The Fur Trader

by Sam Ferguson

“Lazar felt a sharp pain in his back at that moment and turned to see a trio of orcs. One of them held a bloody spear, which he used to prod Lazar again until the scholar stumbled forward to kneel upon the ground. Lazar then dragged his finger in the dirt and drew the orcish symbol for scholar. The orcs looked to each other and grunted amongst themselves. Then, one of them produced an iron shackle from behind his back. The first orc placed the spear tip next to Lazar’s heart while the second placed the iron ring around his neck and locked it in place. He then pulled an iron chain and clicked it onto the iron ring.

  “The third orc laughed and pointed to the camp. The first two left and the third knelt down next to Lazar, taking the iron chain in hand. ‘Your fight useless,’ the orc said in broken Common Tongue. ‘Your men dead, and your city will die too.’ The orc pulled on the chain and drew Lazar’s face in close enough to smell his fetid breath. He looked down at Lazar with his yellow eyes, drawing his lips thin across his tusk-like bottom teeth as he grinned. ‘You come with me,’ the orc commanded. He stood and yanked Lazar up to his feet. Lazar felt a sharp sting in his jaw as the iron ring bit into his skin.”

  “Did they kill him?” Richard asked.

  Garrin shook his head. “They took him as a slave,” he answered.

  “Better he had died on the field, then,” William said.

  Garrin shrugged. “They say the gods have a plan for all of us. They say that the webs of fate that spin the lives of men are part of a grand, eternal scheme. Lazar could not have anticipated that the record of his captivity would survive and become part of the standard military library of Kosvaria. His writings have touched the hearts of countless soldiers and informed the strategy of generations of captains in this and other lands who have been put on the front lines against orcs and various barbarian tribes. From his own account, Lazar would disagree with the idea of a grand design, but even that outlook is used to prepare soldiers for the world-view-shattering effects of war. Whatever the eternal purpose behind his capture and Oleant’s demise, Lazar could not help but feel ultimate defeat. As he left the battle field, littered with the broken bodies of his countrymen now being descended upon by carrion hunters, he looked across the bridge at the orcish camp and then at his captor and he could only think that it would be better had he died. For rank and file soldiers who know they may be marching to their death, Lazar’s tale provides a bitter-sweet hope that the struggle matters.”

  William nodded. “I thought you said this story shows the virtue of learning from your enemy?”

  Garrin smiled wide. “Think about it, had the orc not learned Common Tongue, they would not have sent a warning.”

  “You are saying they showed mercy?” William asked. “They sacked a great city.”

  Garrin held up a finger. “Ah, but if we read the history annals of that region, we discover that Oleant was originally an orcish city. It had been conquered only seventy years earlier. The orcs who attacked it were the grandchildren of those who had lost it. You see, there is always another side to the story.”

  “Doesn’t mean I like orcs,” William said. “They are even more savage than Tarthuns.”

  Garrin sighed. “Well, perhaps it would help if I explained that because Lazar was a slave to the orcs, he was able to study their culture and battle tactics first-hand. He is the same man who later became known as Lazar the Wise. He wrote a compendium on the orcs called Of Green Skin and Tusks. It is the definitive work on orcish culture, history, language, and warfare. Without that book, many cities would have been conquered by orcs over the years.

  “You know, centuries ago there were two thriving civilizations that controlled these mountains, long before the frost trolls and ice giants had managed to gain a foothold in the craggy mountaintops, and well before they ever set foot in Geberron Pass. Over the course of my trapping career I have run across a few of their ruins. I’ve heard from Orin and Enin that there came a time when the Kossins and Punjaks ceased cooperating.”

  William balked then, though Garrin wasn’t sure what he had said that upset the nobleman. The trapper continued on with his closing statement.

  “The exchange of ambassadors and representatives between the two nations ended abruptly, and the two peoples eventually destroyed each other. The way Brent Smygle puts it, it was the breakdown of communications that ultimately led to the end of two civilizations which had previously been renowned for their ingenuity and wisdom. So, I guess there is an example of when refusing to learn from others can actually create enemies where there were none.”

