Too tired and with too heavy a load, Tor trudged downhill in the cold on and off rain. The trail was rocky at times and muddy at others. The weight helped him keep his footing so that he didn't slip. The mud showed clearly the tracks of Gael and Rena. He could tell them apart by their footprints, something his years of training by his father taught him to do.

But he wasn't thinking of the girls. He was thinking of his mother, Nila. She was expecting them soon, before the snow came to the Rine. Tor thought about turning around and going back. Taking that long trail over the mountains and all the way through Gal and then north to reach her. But that was impossible. Very difficult for his father and the others so late in the year, and impossible for him. He cried. Only the rain felt his tears. But he was 15 notches and an adult in his world. The only thing now was to get the girls safe and home. And avoid their being harmed by possible dangers ahead on the journey.

And Tor thought of the spirits, the demons, that crept into his mind as he walked. The spirits of his father and others that he had let down and were no longer of the earthly world, but heavy on his mind. He would have to find a shaman to help him rid himself of those spirits, or they would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Every hour or so, the heavy load of furs and meat became too much. He was sweating and losing sight from the burning sweat running down into his eyes. When Tor would come to a clearing in the forest, he would put down all of his load for a short while to relax and graze in the nearby meadow. Looking for familiar succulent plants and mushrooms to eat to supplement the strips of venison he peeled off and chewed on as he walked. Evenly, so that the weight of both legs was equal on his shoulders. Tor needed a lot of energy to do what he was doing and his brief breaks to cool off, rest and eat provided that for him. The raw venison was tough, so he would chew it for a long time, extracting all the juice from the meat, before swallowing.

But the afternoon waned and the tracks on the trail were no fresher. Tor was getting dog tired. The girls were moving fast and not carrying any load. Probably grazing, too. He would have to catch up with them in the morning. Something he did not want to do. Tor didn't want them out in the wilderness with no protection. There were predators about. And they probably didn't even have a way to make fire. They probably knew how to, but it was hard when everything was wet. He would not make a fire to save time this night.

Tor came to a place where the stream alongside the trail fell off into a deep canyon and the trail continued on the high ground. It was near dark and he didn't want to be looking for a place to bed down after dark. Tor veered off the trail where another, smaller path led into the canyon. A short while later, a cliff wall appeared on his left. Soon, he found what he was looking for.

There was a rocky overhang that formed the beginning of a cave. It only had eroded four or five the length of his feet, but the floor was flat and the overhang protected him from wind and rain. Tor laid out his father's greatcoat and made himself a bed. Thoughts swirled around in his head for a moment about the dilemma he was in, but he was soon fast asleep, slept and dreamed like never before in his young life. Terrible dreams of his father being killed. He fighting them off and losing. Them? Just one old man.  How could he do that? Tor’s dream struggled for an answer, but it didn’t come.

Tor was awakened by the twitter of birds and the sun slanting way too high and late. He muttered to himself as he gathered up everything and started back up the trail to the main trail following the girls. The rain had stopped, but there was a crispness in the air. It helped with his heavy load, but he feared for the girls. He knew they would be cold with what they were wearing when he saw them, just their shifts and their small night covers for summer.

This day was like the last, but without rain. Tor doggedly followed the muddy tracks that were drying up by midafternoon as the wind picked up and his supply of water dwindled in the small goat bladder he carried. The stream was now far below in the canyon. The girls would be thirsty, too, and maybe, without water. His worries grew as he searched for them to leave the trail; a sign that they would be stopping for the night.

It was again near dark when he finally saw the tracks veer off the main track and the tall dry grasses broken and bent, not returning to vertical by the wind. Further on, their tracks were clear in the heavy new leaves and not blown away by the wind yet. He didn't have to go very far before he saw them huddled in the hollow of an ancient tree out of the wind, and perhaps, any rain.

The girls were shivering and very surprised to see him. Gael's eyes lit up and Rena showed a look of contempt on her face. Gael spoke first with what little language they shared. "Where is the old man who freed us?"

