CHAPTER 8 (The Yaakmen of Tyrie)
The noontime sun shone brightly over the Great Meeting Hall as the representatives chatted and argued politely over the morning’s business.
Ruma rose and held forth his hand. “Let us begin again. The day grows short and we have a great deal to discuss before evening. Let us now turn to the honorable Tharmstron, who has graciously accepted Master Druiden’s invitation to address the Council, although he has gone to great lengths to caution me that his speech’s merits can only be judged by the Council itself.”
Tharmstron rose from his chair, tugging his green robe awkwardly over broad shoulders. “Esteemed representatives, I would first like to thank the Council for allowing us this time to speak. My young comrade Ruppon and me will try not to take up much of the Council’s valuable time. And I apologize for our crude speech, because as you all know, we are an uneducated people, yet perhaps I will be the last generation to be so.” He nodded graciously toward Druiden and Porrias.
Dumas’s eyes gleamed. “Judge not the manner of a man's speech but the content of his argument.”
“Well spoken,” Ruma said. “Now, please continue, Master Tharmstron...”
“Trappers, by their nature, roam far into the wilderness searching for new and untapped areas full of healthy game. The educated scholars of Adair know this well and have formed an alliance with us trappers to share information of the lands we’ve traveled in return for maps and teachers to instruct our young.
“These maps have proved useful to the men and women in my profession, and also to Yaakriders, who hunt far into the wilderness and even to the south, below Lake Adair’s western bay.” Tharmstron turned to Carathis and Quintar, who acknowledged with polite nods.
“In late summer of this past year, I journeyed to Adair on business. There, I had the honor of dining on fresh Quidida with Master Druiden in his home overlooking the Bay of Adair. As we ate, I told him a tale that had been told to me by a group of trappers who our party met at an outpost located to the east of Norelda on the wilderness’s edge.
“Indeed, the story was strange, yet as with other tales told and retold at campfires all through the wilderness— and if the truth be known, most of these stories are flavored with Jenna— we trappers accept these tales as questionable, at best.”
The representatives chuckled.
“So as we ate, I laughed, and retold the story to Druiden and apologized for wasting his valuable time.
“But the wise Druiden was not amused. He listened to the tale with great earnestness, and I saw in his eyes a glow of serious thought. He asked me to seek out the tale’s source, and if I found truthfulness in its claims, present the story to the Council of Representatives.”
Tharmstron paused, inhaling deeply. “My esteemed council members, I have not only spoken with the source, but I have brought him here to tell the story in person.” He turned and placed his hand on his young companion’s shoulder. “I present the trapper Ruppon.”
Tharmstron sat and motioned Ruppon to stand.
The young trapper rose, his eyes darting to each of the council.
“Please begin, young man,” Ruma said. “The Council is eager to hear your tale. We are not often prepared in such a tantalizing manner.”
“My name is Ruppon,” he began tepidly. “My family’s been trappers for generations. I grew up at outposts all through the wilderness. Like most of us trappers, I don’t call any one place my home.
“In early spring of this year, just after the river retreat, me and my older brother Jarem and five Breva entered the wilderness southwest of the trapper outpost that Tharmstron mentioned before. We wanted to get to a small valley between two mountain ranges almost straight east from Adair. The valley’s cut by a river branch coming into Lake Adair from its eastern arm.
“Us trappers like this route in the spring. The river is mostly without rapids, and it’s easy to run hides by boat to the lake. There, we can sell them to the merchants in Adair or peddle them right in Adair’s markets. Either way, a trapper can earn some good credits.
“Jarem and me drove the Breva up the steep ground to a pass between the mountains. Some of you might not know that a Breva is a crossbreed between a Zampha and Mathran. We trappers like this cross, because it has the strength of a Zampha and can climb like a Mathran, which can come in handy when trapping in hilly country.