  “Have you ever come across a Kossin fortress up here in the mountains?” William asked.

  Garrin shook his head. “I have seen only ruins, but nothing a person could actually enter into if that’s what you are asking.”

  “Oh, I see,” William said quickly.

  “Brent Smygle once told me he had found something a couple of years ago. Said he saw some rubble with a few indecipherable runes remaining on scattered bits of rock in a cave somewhere. Said he was going to use the clues to look for more complete remains, but I never picked up on that conversation with him again.”

  William visibly softened and sighed with a slight smile. “I see,” he said.

  “In any case, I was just trying to say that learning from others is always a good thing, even if it’s a song from an enemy.”

  William nodded. “I get it, trapper. Forget I ever brought up the subject.”

  Garrin caught a look of surprise on Richard’s face that told the trapper that William did not apologize often. Garrin took it in stride with a simple nod of his head and a smile.

  “Probably time to turn in for the night,” William told Richard.

  Richard nodded and looked down to Kaspar. The white, furry creature seemed to understand William and leapt out of Richard’s lap to return to his canister. William and Richard bade Garrin goodnight and then went to their tent.

  Garrin was still sitting there long after dark. He looked up to the cloudless night sky and surveyed the bright stars he could see suspended in the heavens above the icy pond.

  This was one of his reasons for camping at this spot the first night of any trek out into the forest. It was the best vantage point for stargazing in the area that he was aware of. He watched for shooting stars as the fire started to die down and the night’s cold began to set in.

  He never heard Rux and Kiska return, but the horses whinnied nervously and Garrin knew that the split-tails were back from their hunting romp.

  “Catch anything for me?” Garrin called out over his shoulder.

  The two animals bounded over to him and nearly knocked him over onto the ground. He reached out and pet each of them and then pulled them in close to his sides, seizing their heads in the crook of his elbow just for the fun of watching them wriggle free. After a while, the two animals moved over to Garrin’s tent and curled up in front of the entrance.

  Garrin finally decided it was time to sleep and went to the tent as well, ready for some rest and wondering what the next day would bring. He buttoned down the flap on his tent to protect against the wind and then slipped into his thick bedroll dressed in all of his clothes. The quiet of the forest helped put his mind to rest and he soon drifted off to sleep.

  In the wee hours of the morning, just before dawn, a terrible scream woke Garrin from his slumber.

  The trapper was unbelievably quick in exiting his tent. He called out to William and Richard. William was yelling and shouting angrily. Richard was the one screaming, his voice high and shrill with terror in the night. Garrin couldn’t see what was happening. The moon had already dropped behind the mountains and the stars did not fully illuminate the area. The fire had died and there was only the starlight to cut the darkness. A large form was pulling at the side of William and Richard’s tent.

  Garrin knew instantly that it was a bear.

  He ran for the animal, drawing a knife in his left hand and a hatchet in his right. Another large form moved in and lunged at the bear. Garr
in guessed it was likely Kiska, as she was usually the first to jump into a fight. A fraction of a second later another form came in and started biting and clawing at the bear’s back legs.

  The bear snorted and backed away, taking a swipe at the split-tails, but Kiska and Rux were far too agile for the lumbering bear. They disengaged long enough to dodge the attack and then swiftly cut back in. The front tent flap flew open and out came William. He also engaged the bear, despite Garrin’s shouts for him to step away.

  The bear roared and stood on its hind legs. The bear lifted a massive paw and then swiped down at William. The man was flung to the side and bounced upon the snow. The bear would have likely finished William off if not for Kiska and Rux jumping between him and the bear. Garrin continued sprinting in and threw his hatchet at the dark shape. The bear’s head twitched to the side, telling Garrin that his aim had struck true. It wasn’t a killing blow, he knew, but it disoriented the bear long enough for Kiska and Rux to get in and finish the beast off without risking injury to themselves. Kiska lunged low, pulling the bear’s right hind leg, while Rux leapt up with her massive, cougar-like paws and attacked the bear’s throat.

