by L. M. Roth
“Do you see a path of any sort?” he whispered in his ear.
Marcus shrugged and strained his eyes for a better view.
“We may have to make our own path,” he snapped, as a sudden dread of the forest seized him.
Both were reluctant to take the first step into the barrier of branches. The warnings of the Empress Aurora was still fresh in their minds; what lay in wait for them in that dark and forbidding wood?
Felix looked at Marcus in round-eyed wonder. He waited for a signal from Marcus before proceeding any further. Seeing that, Marcus decided to take action. Not unlike a warhorse pawing the ground before battle he stamped his foot and tossed his head high.
Then, with a nod of his head toward Felix, he took a step and together they plunged into the ominous forest.
Chapter XII
The Introduction of Dag
It was not an easy trek. The trees grew so closely together that the daylight was obscured and filtered only dimly through the towering forest. In some places the branches interlocked overhead, producing a gloom impossible to dispel.
Exposed tree roots made a trap for unwary feet, so they looked carefully where they trod. The snow was only a light covering here due to the near impenetrability of the trees. Still, the frigid temperatures produced a slick glaze of ice that slowed their progress as they walked slowly and carefully lest they slip and lose their balance.
“It could be worse,” opined Felix with his characteristic optimism. “We could be walking up to our knees in snow. I have heard that the drifts are high in this land.”
“What we have to endure is hard enough! How can anyone live in a land of such darkness,” Marcus grumbled as he placed his hands carefully from one trunk to the next as he struggled to find his way.
The darkness was so complete that they were forced to light torches in order to see where they were going. But the gloom was so thick that they could not discern a path, so they walked slowly, grasping for trunks and holding to each other.
In this fashion they made slow progress, but by the end of their first day they estimated that they had penetrated some twenty miles through the forest. Considering how difficult the terrain and how intense the darkness, Marcus felt it was not a bad start to the journey.
They found a grove of pine trees that formed a semi-circle where they decided to make camp for the night. They soon had a bright and cheerful fire going where they roasted the venison that the garrison had sent with them as a farewell offering. The meat was welcome after the energy they had expended in their slog over the rough and uneven ground.
They made a primitive tent from the woolen hangings they had brought with them from Valerium by draping them over low hanging pine boughs, thus sheltering them from any wind that might chance to blow. They fed the fire to keep it burning during the night, and snug in their tent, they were soon fast asleep.
The day dawned, but without any sign of the sun. It was as dark at sunrise as it had been after sunset. Marcus noted to himself that the day before had produced only about four hours of daylight in the early afternoon. Still, they could not be deterred by something that could not be changed. This was their road, and take it they must.
After they broke their fast with bread, cheese and dried fruit, they collected their hangings and bundles and proceeded to continue their hike. The forest had an eerie stillness that kept both of the young men alert and casting a wary eye in all directions as they ambled on.
They were making decent progress and had trudged another fifteen miles or so by late afternoon. By now the sun had emerged, but did little to dissipate the murkiness of the forest. Marcus allowed himself to feel a little more optimistic; they had traveled thus far on their own resources and he felt Valerius would be proud of his son. His father had trained Marcus on how to camp and to march through the wilderness for many long miles, and the training was bearing good fruit.
Suddenly they heard a sound. It was not a sound that gladdened their hearts or inspired their courage. It was a deep, rumbling sound that came alternately with short gasps, as if of some large animal panting for breath.
The two glanced to the right, to the left, behind them and before them, but saw nothing clearly in the gloom. The sound came closer and they could hear the breaking of branches and the snapping of twigs.
“There!” Felix shouted, as a huge bear suddenly bounded into sight.
The bear had spotted Marcus and sprang toward him, its huge jaws opened, ready to pounce. Marcus froze, all of his soldierly training taught by his father forgotten, unable even to think in the unexpectedness of the attack.
