Audiences: Chapter 5

Chapter 5, Bear!

Yar sat up slowly, careful not to disturb his still sleeping companion. He pulled up the edge of the wool rug and took a long look underneath. Nice! Actually, nothing had happened last night, as she had had way too much to drink. Still, it was always good to have someone warm to snuggle up to. Of course, that is not how everyone would see it. His reputation as a roguish and worldly type, who’d lived an appallingly fascinating life, would be maintained. It would also help the woman’s reputation for having bedded the glamorous foreigner. He shook her gently. “Let us meet again later”, he said. “For now, no doubt you want to rest from last night’s exertions.” He kissed her smartly, pulled on his clothes, and went out to find breakfast.

It turned out that almost everyone else had already eaten and was now hard at work. But there were eggs and smoked fish waiting for him. And a big fried slice of pork brain. Excellent. Afterward he had a quick wash and went to look for Seltheen. He found her on Inshaa, trotting around in circles, slashing at targets with a long pole. She pulled up, slid off the back of the horse, and dropped low, spinning the pole over her head. Several dozen onlookers, mostly children, applauded. She strode over to the carpenter who was among the watchers. She used her dagger to slash the pole near the end, and then presented it to her. “Cut. Here. Good. Pole.” she said in mangled chuudib. The carpenter smiled and took it away.

“Had a good night?” Yar asked Seltheen. “Good enough, ask no further”, she replied coldly. “Oh dear, have I transgressed a rinker social norm?” “You know you have.” “Fine, be like that. But your new friend will not be so reticent. Chuudibs have different customs concerning such things.” “So go ask him, I won’t care. I suppose you have a new friend too.” “Always, but I won’t let her come between what we have.” She snorted and began attacking the targets again with her sword.

She kept it up for the rest of the morning. Sword, saxe, dagger, bow. She had managed to obtain a few arrows she thought she could use. She also borrowed an axe and practiced with it. The village elders had to keep dragging youngsters back to their tasks.

Yar joined the youngest children at their chores. He improvised a silly song for each task. For weeding it was “pinch away, pull away, dig away, now, this patch is my farm and my hoe is a plow!”. For carding wool it was “fine, finer finest, the yarn will entwine, for that soft softer softest new sweater of mine!”. They got twice as much done as they normally did. Later, he met up with his partner of the previous night. Her name was Brleyandarmblee. He pretended to lose his balance saying it. On the third try, he turned his grip on her into a dance step. “Shall we?” he asked. He summoned the children and had them clap while singing the songs from earlier. Somehow they made appropriate music for a simple skip around a circle dance. And soon he had other couples joining in.

For the rest of the day, he divided his time among the various groups of working adults, singing traditional chuudib ballads. And that evening, after a dinner of pork and roots that had been roasting all day, he set up a puppet theater. Once again, Seltheen didn’t stick around. She had found some more company.

Yar put on what he said was a classic gorvij drama called “Out of Chocolate”. The storyline was certainly a drama, with war and conquest in the background. But it centered around a group of aristocrats whose inept attempts to respond to the crisis kept degenerating into thigh slapping comedy. The audience especially roared every time one particular character wandered out holding an empty pitcher and responded to someone’s description of a catastrophe with the plaintive cry “and we’re out of chocolate!”. Foolish nobles were always a hit with the working classes.

The next day, Seltheen decided to explore. Her new partner was a hunter, so she asked him, with much halting and gesturing, to show her around. He was pleased to oblige.

His name was Uunreed, which was convenient because she could pronounce it. Sort of, since the `nr’ sound was not supposed to be split. He in turn had trouble with her name, calling her `Selsheen’ or `Selcheen’. But best of all, he spoke the simple universal language called `mood say’. It was more of a code than a language, but it had the interesting property of that one didn’t so much learn the words and grammar by being taught, but by discovering them through contemplative exercises. It was said that deep down inside every sentient being already knew it, but not all knew that they knew it. It was only good for transmitting the most basic ideas, but it was better than mixing a few dozen words of mangled chuudib with a lot of pointing.

Well there was still some pointing. Uunreed was describing the terrain ahead. “Advise: trail soon forward. Lake later. Many big four leg leaf eater.”

Seltheen was eager. “Query: four leg good for kill-eat.” He laughed “Advise: yes.” It was a good day. Seltheen killed two deerlike creatures and a large bat, impressing Uunreed with her skill at archery and at dressing carcasses. Inshaa impressed him too, with his unexpected strength for his size, seeming unaffected by the weight. Uunreed was even more impressed when he cried out in warning. “Imperative: danger! Stop now!” And Inshaa stopped instantly in response to Seltheen's change in posture. She rolled off the horse's back into a crouch with her sword out. Something with a short dense body and a wide toothy mouth sailed over her head. Later she learned it was called a vipertoad. Uunreed snagged it with his throwing net and bashed it against a rock. Then he expertly gutted it, demonstrating to Seltheen how to remove the poison sacs.