  The bear grunted and then fell to the ground, dead.

  Garrin was there two seconds later, but Rux and Kiska were already moving away from the kill. It was over. The trapper looked to William, who was groaning and moving on the ground, and then he turned to the tent and called out for Richard.

  “Are you hurt, boy?” Garrin asked.

  Richard was whimpering inside the shambles of a tent that remained after the attack. Garrin fumbled with the cloth and felt around for the opening. When he found it, he slipped in and called out for Richard again.

  “I’m alright,” Richard said through shaking sobs. “It only bit my coat.”

  Garrin moved in close and reached out a hand.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “He didn’t get your shoulder or your head or neck?”

  Richard grabbed Garrin’s hand and placed it upon the outside of the thick coat. Garrin pulled his right hand free of his thick mitten and felt the tooth marks and wormed his index finger through the hole just enough to see that the boy was unharmed.

  “He bit my coat and started to drag me. I must have been sleeping close to the side of the tent.”

  “Why didn’t you use your magic, boy? The bear would have run if you had hit it with fire,” Garrin said.

  Richard pulled back from Garrin and sniffled.

  “I can’t do it all the time,” he said. “I’m not sure how to control my magic yet. Sometimes it comes, and other times I think I can call it, but nothing happens.”

  “Richard!” William called out from outside the tent. “Richard, you all right?”

  “I’m fine Uncle,” Richard replied quickly. “Just bit my coat, that’s all.”

  “Praise the gods!” William exclaimed. The tent flap opened again and William stumbled in.

  Garrin caught the hint of a shimmer in the starlight and realized that William was carrying a weapon.

  “Sword?” Garrin asked.

  William grunted. “Rapier,” he said. “I know it isn’t the rugged sort of weapon you would expect out here, but it’s what I am best at.”

  Garrin had to choke back a laugh. “No wonder the bear took a swipe at you. With a needle like that, all you are going to do is make a bear mad. Better to cast it aside and fashion a spear out of a long branch.”

  “You fight your way, and I will fight my way,” William replied sternly.

  Kiska entered the tent at that moment, spooking Richard nearly into open sobs again. Garrin patted the boy on the back to quiet him, announcing that it was only Kiska.

  “She won’t hurt you. She’s inspecting the tent.”

  “For what?” William asked.

  Kiska sniffed loudly along the floor of the tent and pushed her way between the three of them. After a moment, she came up with something in her mouth. She turned her head and dropped something on Garrin’s lap. In the darkness he couldn’t see what it was. He slid his right hand over it and knew instantly why the bear had come. He lifted the length of dried meat up to his nose and sniffed it.

  “Who brought the meat in the tent?” Garrin asked.

  “I put most of the food in the bear hang,” William began, “But I…”

  “But what?” Garrin asked as he chucked the piece of food at William. “There are rules up here you must live by. To break them is to invite death. ALL food goes in the bear hang at night. If you think this was bad, just wait until we are traveling in welk territory. They will make you beg for a bear attack.”

  “Don’t blame me for the bear!” William shouted.

  Garrin reached over and socked William in the side of the head. William went down to the ground, hard. He started to rise, but Kiska was looming over him, growling low. William remained very still.

  “It is your fault,” Garrin said. “The bear was hungry. It was looking for food. I had seen this very same bear after my recent trapping excursion. It came to my house looking for food and was easy enough to scare off without needing to kill it. You lured it here with a hefty piece of meat. If Richard had died tonight, the blame and guilt would rest with you, not the bear. Do something as stupid as this again, and I will tie you to a tree and leave you with a piece of dried meat hanging around your neck. You will not endanger my camp again. Understand?”

  William whispered calmly, “I understand. I’m sorry.”