That question threw Tor for a loop. He thought for a moment. What would my father do? He had seen his father in tight places where they were outmanned and in danger. He had seen his father lie to get them safe passage and avoid a losing fight. Tor remembered seeing his father lie to his mother upon their return when she asked him bluntly about violence that he had participated in.

"Not now. I will tell you later. I can see you are very cold. I brought you things to make you warm." Tor threw off his load and found the boots and hats that he hastily pulled out of his bag and threw them to the girls to put on. "I have to get a fire going and cook you some food. Do you want any water?"

With the hats and boots on, the girls rushed off to find dry firewood in the very wet forest. There was always dry punky worm eaten wood up under old dying trees and they quickly came back with some so that Tor could get a fire started with his flints. During their long journey, Tor had often started their evening fire so he was very skilled and got a roaring fire going in a short. Big enough to make coals for cooking.

The girls had found a spring nearby while looking for firewood. Tor gave them his clay pot to go drink some of that water and bring it back so that they could make herbal tea from what they had gathered on the trail. Tor set about cutting strips of the venison and placing them over the fire hanging from green branches over the glowing coals. When they had gathered enough wood for the night and the tea was boiling, the strips of meat were seared and they all had a feast that made them warm and sleepy from their hunger, exertion and cold before.

It was tight, but they laid the new deerskin as a bed at the base of the tree and they all huddled in the cavity with the great coat of Tor's father covering them. Even Rena hugged him tight to keep warm, but there was no interplay. Exhaustion and the food and warm drink put them immediately to sleep and they slept like that, warm and comfortable until the sun, once again, peeked through the openings in the forest where the leaves had already fallen.

Tor had to pee, so he momentarily left the girls and entered the chill air naked, tiptoeing over the cold, wet leaves to a place where he could relieve himself. To his surprise, he looked down and saw fresh bear droppings still smoking. A chill ran through him. He finished what he was doing and tiptoed back to the tree where the girls were. All of his senses alert for any sound.

They had placed the remaining legs of the deer up into the cavities of the old tree behind them before going to bed. The bear had dared not disturb them because he smelled their fire and their scent and probably knew that he would have to fight to get the venison he smelled.

The girls had cut two short green walking sticks, but they were inadequate. So Tor moved off into the woods and found two straight tree branches that he quickly cut with his axe half a body higher than the height of each of the girls. He sharpened both ends. The blunt end so that the walking stick could easily grip the ground or serve as an anchor and the other end into a sharp point that would impale a bear that charged. His arrows, as lethal as they were, would not stop a bear charging. The spears that he made for the girls, would.

But the spears were heavy; would become lighter as they dried out. So, when distributing the supplies to lighten his load, Tor made sure the girls weren't too burdened so they could all move faster along the trail. Rena complained about the spear, but Gael hushed her, knowing that those two spears could save their lives.

There was no time to waste. They moved quickly out on the main trail again where Tor saw the fresh tracks of a large male bear. The venison he was carrying around his neck was a magnet for predators and he knew it. If it came down to it, his plan was to throw one of the legs to whatever was stalking them, so they could get away. But they needed food and that was the last resort on his mind.

With the two girls in front and Tor following close behind, he tried not to listen to Rena's bickering in her language as she led the three halfheartedly, and concentrate on listening to the forest, making sure they weren't being stalked. With no words to express how he felt, he rushed up in front of her, glaring, and put his fingers to his lips. A universal sign to keep quiet.

Rena glared back and sullenly accepted Tor's admonishment. After that, she grunted and groaned as they walked along, but no longer kept up her tirade of anger. As a result, they were moving slower than Tor wished. But he could do nothing about it.

Before long, he felt something on his back and knew that the bear was following. He knew that there might be a confrontation soon and they all had to be ready. As best he could from his limited language, he whispered to Gael in front of him, "Bear coming… bear coming."

Copyright 2019 © Ronald W. Hull

6/28/19