Yar was with the children again, making up silly verses about their names, when the whole village went into commotion. First he saw a fox streak across the hardpacked workyard and squeeze under the wall of a hut. That was strange, foxes were often wary, but he'd never see one running flat out like that. Yar had gotten used to small animals bustling around the edge of the daily activities. Chuudibs rarely had personal pets but some creatures were treated kindly so that they would hang around and be useful. Foxes kept down the vermin population and reduced the amount of food waste that had to be buried. A second fox found home base, then an anteater. Somewhere a bell was clanging. People were running now, including most of his juvenile audience. Those that didn’t were quickly snatched up like sacks of turnips. Someone grabbed his arm. “Get inside, outlander! There’s a bear out there!” As he helped bar the door of the shed he ended up in, Yar wondered why the chuudib word for `bear’ required four trilling syllables. You’d think they’d have developed a faster word to say at times like this.

Inshaa narrowed his nostrils and whickered. “Yes, I know”, Seltheen murmured. The rank smell was unfamiliar but she was sure it meant danger. She looked at Uunreed. He was staring. There was definite fear in his eyes. He brought his horse up close, leaned in and whispered. “Advise: much danger. Big thick fur creature. Big teeth claws. Easy to anger. Hard to kill. We move now. Quiet.”

They separated enough to have room to fight if necessary. They started to head towards the village. A huge shaggy brown creature erupted from the underbrush. Seltheen put an arrow into it with practiced ease. There was time for another, and two shots should certainly slow the creature enough to dispatch with a blade. That’s how she would have dealt with a wolf back home. Thank the Sacred Ancestors this thing didn’t have packmates. Her hand flashed to her quiver to grab another arrow when the creature stood up and roared.

Seltheen’s heart froze. Something struck her like a hammer blow. Her vision went black. There was roaring all around her, .it seemed. But there was only one creature, wasn’t there? Someone was shrieking. Inshaa? He had never made a sound like that before. And why was he so far away? She was riding him, after all. No she wasn’t. She became aware of her body again. She was on her back. On the ground. Her highly trained, fearless rinker warhorse had thrown her!

There was a thunk in the distance and the roaring stopped. A voice was shouting in chuudib. Uunreed. “Can’t!” she yelled. It was the only chuudib word she could remember. He must have heard her, because he started using mood say. “Imperative: stand up now.” Yes. Must stand up. She had a purpose now, a direction. Her vision cleared as she rose to her feet. The creature was growling as it faced Uunreed and his panicky horse. A gash in the creature’s shoulder looked like a hoof mark. The horse must have managed to catch the creature with a surprise kick; that was the sound she’d heard. But the blow had been only slightly more effective than her arrow, which had fallen out. Muscles bulged as the creature gathered itself for a leap. Uunreed threw a log he was holding. It hit the creature square in the nose, causing it misjudge its distance and fall short. Uunreed drew his long knife and sliced down. Blood spurted. The creature roared and lashed out, raking his arm. His gritted his teeth against the pain and lunged. This time he stabbed deep. He ducked under the return swing and wrenched his horse’s head around. The horse was glad to oblige, it took off so fast that he lost his grip and fell off.

Seltheen ran and helped him up. The creature growled and stood up again, ignoring the gushing blood. It spotted the two hyuumins and dropped down again, ready to attack. “Inshaa! To me!” Seltheen called. The plucky little horse had recovered its nerve. It charged from behind and ran up the creature’s broad back. The creature collapsed as the warhorse bounded off. Seltheen leapt into the saddle and pulled Uunreed up behind her. She looked back. The creature was getting up again. Well with the wounds it had sustained it wouldn’t be able to catch them. She brought Inshaa to a gallop. Uunreed groaned. “Imperative: go from dwellingplace.” “Acknowledged” she replied. Of course they should lead the creature away from the village even though it would likely drop dead soon.

When she thought they had enough of a lead, she stopped to check on Uunreed. He was bleeding profusely from three long slashes but none were very deep. She bandaged him. “Advise: will be good markings. Your companions will see your worth.” He did not seem pleased. Perhaps chuudib warriors did not honor their scars the way rinkers did.

The next day a team of hunters retrieved the body, along with Seltheen’s bow and Uunreed’s knife and crossbow. Some of the products of the pig were traded to other villages for more firewood and a few extra metal tools. Uunreed was judged to have made the killing stroke so he was to have the bulk of the skin. It would be made into a cloak. For her part, Seltheen was allotted enough of the hide to make a short tunic, but since a rinker wouldn’t wear one as outerwear, no one would know of her valor. So instead she was getting a vest, mittens, and leggings. Also several teeth and claws. “Allow me” said Yar. He deftly undid the braided cords on the handle of her sword and redid them incorporating two of the claws. He added a tuft of fur to make a tassel. “As you see, I have restored the patterns so they still indicate your clan and tribe. But now you are also identified as a hero.” Later he did the same with her other weapons and her saddle.