Whoosh! Zing! Suddenly the bear hit the ground with a crash that shook the forest floor. It lay utterly still on its side, its heart pierced with a long wooden spear.
Marcus and Felix stood transfixed looking at the enormous body. But for the intervention of the spear that could be my body lying there, Marcus mused. Felix blinked his eyes, wetted his dry lips, and glanced around.
“Who…”
“I!” boomed a voice nearby. “I slew the bear!”
A large man came into view. He was taller than any man they had ever seen, a full head taller than Marcus, who towered over most men of their acquaintance. Broad and heavily muscled, the newcomer completed this imposing appearance with his choice of weapons. For slung on his fur-clad back was a quiver full of arrows, dangling from his leather belt was an axe with a newly sharpened blade. He carried a large bow, and he sprang to the bear’s body to retrieve the spear he had pierced him with.
With a heavy grunt he pulled the spear from the animal’s chest and wiped it on the ground. He kicked the carcass as if to make certain that the bear was dead; then he turned to the boys.
“Why are you here?” he thundered, a scowl marking his brow.
Marcus took one look at that rugged face with the jutting chin, crooked nose that looked as if it may have been broken (no doubt in another bear encounter! he ventured) and blazing black eyes, and knew he had better give a good account for their presence in the forest. With his tumbled brown hair, massive body, and booming voice the man before him resembled a bear himself, and looked just as wild. His long cloak of bear-skin only added to that impression. Noting that he had addressed them in the Common Tongue, Marcus responded to him in the same.
“We are traveling through Trekur Lende on our way to Gaudereaux. We have business in that country and are anxious to be on our way. I thank you for the service you have rendered us, but we must be off on our journey. Good day.”
“Whoa!”
The bear-like man shot up a retaining hand. The boys instinctively obeyed it.
“Who are you?” he rumbled. “You are in my land. Who are you? Tell me, or die,” and pointed the spear at them.
Felix poked Marcus in the side with his elbow. He inclined his head toward the stranger. He nodded to Marcus. Tell him, he silently advised.
Marcus sighed. After all, the stranger would probably have no idea who they were even if he told the truth. And Marcus had already witnessed what he had done to the bear. It would be nothing for him to dispatch him and Felix with the same ease and speed as he did the great beast.
“I am Marcus Maximus. My friend is Felix Lucius. And as I have told you, we are traveling to Gaudereaux.”
The stranger planted his feet on the ground, and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked steadily at both of the young men, studying them intently. Then he extended one hand to Marcus.
“I am Dag. Dag Adalbjorg. I go with you.”
“No, I cannot permit that,” a startled Marcus exclaimed.
“Yah, I save your life. I take care of you. It is our way,” Dag announced. “First we cut up the bear and take meat. Then we go.”
He no sooner declared this announcement than he proceeded to butcher the bear on the spot, using some long knives he carried on his belt. Dag produced some bags woven from flax from a sack on his back and stuffed them full of the bear meat.
He looked at Marcus and Felix and rais
ed one eyebrow, jerking his head in the direction from which he had come. Reluctantly, they exchanged glances and turned to the bear-like man. He distributed bags of the meat to Marcus and Felix to carry. Then, with the air of one having settled the matter Dag turned on his heel and proceeded to lead the boys through the forest.
Chapter XIII
A Journey Through the Forest
On a winding trail dusted with snow, through the dense undergrowth he led them. The cold was bitter, penetrating the bones. Marcus felt his feet go numb, and occasionally stopped to shake his legs and swing his arms to get his blood flowing.
He noticed that Dag wore some heavy boots covered with the pelt of animal skins. Little wonder these people could survive in such a harsh climate. His own boots of leather lined with fleece, although ideal for keeping out water, did not provide adequate warmth in this frigid land. He wondered how Felix fared and glanced in his direction. Felix pursed his lips and kept his own gaze straight ahead, but said nothing.
