The Last Winter Page 7

  “That much we can agree on. I will never be one of your kind,” said Frostpaw.

  After the Sunspear clansmen removed themselves to a corner to tend to their battered leader, Frostpaw remembered Ursara. “Are you hurt?” he said.

  “I am not, but you are bleeding from the mouth. Were you hit?” The youth put his paw to his face and felt blood trickling from his mouth. He arched his lips and bared his fangs for Ursara, who was looking for a wound or cut. “Your fangs, Frostpaw. It cannot be.” Ursara’s voice had a quiver of worry to it.

  “Yes, it can be, lass,” said Ullstag as he came over to the two. “We Bearzyrk have a tendency to change a bit in times of anger or in times of need. It is a curse and a gift we embrace. We all change eventually. Change to something more primal, more basic. There are tales of our kind falling so far to the ice lord’s taunting that they turn into pure beasts, no longer walking on two legs but running on all four. Did you hear the voice, Frostpaw?”

  Frostpaw looked around the room and shook his head.

  “It’s all right, lad. You are not alone. We all hear the voice; we all hear it.” The old bear fell silent and withdrew.

  The Sunspear chieftain gathered up his clan and hollered orders at the top of his lungs. To the rest, he said, “The Sunspear are leaving this den of cursed beasts! Better to die amongst the giants than to risk our lives with this lot. The Storm Speaker has failed us all, thinking that these dogs would be able to aid us in our darkest days.”

  CHAPTER 17

  INTO THE STORM

  HE SUNSPEAR CLAN MADE ready to leave the cavernous hall of the Bearzyrk while the Storm Speaker and Frostvang stood to the side. They, too, had seen the exchange, and they were tired and filled with sadness. Close behind them mocked the grizzled Grymir.

  “You see, Storm Speaker? Our kinds can never be together for long. You cast us out, and when we welcome you into our halls, your people seek bloodshed. I think it is time for all the Pandyr clans to follow the Sunspear.”

  “Elder Grymir,” pleaded Frostvang, “I promised the clans food and shelter for at least the night.”

  “You do not have the authority to offer such things, Frostvang. If you wish to provide food and lodging, I guess you should go help them find some,” he snarled. He turned to the Storm Speaker with a grimace. “Goodbye, Storm Speaker. This will be our last meeting in this life.” Then old Grymir turned to join his fellow Bearzyrk in the hall, and he spoke no more to Frostvang or the Storm Speaker.

  The two stood outside the cavern with the Pandyr clans as they gathered their herds. The Bearzyrk seemed to have mixed emotions about the situation, but they did as the council told them. Swiftly and without a word, they helped the Pandyr and their mounts move out.

  The winds were roaring and blowing like mad, and snow fell in sheets. But none of that mattered to Byorgn. “The Sunspear are leaving, Storm Speaker. You and your pale-skinned devils can go on your own. We will not linger in the presence of the cursed any longer. We’d rather die in Wintyr’s breath than amidst treacherous—”

  “Please, Chieftain,” said Frostvang, “I know a place where all can stay. It is near an area sacred to the Bearzyrk. None go there; none will bother you. I will send a guide to take you there.”

  The Sunspear chieftain eyed Frostvang warily.

  “A guide?” the Storm Speaker said. “So you are to stay here, then, Frostvang?”

  “I am, Dark Beard. I will attempt to reason with the council. I believe there will be little I can do, but I must try.” He looked over at Frostpaw and Ursara. “You are welcome to join me, Frostpaw. I would like a moment to talk to you about some things.”

  Frostpaw stood in the ripping wind, unaffected by the storm. “I do not wish to talk now, Frostvang. I am sorry, but I need . . .” He trailed off and was silent. Ursara came up and put her arms around him, and he held her close.

  The old bear nodded and patted the youngster on his white-maned head. “Very well, Frostpaw. Perhaps we can speak tomorrow when I bring news about the council’s decision. Either way, tomorrow we will know how to proceed.”

  The Sunspear chieftain snorted, spat, and returned to his clansmen. He spoke with them briefly and looked back at the Storm Speaker with a curt nod. It seemed as if, for the moment, the Sunspear would stay.

  The Storm Speaker and Frostvang stood in silence, looking at the sky. “It seems both sides share something in common, Frostvang . . . We are too set in our ways to change. Something needs to happen soon, for Wintyr is here,” said the Storm Speaker.

