No, easy, easy. The hunters are not here. Easy.I rubbed his neck, cooing to his frantic mind. He was bound tightly in fright, his senses screaming at him to leave now. Easy.I will go closer. You stay back.
The gelding about trampled me to get back. As far back as he could get, yet still be in eye contact. I walked to the corpse, knelt down in dry viscera and blood, and examined the body. Yes, a female, no doubt. Smaller than an average male Bhaston or human. Whether she was human or elf, I could not tell, for the skull was all that remained, and that had been gnawed upon. The bones thrown about were also bleached white from the sun. One leg bone to the left and one arm were all that held meat yet. That flesh was like jerky. Assuming that my traveling companions had been chewing slash pecking at the arm, I stood to look around. There were no strong tall trees to cradle thebody nearby, just some scraggly tundra pine. They would have to do.
Humming a soft song that I carried in my head, learned from Kenton in druidic classes, I gathered up the remains and the finger and carried them to a pine tree barely as tall as Asdren. Unable to get the remains to lie on the thin bough, I took a moment to dig into my saddlebag to find my spare shirt. Whispering a prayer to Danubia, I bundled the bones into my shirt and fashioned a sling of sorts.
“Lady Danubia, mother of the roots and branches, the sky and soil, the root and rock, we offer this passing soul onto your divine grace. Guide them into your light, my lady of the deep wood. Welcome them into the eternal grove where they will find peace as they move into their next life amid the brush of the wind and the silent trees. So the cycle of life and death turns by your gracious hand. So it shall be.”
I hung the woman on the tree. It bowed under the weight of the bones but held the sling above the ground enough to hopefully please the goddess. I sat back on my heels for several moments, reflecting on this person. Who was she? Did she have family somewhere on these vast plains missing her, mourning her loss, or was she alone in the world like me?
I prayed she had someone grieving her loss. To move through this life without family or loved ones…it made a hole in the soul.
The terrified scream of my horse slid into my thoughts. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Hasulett racing at me, the whites of his eyes showing, foam flecking his chest. I rose and opened my mind to him.
Run! Run!
Just as the first panicked thoughts slammed into my head, I spied the herd of tundra oxen coming in hard and fast. Twodozen at least, perhaps more. I ran to my horse, grabbed the saddle horn, and threw myself onto his back as he charged past.
Lying low and long over his back, I flung a look over my shoulder as the herd of massive beasts engulfed us. I held no anger toward my horse. Something scared him and the herd, and his first instinct was to meld with a large group if danger was near.
I caught sight of a huge shape in the dust the oxen were kicking up. Lumbering along, humped shoulders a sure sign that a rock bear was charging the herd. The low, deep rumble of the massive male oxen filled the air, mingling with the thunder of hooves on hard ground. I took hold of Hasulett’s mane, the reins hanging free, and tried to steer him around and out of the herd. If I could circle back, I might be able to get a shot at the bear before he killed one of the young oxen amid the adults.
Left. Left. We need to cut left.
Run. Run. Run. Run.
Left. Go left. I can kill the bear.
Fear coursed off my horse and the oxen, their terrified thoughts filling my head. With a grunt, I closed down my mind, barring even Hasulett. I gave his mane another tug. He banked left, slightly, but it was enough that we could break from the stampede. He cut a sharp circle of the mass of fur and horns racing along in a blind panic.
The bear had slowed now, its burst of speed spent, as it wrestled an older oxen to the ground. My horse locked his legs, skidding to a stop that nearly threw me over his head. The bear looked up, the oxen’s head in its mighty jaws, then dropped the fatally wounded beast to rise on its back feet. It towered above me even on horseback. I nocked an arrow as the bear began clacking its bloody jaws. I lined up my arrow with its chest. Something small and tawny appeared on my right. My eyes locked on the two cubs running toward the sow.
I lowered my bow, the arrow still sitting on the rest. The cubs joined their mother at the felled oxen. She stood still on her back legs, snapping her jaws loudly.
With a nod, I reached out to her as Hasulett danced nervously under me.
Feed your young.
Her reply was a chuff of warning. I lowered my sight from hers as I touched minds with my gelding.
Hasulett, follow the herd.
He was eager to do so. We left the bear and her cubs to dine. As much as I hated to see beasts killed, this was the way of nature. Meat eaters culled the sick and the weak from the herds to ensure that only the strongest survived. We rode away, leaving the herd and the bears, our goal the pirate city of Quinn’s Quay.
