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.
They had
little contact with the outside world, he said, because the hunters went to the
forest to bring back meat, and the traders went to the trading post to bring
back the goods they could not make for themselves. Everything else they needed
came from the forest, berries, nuts, meat from the bear, the boar and the deer.
They milked the goats they raised and grew flax for their garments for the warm
months. Furs from the beasts they hunted shielded them from winter’s ruthless
grasp.
He told them
of their homage to Bjorrne, the Bear. It provided for them, he explained. Its
meat sustained them, its pelt helped them to survive the harsh winters. But
they approached it carefully and with awe. For the bear they hunted could so
easily turn on them and devour them. Then they became the prey, and their life
an offering to the bear. On a summer day one could hear the sound of bears
dancing in the thunderstorm, shaking the heavens with their heavy treads.
Marcus
listened politely and said nothing. He dared not venture a glance at
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