  “He is, Dark Beard,” said Frostvang grimly. “His whispers grow stronger with every storm cloud . . . I hear them. So does Frostpaw. I will talk to him tomorrow about everything. Tomorrow he will know all.”

  Ullstag rode up on a spearhorn, bow in hand.

  “Ullstag knows the way to the shelter. He will lead you there. Till tomorrow, Dark Beard.” Frostvang turned and departed into the cave.

  Ullstag’s enormous frame filled the cavern’s opening as he spoke loudly over the wind. “Follow me! I know of a place where we will find shelter from this miserable night.” He shifted his considerable bulk and adjusted a large keg he had tethered to the poor beast laboring under his gigantic girth. “I brought some of my mead as well, to help against the cold.” And with a smile, he reined his spearhorn and plunged into the storm.

  ***

  Ullstag led the eight clans a few miles away from the great hall where the Bearzyrk made their home. Ice and fire fell like dying stars across the Tundyr as they rode farther and farther into the storm. Soon the clans noticed strange obelisks and monoliths similar in form to the ones they had seen in the Circle in the Sky, though these were not made of stone and wood. These monoliths looked to be made of solid crystalline ice, and at the center of the formation was a giant cairn. The Pandyr rode by it in silence, looking with suspicion at the strange blue twin of their own circle back home.

  Frostpaw.

  The youth looked up to see who was talking to him. It was not the sinister voice he would hear distantly in his mind, the one that raged and urged him to kill. No, this voice he did not recognize, though something was familiar about it. As the boy lowered his head again, the voice returned.

  Frostpaw.

  The voice was not filled with anger or violent aggression; the voice he heard was strong and deep, and it resonated in his mind. He shook his head and looked at the Storm Speaker and Ullstag. “Did you say something to me just then?” said Frostpaw.

  The Storm Speaker and Ullstag eyed each other strangely. “No, lad, but the old circle we just passed may have something to do with it,” said the Bearzyrk.

  Frostpaw looked over and saw the columns of ice and the tomb that stood in the center. “What is it? Is it similar to our Circle in the Sky?”

  Ullstag answered the boy in a reverent tone. “We Bearzyrk have many traditions that we carried with us from our clans long ago. This area is known as the Circle of the Fallen. It is our burial site for our long-lost brothers. See the mound in the center? That is what we call the Den of the Slayers.”

  “The Den of the Slayers,” said Frostpaw dreamily.

  “It is a place of rest. Inside the icy walls lie the bones of our greatest warriors. It is said that, to some, they speak. I’ve never heard anything in all my years, though. The council has forbidden us to enter. Ah, look here; we are close.” The old bear rode on silently and soon called for everyone to listen. “There, just ahead in the mountainside, is a series of caves large enough to hold your clans for the night, though the animals will need to stay outside if you all are to fit,” said Ullstag.

  Frostpaw walked as if in a trance, and the Storm Speaker saw the worry in Ursara’s eyes. He put his hand on hers and gave it a squeeze. “He will be all right, Ursara. He has been through an awful lot today. Give him time to think,” the Storm Speaker said softly.

  She followed Frostpaw, and they went off together. The Storm Speaker watched them with fondness.

 
“Storm Speaker!” shouted the Hammerheart chieftain.

  Jolted from his thoughts, the Storm Speaker rode swiftly to Thoryn. “What is it? Are the giants upon us?”

  The chieftain shook his head. “Not giants, though I think this is almost as bad,” he said grimly.

  “Well . . . what is it, then?”

  Thoryn whispered to the Storm Speaker. “It is the Sunspear clan. They are gone.”

  CHAPTER 18

  IN SEARCH OF THE SUNSPEAR

  HE REMAINING SEVEN CLANS were silent. The Storm Speaker sat stiffly on Traveler, contemplating the situation. The Hammerheart chieftain was astounded. “How did an entire clan leave our group without our knowing? What’s worse is that in this blizzard, an army of giants could have walked up on us and taken them, and we still wouldn’t have known!”

  Ullyr rode up on Dawnstrider and reined her in. “With this wind and sleet, it is no wonder we didn’t see anything. Even the Jadebow missed this. I fear had we not stopped for shelter, we could have gone the whole night without noticing.”

