds in my youth and lived amongst the crags for a season. I have fond memories of your people.” She turned her attention from Carmel, and Carmel felt himself soften in humility. Fareamay drew forth the book, and laid it to bare for her telling...
(Continue to Ep.21)
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