  Garrin rose to his feet. “Richard, get some sleep. William, I’m going to build a fire, and you are going to spend the remainder of the night tending to it and keeping watch.”

  Garrin left the tent, but Kiska didn’t move away from William until several moments after Garrin had exited.

  The next morning saw no lessening of the tension. Garrin cast frequent, angry glances at William while the nobleman nursed his pride and silently poked at the fire. No one spoke during breakfast. They ate their food and packed camp silently. William and Richard waited quietly, watching Garrin skin and butcher the bear from the night before. Kiska and Rux made short work of more than half the meat from the carcass. Garrin cooked the rest and packed it for a later time.

  Garrin brought the bear skin over to William and held it out for the nobleman.

  “A reminder that money can’t excuse you from following the rules out here. My instructions keep you safe. I would make you use this for the remainder of the trek, if not for the fact that it takes weeks to properly tan and dry the pelt.”

  “I am sorry,” William said.

  Garrin seemed to soften at that. His face relaxed and he nodded slowly. “Well, at least you aren’t a coward. It was brave of you to fight the bear, even if it was with a needle.”

  William nodded, and took the compliment.

  “You know, the Tarthuns have a legend that if you wear the skin of an animal you fought, it will give you its strength. So, you can’t wear this one, but I do have a tanning station where I can trade it for another that I had taken a couple of months ago.”

  “Is it on the way?” William asked.

  Garrin shook his head. “Not entirely out of the way, but it is a bit off to the north.”

  “We don’t have the time for detours,” William said.

  Garrin nodded. “Then I suggest from here on out you do as I tell you. Stopping and fighting bears, or worse creatures deeper within the mountains, will slow us down much more, especially if the animal wins. We’ll detour today and be back on the proper path by tomorrow. Perhaps that will help you understand how serious this is.”

  “I understand,” William said as he rose to his feet. “But, for the love of the Gods, let’s just get on the road.”

  Garrin shook his head. “The skin is fresh. It will attract animals as well. It’s too large to hang up in a bear hang.”

  “Then let’s leave it,” William said, almost pleading.

  Garrin stepped in and shoved the folded skin into William’s arms. “No. I never
kill wantonly. We took the bear’s life. Now we will use every part we can. The pelt is going to my tanning station, and that is final.”

  William nodded and soon they set out upon the road once more.

  Chapter 5

  The trio wound their way through the mountain forest and snow, heading north upon little-used trails. They made the tanning station two hours before nightfall. A square building of stone with a slanted roof made of slate stood in a small clearing. A pair of stone chimneys protruded from the building’s roof, pointing to the cloud-filled sky. The door was only partly visible because it was covered by a large, round slab of stone.

  Garrin let the split-tails loose and they put their noses to the ground, sniffing intently and running off into the forest. The horses and pack mule were left to forage for what little vegetation they could find nearby while Garrin unpacked one of the sacks of oats stacked onto the sled and then fed the horses from there. In between bites, he snuck each of the horses a pair of sugar cubes and patted them along their necks. The mule turned its nose at the oats and continued to stick its nose to the ground, searching for tender plants below the snow.

  “Let’s take all of our supplies inside.” Garrin walked to the large, round slab and reached out to a sturdy, iron lock. He removed his right mitten and fished a key out of an outer satchel hanging from his belt. The lock clicked and squeaked as he disengaged it and then pulled the metal latch away that secured the slab of stone to the outer wall. Garrin grunted as he put his hands to the large wheel of stone and got it rolling away from the door. He then used the same key to unlock the wooden door and pushed it open.

  “I bet that keeps the critters out,” William said as he pointed to the stone slab.

  “Keeps rival trappers out as well,” Garrin replied evenly. “It isn’t unheard of in these parts for items to go missing.”

  William glanced around the snow-covered trees circling them about. “Ever get groups of highwaymen out here?”

  Garrin nodded. “It happens more often than you might think. Don’t worry though, I’m sure your little needle will scare them off.”