“It took us a half cycle of Ellini to come down into the valley from the north. The days were bright and there were good signs of game. And we wasted no time setting our traps for the Camorr and Alem that roamed the river retreat marches and stream basins of the valley. Jarem and me camped close to our traps because we also tracked Pinthra.
“One night, we used Alberon’s bright light to prepare our skins for packing. There was no breeze, and I remember the smoke from our fire drifted straight up into the branches of Sohla that surrounded our campsite. Jarem found a wild pig in one of our traps, and we roasted it. All I remembered hearing that night was the crackling of Olaf in the fire and pork sizzling on the spit, until….
“Without no warning, our Breva became restless, yelping their high pitch whine and pulling on the ropes that bound them to the trees. Jarem and me dropped our knives and jumped for our crossbows. We pointed our weapons into the dark shadows between the trees.
“Pinthra? I whispered to Jarem.
“No, he said. It’s too early, and Pinthra don’t like a big fire.
“Before I could say something else, we heard a man’s voice call from the woods.
“I must beg pardon for annoying your animals, said the voice.
“Jarem held his crossbow firm. Who are you? Come forward and show your face. Don’t you know that men who sneak up on a trapper after dark risk being split by an arrow, without no questions?
“I know, said the voice, because I was once a trapper like you. But I’m very hungry, and I haven’t talked with another human in two years.
“Through Alberon’s light, I saw a figure creep out from between the trees.
“I’m alone and unarmed, the man said over and over.
“A weak and haggard man stepped into the firelight. His shoulders were stooped, and he had long, gray hair and a scruffy beard. His coat and boots were ragged, and his shirt and trousers were tore. On his back, he carried an old skin pack. Later on, my brother and me both agreed that he looked like a man who had wandered the wilderness for a long time.
“My name is Darros, the man said. Can I make camp here and share your pig and some Jenna, if you might? I’ve not tasted Jenna for as long as I can remember.
“His wild eyes shined at the idea of Jenna and pork. My first thought was that the man was crazed, so both of us kept our hands near our bows.
“What brings you to this valley? Jarem asked. And if you are a trapper, where are your traps?
“I said that I was once a trapper, Darros said, pulling off his pack. Now I’m just a wanderer. I have no home.
“Why did you leave the settlements? I asked. Why would a man not seek others for such a long time? Are you a criminal? I let him see that I had a crossbow within easy reach.
“Darros walked to the fire, shaking his head. So many questions, he said. I’m very hungry and thirsty. All the time, his eyes never left the pig.
“We don’t starve fellow travelers, Jarem told him. Then my brother cut a slice of pork and handed it to the stranger. The man ate like a crazed animal.
“After he ate a good part of our pig, he tried to explain his past. Yes, he said, I was a trapper. I lived at an outpost near Norelda. I’ve trapped most northern and southern routes, including this one. I gave up trapping two springs ago, deciding instead to roam the wilderness away from men and their ways.
“Darros gave us a look of disgust when he mentioned others, and I gave my brother a quick look. Jarem just shook his head— we both knew the man was not telling us all the truth.”
“Master Tharmstron,” Councilwoman Charon asked. “Have you any c
onfirmation, this man Darros was once a member of the trapper community, as he had told young Ruppon?”
“Yes, Councilwoman Charon,” Tharmstron replied. “After the honorable Druiden asked me to investigate this story further, I talked to others at the Noreldan settlement that Ruppon spoke of. Some say, a man calling himself Darros once trapped from a northwest outpost, but he had not been seen in over two years.”
Tharmstron scowled. “More importantly, this man Darros did not choose to leave the trade, he was banished for thievery! I believe this is the same man.”
Ruma lifted his hand softly. “Well, let us continue with this tale. Young man...”
“As the night wore on, my brother and me warmed to the wandering stranger. He ate his fill of pork and drank a good share of our Jenna. As his hunger went away, he started to talk wondrous tales of his time in the wilderness.