Marcus had never seen such a dense forest. All the land he knew in Valerium was cultivated and landscaped with gardens and fountains and courtyards. Even during his captivity in Eirinia he had lived in open spaces of gently rolling hills, with the forest just a border in the background. This wilderness of woods was a novelty to him. He was not sure if he liked it.
For many hours they followed their guide as he led them deeper into the heart of the forest. Hampering their progress was the additional burden of bear meat they carried. Already bundled up to guard against the cold, the bags seemed weighted, a nuisance to fling around on their backs.
But Dag had come to the forest to hunt, he told them. An early thaw had just ended and the thaw sometimes fooled the bears into thinking spring had come. His home was not far away and he could offer shelter for the night.
As they journeyed they soon learned that their guide was not much given to conversation, and what responses they could elicit from him were terse and direct. His vocabulary seemed to consist entirely of monosyllables and he did not elaborate on their questions, answering only the question put to him, but nothing more.
“Not exactly a sparkling conversationalist, is he?” Felix muttered to Marcus under his breath.
Marcus smiled but shook his head. He did not want Dag to overhear. Possibly he didn’t know any more than the basics of the Common Tongue in which they had conversed since their encounter. The boys knew nothing of the language of Trekur Lende, so they could hardly fault Dag if he knew nothing of theirs!
After hiking about ten miles and as the waning daylight was fading to dusk, they at last came to a clearing in the forest floor. The trees thinned out dramatically leaving an open space. Directly ahead of them stood a sturdy wall constructed of logs, and encompassed an area of at least fifty acres, Marcus estimated.
Dag strolled up to the wall and knocked on a gated door. A slat opened and revealed a pair of searching eyes that studied the three young men thoroughly. Satisfied upon spotting Dag, the sentinel opened the door and admitted them.
They entered the gate and beheld some two dozen wooden structures of a curious construction. They consisted of one story buildings that were square but for a steep peaked roof that extended several feet beyond the frame on either side of the house, nearly to the ground. They were constructed entirely out of logs. In a corner underneath the roof of each house hung a curious construction of metal tube-like chimes strung on a wooden bow.
Felix asked Dag why the roofs were so long and flared out on either side of the house.
“The snow falls down the side of the roof so its weight does not pile up on the house. They are long so the snow does not drift the house in.”
“How ingenious!” Felix exclaimed. “What a marvel of design!”
Dag looked at him blankly.
“We are wild men, not dumb beasts.”
A quick grin illuminated his rugged face and he walked on. He led them to a house near the center of the small village.
“Mienne hoss!” Dag smiled with an air of one who has wandered long and finally seen Paradise.
Marcus and Felix exchanged a quick glance before comprehension set in.
“Oh, my house!” Felix muttered before Marcus hushed him.
Not deigning to comment on their asides, Dag opened the door and thrust back an animal skin that hung suspended against it. The skin, he explained, provided extra warmth as it sealed off any drafts from cracks in the door frame.
Dag strode to the center of the room, to a small ring of stones. He proceeded to build a fire using chips of wood he scooped out of a chest carved of pine wood. Using a flint, he ignited the chips and before long a small blaze warmed their hands and feet. Soon Marcus felt a tingle in his limbs as he felt them thaw in the glowing warmth.
“We will eat,” Dag announced.
He strode across the room and lifted a wooden slab in the floor. It revealed a cavity lined with smooth stone of what appeared to be slate. Out of this cavity, Dag pulled what looked at first like a block of ice, but at second glance looked more opaque than ice.
“What is that?” Felix inquired, never letting his curiosity go unsatisfied for long.
“Molke!” Dag answered.
He noted their blank faces.
“Milk,” he ventured in the Common Tongue.
“Milk?” Marcus echoed doubtfully.
“Yah! Good and cold!” Dag cheerily answered.
He took his ax and chopped off a small chunk of the milk. He placed it in a pan of some grayish metal that Marcus had never seen before and placed it over the fire. The milk soon melted and Dag set it aside to cool on a heavy wooden table that was placed against one side of the wall.
