The Way of the Beast

***

  Halivik took a deep breath of the crisp midday air that early spring offered. He was glad to be home from the village, back to the quiet comfort of his family and the solitude of the forest around them. After a cold season of hardship, he hoped the blue sky and melting snow were promises of better days to come.

  Less than ten days earlier, Baraide had taken a hard fall on the snow-packed path out to their goat shed. There was no one with trained hands to help since old Jonigar the healer sadly went to the sky early in the winter. Irisella became sick again, as she did every winter. Tullgar tripped while loading stones at the Oma-Krin estate and broke some teeth; chances were slim he'd ever attract a woman. The bitter winter caused Halivik's aches to flare more than normal, forcing him to simplify his activities. Some trapping and a few spear hunts were all he could manage.

  Beyond the family misfortunes, Halivik was beset with other troubles. Parts of his sod roof had sagged and leaked from snow weight. Two of his syrup trees dried up. His ox had started limping from age and hoof-rot. A few of the penned rabbits froze to death. One of the goats died while birthing her kid. No, the past season had not been kind.

  What gnawed at Halivik the most was that his son Stenhelt had not yet returned home. He had no idea where the young man was or how he fared, and could do nothing but fret. He saw the same worry in Baraide's eyes, and was barely able to keep her consoled with encouraging words and a brave face. His son had skills beyond most men, and knew a few Makers' tricks as well, but those facts didn't stop Halivik from pacing the floor some nights.

  Luck had turned for the better that morning, however. A large trading caravan had come to Bruvaal late the night before. It attracted most of the local folks and their wares... and their children, and their sellable livestock. Halivik had never been fond of crowds, but he grudgingly admitted that the opportunity - no matter how hectic and crowded - couldn't be missed. The caravan was seven wagons long, and all manner of things were bought or bartered. Despite all of the noise and activity that grated Halivik's nerves, he'd made some good trades.

  During the morning's chaos, Baraide kept to the wagon because of her injured ankle. She had smiles for everyone despite her pain, bargained well with the visiting traders, and sold many more bone trinkets than expected. Caravan tradesmen praised Halivik for his quality leather goods, especially his intricate tooling designs. He used those compliments to haggle for a higher value. Even Tull had done well selling his bows and sturdy furniture. On the short ride home, the family shared smiles that had lately been hard to find.

  While Iri helped her mother inside the cabin and Tull brought the ox and wagon to the barn, Halivik stood in front of his home and took another deep, cleansing breath. That was when he noticed an ox-pulled wagon through the trees. It moved at a leisurely pace out on the South trail, coming from the village. He regarded it with casual interest.

  The wagon was a fair size, but the team of two large oxen hauled it with ease. The sideboards were unpainted, so it didn't belong to the caravan. Nor was it one of Lady Tovira's; all of hers were marked with a large brand. A pair of goats was tied to the wagon, walking along behind it. The driver was unrecognizable - someone wearing a thick fur with a horned hood. Formerly casual interest spiked when the wagon turned off the trail and came up the path.

  Halivik kept a wary gaze as the wagon pulled near and the driver nimbly hopped to the ground. The man was near average size, but the long and bulky bison coat he wore made him appear larger. The deep hood was pulled over and shadowed his face, although a trimmed black beard could be seen. The four stout bison horns attached to the hood gave the man a daunting presence. He walked toward Halivik with a broad smile... a familiar smile.

  Grinning even wider at the bewildered stare he was receiving, Sten held his arms out and said, "Father, did you forget me already?"

  Halivik's eyes shot open in shock. "Stenhelt!" he yelled, and rushed forward to lock arms with his son. He hadn't yet formed words to express his joy when Tullgar bellowed his brother's name as well. They turned and saw the big man running toward them, and both tensed for the impact. Tull gleefully grabbed up his brother from the side and spun in a circle, making Sten's hood fall back. "Tull, don't break him!" Halivik admonished with a laugh.

  "Let me down, you great ox," Sten ordered with a grin. Tull released the crushing hug, but held him at arm's length. He allowed a moment for his older brother to speak, but Tull always had trouble arranging his thoughts on short notice. "By the gods, brother," Sten said to fill the void, "I think you've gotten bigger in my short time away! A herd of bison may mistake you as one of their own." He saw Tull's chipped-tooth grin and added, "What happened? Did you bite down on one of Iri's biscuits?"

  Still fumbling with words, Tull managed, "I tripped." He hesitated as his wide grin faltered. "Sten, your face..."

  "It's called a beard, Tull," Sten teased. "Not as long as yours, but it -"

  With a stern grip, Halivik turned Sten to him. He frowned at the faded slash scars on his son's face, especially the one near his eye that left a gap in his bushy eyebrow. "I suppose there's a good story for that. There better be, or your mother will have your hide."

  Sten saw the lingering concern etched on that weathered face. He put a hand on his father's shoulder and said with a warm smile, "I'm well, honestly." He waited until his assurance eased those deep frown lines before continuing. "I'm sorry if I my leaving caused a burden."

  "I don't give an ox pie about that any more, son," Halivik said, his smile returning. "You're home now. It was a long time away for a trek."

  "I was only gone the winter, father."

  "Your mother won't see it that way. You left in late autumn and came back in early spring. She'll count that as two seasons."