“He talked of traveling north and east, and up and through the high mountains, where the air was thin and huge mountains of hard ice melted into deep, blue-green pools, even during summer’s heat. And he talked of a barren pass, where game was scarce and hunger nearly killed him. On clear days, he said, he could see mountains so high they touched the sky in never-ending rows of peaks and slopes.
“He barely survived the pass and followed a stream down to a basin that emptied into a bigger river running almost due east. He said he didn’t follow the river right away, but he stayed near the river’s bank the whole summer, hunting and fishing.
“There was plenty of game, he said. And he found at least nine Yaak tribes. He figured about a thousand beasts lived in this one valley alone.
“When winter came, he built a small cabin near one of the Yaak tribes on a plateau overlooking the river. The Yaak didn’t pay him much attention, except for one day, when three of the older female Yaak stopped by. He’d guessed they were just curious of the cabin he’d built.
“They took a good look at me and my cabin, he said, probably just checking to see if I was dangerous. He laughed. Otherwise, they just left me alone. They acted as if I wasn’t even there, he said… strange beasts.”
“When spring came, he built a hollowed boat and waited for the river to retreat. Then he abandoned his cabin, entering the river flowing east.
“He told us that he floated down the twisting river for many cycles of Ellini, stopping when he found good hunting grounds or when he just grew weary of traveling. By the stars and sun, he noticed the river twisted southeast, then south, and even southwest for awhile, passing through steep canyons and barren hills.
“Eventually, he told Jarem and me, the river opened to a marsh so big that it took many days to cross, and that large serpent-creatures lived in this marsh, so terrible, he spoke of them little.”
The representatives murmured.
“Darros said that the marsh ended in a huge lake. And upon crossing this lake, he found the river again and then continued southward.
“This stretch of the river contained many rapids, but Darros also told us that the hunting along this rugged shore was the best he had ever experienced, thus making the perils of the waterway somewhat bearable.
“Taking his time, Darros eventually made his way downriver. One day, he saw a colony of birds feeding in the shallows below a high riverbank. This made him wary, as he had come to learn that birds often fed just above the beginning of rapids or falls.
“He said, the air was thick with dew, and he heard the dull sounds of water in the distance, so he pulled his boat to the shore. He walked through the woods to the river’s head. There, he said, the forest opened to bare rock.
“Darros described to my brother and me, a waterfall higher than he had ever seen in all his years. The water fell in two tiers: the first he could see below, dividing the river into many streams; the second falling into a valley, he could not yet see.
“Words couldn’t describe the view of that valley, he said. Two mountain ranges towered on either side, and the basin spread out to the southwest beyond his sight. From where he looked, the river pooled at the bottom of the falls, twisting down the valley’s center.
“It took him two days to climb to the bottom of the falls and into the valley below. He described the land as green and full of game, and he spent many cycles below the falls, fishing and hunting.
“This man Darros told us that he would have been happy to stay in this valley forever, if he didn’t come upon what he saw next.”
Ruppon paused, glancing over the transfixed representatives.
“Just a day down the valley from the falls, he happened on a clearing above the flood bank. Strange, he thought, because he had never known Yaak to clear land in this way. The path through the clearing appeared to have been made by men. He followed the path into the forest, where he found a small cabin made of timber and thatched reeds.”
The council members began to murmur. Some shook their heads while others openly expressed shock. Only Dumas sat expressionless, staring at Ruppon.
“The cabin appeared to be built for four or five men. The beds were crude, made of Sohla branches and Payet leaves. Darros thought the cabins were not made sturdy enough to keep men safe in winter. He also said that it looked like no one had been there since the previous summer. When he walked farther away from the river, the path opened to a wide clearing. Here, he said, he found a number of fire pits surrounded by forty cabins.”
Carathis sprang to his feet. “Forty cabins! This suggests over a hundred individuals. Who are these people and where did they come from?”
“Can we not trace our ancestry back five or six generations?” Charon asked. “Do we not have census information?”