  The Storm Speaker turned and faced the group. “The circle is breaking . . . . We have no way of surviving without the Sunspear’s and the Bearzyrk’s might. We must get every Pandyr and Bearzyrk to unite if our people are to survive. Alone, on our own . . .” The Storm Speaker trailed off.

  Ullstag spoke. “I know these flatlands well; I know the places to seek shelter. I will go find them. It can’t be too hard. A whole clan cannot just disappear! At least, not from this old sniffer,” he said, placing a long, clawed finger next to his weather-worn nose.

  “You’d better not go, old one,” said Ullyr. “Byorgn is barely peaceable to his own kind. I wouldn’t put it past him and his clan to attack you in vengeance for the night’s earlier events. It is better that my fleetest riders and I go. As you say, it is a whole clan. Even in this weather, it shouldn’t be too hard for a Jadebow to track them.”

  Thoryn rode up awkwardly on his elkhorn. “And the Hammerheart will send its finest hammerers to aid you. There are giants about, you know.”

  The Jadebow chose his words carefully. “Nay, Chieftain, I must decline your offer. On this night we must ride swiftly, and we must ride silently. You and your Hammerheart are not the riders that the Jadebow are.” Thoryn started to protest, but Ullyr put his hand up to quell the red one’s ire. “Just as the Jadebow are not the warriors that the Hammerheart are. Were this a stand-up fight, there is no other clan I would want by my side.”

  The Hammerheart nodded his head and chuckled. “You are right. The Hammerheart will wait here and let the Jadebow do what they do best.” Thoryn thrust out his reddish paw, and Ullyr’s tawny paw joined it in a shake.

  “Watch my clan for me till I get back, will you?” the Jadebow said with a grin.

  “Aye, I will,” said Thoryn. “Just so long as you watch your back. We need your arrows, you old jaegyr hound! Go! Ride swiftly, my friend.” Thoryn swatted Dawnstrider hard on her rump, and the golden elkhorn snorted and jostled her reins. Then the Jadebow chief and eight of his riders were off.

  After a few moments, the Pandyr were in the caves, preparing for the night. Watches were set, and what little rations remained were halved again and devoured. Ullstag rode up to the Storm Speaker. He was about to speak when he was abruptly hushed by the Dark Beard.

  “Please make sure Ullyr and his riders return. We don’t dare lose Ullyr as well.”

  The old Bearzyrk laughed. “I’ll bring him back, Dark Beard. Don’t you worry. I won’t lose them on the same day I found them.” And with that, Ullstag turned and went into the storm.

  CHAPTER 19

  THE NINE DAUGHTERS OF THE STORM SPEAKER

  HE NIGHT GREW. THE STORM outside was unrelenting, and the bitter cold was grueling to those trying to find sleep in the caves. The only comfort they could muster was that it must be warmer here than where Ullyr and his brave riders were.

  The Storm Speaker sat at the front of the cave, oblivious to the weather. Frostpaw sat sullenly across the chamber. “Why did you not tell me there were more like me, Father? My whole life, I was alone, an outcast to everyone save you and Ursara. Had I known there were more like me, I . . .” He trailed off.

  The boy was almost in tears, and this tore deeply into the Storm Speaker’s heart. He walked over to Frostpaw and sat next to him. “Did you know that I had a daughter before Ursara, Frostpaw?” Frostpaw wiped his face and shook his head. “I actually had many daughters over many years. And all of them were beautiful; all were perfect. They grew into fine Pandyr.”

  Frostpaw sat up straight and looked at the old one. “Where are they now?” he said. “How come I have never met them before?”

  The old one looked at Frostpaw with such sorrow that the boy started to cry. “Frostpaw, the reason that you have never met them is . . .” The Storm Speaker shook his head and wiped the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “The reason is that they all are gone.”

  “Gone? Gone where?” The boy felt stupid as soon as he said it.

  “They have long passed from this realm and now travel the realms of another world, if there is one,” the Storm Speaker said grimly.

  “Oh,” was all Frostpaw could think to say. “I’m sorry, Storm Speaker.”