Dag produced some small metal spikes that he skewered the bear meat with, and set them over the fire to roast, anchoring them to two wooden trays with carved notches that he set on either side of the fire.
The juice from the meat sizzled and the fire crackled. The smoke from the fire burned the eyes. Felix coughed and rubbed at his eyes. Dag glanced at him, then loped over to a long wooden rod that dangled from the ceiling. He turned it, and the boys felt a current of air in the stifling room. The smoke rose vertically in a slim column, and escaped through wooden slats in a small hole in the center of the roof.
Felix bounded over to where Dag stood.
“May I look?” he inquired.
Marcus joined him and they saw that if one turned the rod one way, slats produced a primitive form of ventilation. When the rod was turned the other way, the slats closed, leaving a solid roof once more.
“Clever!” Felix remarked.
Seeing Dag’s brow darken, he hastened to exclaim, “Oh, but, you are wild men, not dumb beasts!”
At this Dag was appeased, and bestowed a forgiving smile on Felix. He then turned back to the cavity in the floor and produced bread of a darker grain and a rougher texture than the boys were accustomed to eating, creamy butter, and wild honey. These he laid on the table and removed three wooden trenchers from a cupboard in the wall.
He turned back to the fire and removed the meat, filling the trenchers with a generous portion.
“Come, we eat,” he announced.
Marcus and Felix stole sidelong looks at one another. Neither had ever eaten bear before. Neither was sure they wanted to add the experience to their life history.
“I’m hungry,” Felix decided, with a wicked sparkle in his merry eyes.
Perhaps it was hunger, but Marcus found the bear to be delicious, rich and satisfying. The coarse bread was not really to his liking, but the butter and honey he dolloped on it made it palatable. And the milk was cold and smooth. He had not realized how thirsty he was and devoured it in one swallow.
There was no doubt that their host found no fault with the meal. He soon devoured his meal with amazing speed, not pausing for polite conversation. Only once did he offer any comment. Upon biting into his honey-dipped bread, a smile of complete ecstasy broke across his face, and he exulted, “I love honey
, I love honey!”
Felix choked on the milk he was just about to drink, and made a small sound that to Dag sounded like a cough, but to Marcus sounded suspiciously like a snicker. He shot an admonishing glance at his friend. Dag rose from the table to dish more bear meat. Felix caught Marcus’ eye and grinned.
“Just like a bear!” he mouthed in irrepressible glee.
Chapter XIV
The Stowaway
They boarded the small ship. Having trudged for six days through the icy forest with Dag as their guide, it was now possible to complete the remainder of the journey to Gaudereaux by water.
Marcus was never so glad to leave a place behind him as the frozen forest of Trekur Lende. True, the march led them southward so that they escaped the worst part of the heavy snow and ice, but all the same it was no pleasure to camp at night in the winter. Dag added to the construction of their crude tent with the addition of animal skins to their woolen hangings flung over low-lying branches. Yet even with this crude shelter and the pelts Dag provided to sleep on and cover themselves with, and the meager warmth of the campfire, the nights had been cold.
Added to the discomfort was the sound that disturbed Marcus’ sleep every night: a low rumbling noise that seemed to rise up out of the earth itself. The first time he heard it, he was puzzled for an explanation, and looked around in bewilderment for the source. Then he caught the eye of Felix, who pointed at Dag, snoring away, oblivious to all that moved.
By day they plodded steadily on, covering a distance of about twenty miles before nightfall. They subsisted on the remainder of the bear meat they carried with them and several small loaves of the coarse bread Dag had brought along. Too hungry to be particular now, Marcus ate the bread uncomplainingly, glad for its filling sustenance at the end of a hard day’s march. Although, truth to tell he could not say when day ended and night began.
By night they sat around the fire and talked before turning in. They learned much of Dag and his people, their customs and beliefs.