“Yes,” Druiden replied. “The scholars of Adair have taken census for over twenty years.
Pincar asked, “Then, can we not account for the loss of such a group?”
“As you all know,” Druiden said. “Men or women may be banished to the wilderness for a variety of reasons: murder, rape, thievery, subjugation. But banishments are rare, and only two women in our history have been exiled, and from all accounts, those women were beyond child-bearing years.”
“Of course,” Charon said. “I follow Master Druiden's thoughts. A group this size would have required women, if they wished to last more than a single generation.”
The others chuckled yet only briefly.
Druiden turned. “Master Tharmstron, our census of the trapping community has never been complete. Could a group of trappers have become lost, or could they have deserted our lands for some reason?”
Tharmstron rubbed his chin. “Trapping is a dangerous business. And many brave men have been lost and have lost their lives in my trade. And some have been banished as thieves or worse. But our community is small, and I’m certain that if a large group of trappers had abandoned the Valley of the Confluence, it would have been noted in our tales or song. I have asked the old and wise at all of our outposts, and they know of no such tale.”
The representatives spent a moment to talk among themselves.
“Please, fellow representatives,” Ruma said. “Let us not forget this tale was authored by a verified thief.”
There were a few murmurs and nods of agreement around the table, including Tharmstron.
“Nonetheless, we should hear the remainder of Ruppon's story before deciding its merit. Please continue, young trapper.”
“Darros searched the camp, but found nothing to give him a clue of who these men were, or what they were doing in this valley, or even where they came from. But he did tell Jarem and me that he thought these men were hunters, not trappers; although he did not give us a reason why he thought so.
“Also, Darros didn’t tell us why he left the valley and returned to Tyrie. When we asked him outright, he shrugged his shoulders or changed the subject.
“Darros stayed with Jarem and me for almost a full cycle. As the days passed, he told us more and more of his adventure, of which I told the Council just a small amount. He worked hard, helping us with the tr
aps. He even hunted fresh game for us to eat. Day by day, he earned our trust.
“Jarem was taken by the stranger, and they talked often of adventure. Darros spoke of returning to the valley of the Great Falls, and my brother listened with great interest. One day Jarem told me that he’d decided to go with Darros into the strange lands. He asked me to return to Adair with the furs we’d trapped and place his profits aside until he came back.
“I tried, but I couldn’t talk my brother out of leaving with this man. Jarem was always interested in adventure and the unknown. So I bid him farewell and told him I’d return to Adair. Jarem promised to return before the first sign of fall.”
Ruppon glanced downward. “Honorable representatives, it is near winter and my brother hasn’t returned. Jarem is a strong man and experienced in ways of survival in the wilds, but after learning of Darros's criminal past, I fear for my brother’s life. So I now pledge, if he does not return between now and spring, I will venture forth into the wilderness to find him, alone if I must. This is the least I owe my brother. I thank you for hearing my tale.”
Ruppon bowed and returned to his seat.
“Thank you, young man,” Ruma said. “And now I must ask an important question. Do you think this man was telling the truth? Or do you think this tale was born in this criminal’s imagination? What does your heart tell you?”
“I and my brother believed the man was truthful, except for his reason for leaving Tyrie.”
The merchant Pincar asked, “Then why do you not think he might lie about finding the village of men? Perhaps he spun this tale to regain favor with the trapper communities and petition to end his banishment.”
“I can explain my feeling in no other way, honorable representatives.”
Ruma turned to the young Adairian scribe. “Master Porrias, Druiden tells me you are knowledgeable in the ways of maps and their history. Can any of this man’s stories be validated?”
Porrias stood before the Council. “Much of the story Ruppon recounted is consistent with our sparse knowledge of these lands. I have spoken to men who have heard tales of an expansive valley located over the great dividing ranges to the northeast of Norelda— although none of these men themselves have ventured through the mountains and returned.”
How Teddy Roosevelt Slew the Last Mighty T-Rex Page 29