  “To one such as me, the happiness that love brings is merely a counterpart to the sorrow it leaves. It is something that I have long learned to live with. I would meet a fine woman. Eventually we would fall in love, and then, as it happens, we would have a cub. Eventually the wives would tire of my ways and leave me for some far more stable Pandyr. I never blamed them. But the cubs, the cubs always wanted to stay with me.”

  He smiled at the memory, and Frostpaw wished that he, too, could see these children of the Storm Speaker.

  “Ah, my little girls. I always had girls. I would watch them grow, and eventually I would watch them marry.” He looked outside at the roaring storm, lost in thought. “For some reason, they could never have little ones of their own. They would grow old, and eventually they would die. I have buried eight of my cubs, Frostpaw.” The old man started to choke up. “I have buried my eight little girls whom I brought into this world. I’ve had to watch them all die.” He looked back to where Ursara was leading their mounts down a side cavern, and he spoke softly. “Just as I will watch Ursara die one day. I will bury her, too, next to her sisters. My daughters were eight before Ursara; she is my ninth, my last one.”

  The old Pandyr took a deep breath and smiled a bit. “When I found you, I was immediately impressed with your heart. You were such a sweet child for one supposedly born under a bad omen.” The Storm Speaker waved his hand as if dismissing the notion. “Bah! You have been a wonderful son to me. I’ve had many nights when I tore myself apart for not telling you of the Bearzyrk. You see, I grew to love you very much, as much as any of my own blood. I’d never had a son, Frostpaw, and for some reason, this island gave me the opportunity. There was always the thought that one day I would take you to them, but the longer we were together, the more I could not bear delivering you to the Bearzyrk as I had done with so many others. I thought that, of all my children, you would be the one who would grow old with me. With the long lives of the Bearzyrk, I figured that I would not have to bury another of my children. And I am growing old as well. It was some comfort to know that when I passed from this realm, someone would be there to see me off. Someone whom time would not take from me so easily. I was being selfish, and I am sorry, my dear, dear Frostpaw.”

  The boy felt grief well up in the Storm Speaker, and he moved to his side. “I will always be with you, Storm Speaker, and with Ursara. You are my family, and should the time come for you to bury—to do that again, I will be there to grieve with you.” Frostpaw hugged the Storm Speaker with his powerful arms. “Good night, Storm Speaker.”

  The Storm Speaker hugged the lad back. “Good night, my boy.”

  Frostpaw smiled and left to find Ursara.

  Had father or son known that this would
be the last exchange between them, neither would have changed a single word.

  CHAPTER 20

  LAKE OF FIRE

  LLYR AND HIS RIDERS rode steadily across the Tundyr. The storms of ice and ember made seeing difficult, but Ullyr’s keen senses managed to pick up the Sunspear’s trail. Even the tracks of an entire clan were nearly obliterated by the roaring winds. Suddenly, Ullyr breathed deeply and chuckled. He held his arm high, hand clenched in a fist, and his riders stopped. The breaths of both mounts and riders froze in the air.

  “We have company,” said the Jadebow chieftain.

  Some distance behind them, a figure emerged from the driving storm. Ullyr laughed, and the Jadebow waited for their visitor. From the swirling darkness, Ullstag, all eight hundred pounds of him, appeared through the snow, riding a laboring spearhorn. “The storm is strong. See how my noble steed wearies under its force?” The old bear heaved up his keg and took a tremendous pull from the barrel, wiping away the froth from his beard. “Care for a nip? I threw in a few bits of the Dark Beard’s honeycomb for added punch.”

  “No mead for us, Ullstag. We must find the Sunspear, though I grow worried at the chances of finding them in this storm. It appears that the tracks stop here, at this frozen lake.”

  Ullstag tapped the lake’s icy crust with his bow and urged his spearhorn across the surface, not allowing the big beast much room for protest. “Don’t worry. This old ice is a foot thick at the thinnest points; it’ll hold. Mind your goats, though. Their hooves were not made to traverse this terrain as easily as a spearhorn’s.”

  The Jadebow exchanged leery looks with one another. “Do you have any idea where you’re going? Where do you think they are, Ullstag?” asked Ullyr.

  “I know of some old fishing lodges that we use when land food isn’t available. Another mile or so, we will be upon them. If I were a wandering clan caught in a whirlwind of ice and fire, those little huts would seem like a mother’s arms. Come, follow Ullstag.”