They stayed another 5 days. Yar continued to come up with new songs and other amusements in addition to the ones everyone wanted to hear again. Seltheen and Uunreed went out riding every day and spent every night in her tent or his treehouse. She couldn't get the village children to understand that Inshaa was a battle trained warrior’s mount and they could not just walk up and offer him a caress or a carrot., so she built a lean-to to act as a makeshift stable to reduce his exposure and surrounded it with dry twigs so that he wouldn't be surprised.

Since the abundance of meat had given her an abundance of goodwill, Seltheen was able to have her new spear shaft reinforced with steel bands at the pointed end. To balance the extra weight she had a thick iron cap added to the other end. She was vaguely aware that Yar was also adding to his equipment but she didn't understand the purpose of most of the items and didn't care to listen to the explanations.

On their last night, the village population tripled from visiting neighbors. They were plied with many new and unfamiliar dishes. Yar cautioned her not to have more than a bite or two of anything but always accept anything offered for the road. He himself had obtained two baskets full of little meat pies. “They keep a long time” he explained.

Yar was, once again, the main attraction, but tonight his offer was an epic dramatization of Seltheen's recent adventurers. Many liberties were taken with the facts. The pig became a smoky dark juggernaut sent by malevolent deities of the underworld. It tore up whole villages and when Seltheen confronted it, it still had bloody ribbons of flesh on its tusks. “Yes my friends, those same tusks that now adorn her vest!” With barbarian cunning, she trapped the monster between two enormous fallen trees, and then struck deep, deep into the evil red ember of its great piggy eye... But her spear snapped! Without hesitation, she leapt onto its back. And when her sword stuck in its rock hard flesh, she slid off and dodging around its deadly attacks she took her dagger in both hands and stabbed it in the groin so hard her arms went into to its body up to the elbows. In its death throes, the pig had churned up enough virgin land to start a farm. In fact someone had already claimed the land for just that purpose.

The audience gasped and groaned, cheered and laughed as they followed the moods created by Yar's art. A merchant from another village stood next to Seltheen and translated for her. By the time the story ended, her arm was sore from his excited pounding. She was also stunned at Yar's audacity. Tall tales, especially bragging ones, were a highly respected tradition in the Rinks. But this was far beyond anything she'd heard from even the most seasoned warrior in her tribe. She whispered the traditional rinker closing phrase for a bragging session. “Once I told a tale so outrageous that the moon shook its head at me.”

The crowd had gotten a good start on its digestion and was ready for more food. As platters started making their way around again, Yar led a chorus of some of his young friends in a few favorite chuudib folk songs. Then he graciously made way for some local singers. None were in his class but he found something complimentary to say to and about each one. He made sure that they all got applause.

Finally, when everyone was full again, Yar performed another epic. This one featured Seltheen and Uunreed versus a destructive forest spirit that took the form of a bear as tall as an ancient tree. It moved like a whirlwind and battered the heroes so hard it threw them into the air. But Seltheen was a match for that. She had some magic unguent made by a rinker shaman and when she smeared it on her horse’s hooves, it made him fly. So on his back, she flew around the bear, attacking with her sword. Meanwhile, Uunreed called upon the good spirits to give him their strength. The spirits answered. Uunreed raised his hand and threw lightning! The evil spirit was defeated. It fled, leaving the empty bear form behind. And now, behold: he wears its skin as a trophy!

Tonight the moon was going to shake its brains out.

“So what did that merchant want?” Seltheen asked the next morning. “I saw him talking to you after last night’s celebration. Thing is, you appeared to be listening.” Yar chuckled. “You do know why that man speaks your language, right? He travels to the Rinks a lot. He gave me 250 gold pieces to make him a written version of your triumphs. The one about the bear had to be adjusted a bit, to diminish Uunreed’s part a little. He’s going to take it with him on his next trip and some rinkers who work for him will sing it. His audiences will enjoy hearing the mighty deeds of one of their own. That will make them more favorable towards trading with him. That will go double for Eeyunk Clan, of course.”

“How does he know my clan name?” demanded Seltheen. “I never gave it! We only give our personal names to outsiders.” “True, but some outsiders have learned the meaning of your braids and tassels. Don’t worry, he won’t tell anyone. And I certainly know better, oh flame of my heart.”

“Are you back to that?” she sighed. “I thought you got plenty in the village! I know you have some nice presents, that implies that some foolish woman not only liked the sound of your quail honking, they liked the quail too.” “Oh, yes, more than one, in fact! And I know you and your fellow beast slayer had some more welcome adventures together. But now we are each alone again, we must mutually offer comfort.” “You’ve got bear sausage on your breath!” “So do you.”