  Their shared smile was interrupted when Baraide called out from the front door of the cottage. "Stenhelt, you come here this instant!" she demanded with tears welling in her eyes. When he approached, she pulled him into an embrace that threatened to squeeze the air out of him.

  Just as Baraide released Sten, Irisella slipped between them and latched onto him. Her arms constricted around his neck and she buried her face in the shoulder of his coat, sobbing words he couldn't quite understand.

  Sten hugged his sister and then peeled her off of him with a smile. He then asked his father and brother to help him unload the pelts, furs and burlap sacks of goods from the wagon. Once inside, Baraide rested her ankle while Iri fetched mugs of acorn tea for them all. Before Sten could set the last of his supplies down, each member of the family was asking about his trek.

  Putting off the vague version Sten planned to tell of his experiences during the winter, he first began handing out gifts. His father was given all of the metal and forged items he'd earned up north in Duuvinhal, although Sten never mentioned exactly where they came from. Halivik was stunned into silence for a few long moments, but then asked how he acquired such fine items. Sten simply told him that he hunted a pack of wolves that was causing a rich man some trouble, and he paid well for them.

  Baraide was shocked to receive an iron cooking pot, four bolts of cloth and wool - all in various colors, and a silver necklace set with a sapphire gem. Sten mentioned that he purchased the necklace in Leuven; impressive news, as none of them had ever been to a large town.

  Tull was thankful for the wood axe, but marveled at the set of metal woodworking tools given to him. Iri was excited to go plant the packet of rare autumnberry bush seeds, danced as she held her new green dress, and gave Sten another hug for the emerald necklace that resembled her mother's. The cottage was full of smiles and laughter.

  Sten then told his father that one of the hitched oxen outside was now his; it was plain that the health of the old family ox had begun to fail since the autumn before. The other ox and the wagon were given to Tull. He'd no longer have to borrow their father's cart - and pull it himself - to haul his wares. The goats were for the family, although Sten placed them in Iri's care.

  Knowi
ng he had a few more items in one of his bags, Sten casually said, "I also have some things here for Annori as well." He let the words linger, waiting to hear how quickly a response would come. When no one spoke immediately, he knew what it meant. Annori - beautiful, impatient, and a touch shallow - decided not to wait for him.

  "I'm sorry, son," Halivik said. "I was wrong about her."

  "Annori accepted the courtship of a young man whose father is the Elder of Huuvik," Baraide explained sympathetically. "The fineries he can offer won't keep her happy. And, besides still being upset with you for trekking off," she continued with a firmer tone as she cast a scowling glare at her daughter, "she now has a hard eye for the rest of us as well."

  "Stupid girl," Irisella muttered.

  Sten turned to his sister. "What did you do, Iri?"

  "Nothing compared to what she deserves," Irisella growled. She sat slumped in a chair with her arms crossed and her thin brows drawn together in anger, unwilling to elaborate.

  Sten, being the only one there who didn't know the story, leaned forward and looked at her with an expectant stare. He knew she'd tell; Iri never held anything back from him.

  "Vendik the innkeeper should be ashamed, having a fool for a daughter," Irisella finally replied with venom in her voice. "I went to the village with mother and Tull, back before the snow got high. The baker's wife told us what Annori did - taking the hand of some visiting boy. And an ugly one at that! She's a schemer. Pride be snowed, she accepted the courtship of a rich man's stupid son while you were away. And not a care if it hurt you, no less! I wasn't going to let that girl betray you and do nothing."

  Sten admired Irisella's fire, but he still hadn't been told the story. "Thank you for guarding my honor, Iri. It means more than you know," he said kindly. "Now what did you do?"

  When she didn't answer immediately, Baraide prompted with a surly tone, "Go on, my gentle young daughter - tell your brother what you did."

  "I will," she huffed. "I went right over to the inn and poured a mug of mead over her head."

  "And then?" Baraide pressed.

  "... And then," Iri mumbled, all the fire in her voice gone, "I punched her face."

  Tull snorted through his nose, then turned away to suppress his laughter. Halivik didn't know if his grin was showing, so he put a hand over his mouth to appear as if he disapproved.

  Sten was surprised. Even though Iri was turning twelve cycles that spring and no longer a little girl, he still thought of her as one. Her features and form may have become a young woman's, but she would always be his little sister. "You did what?" he asked, not sure how to react.

  "When my friend Myalla told us," Baraide said, taking over the story for her reluctant daughter, "your sweet little sister turned without a word and marched over to the inn. Tull followed a few steps behind her, and I was a few steps behind him. I arrived just in time to see my normally carefree daughter hit Annori in the nose, and most likely broke it! The few villagers there at the time all stared in shock, just as I did! Annori was knocked to the floor. She sat there, hair wet with mead and her nose leaking blood, and began to cry. What a mess."

  "It was a good punch," Tull softly added between his own chuckles.

  Sten looked at Iri again and saw that she was trying to suppress her own grin, and completely failing. "And what was your punishment?" he asked her.

  "I have to muck the stalls until the Triad calls my name, as mother put it."

  Sten couldn't hide his smile. "Well, it's all for the best," he announced. "It always bothered me that Annori was... selfish, in certain ways. No husband would put up with that for long." The family shared a laugh with him. Sten silently admitted to himself that while Annori's impulsive decision hurt him, he'd expected it, and the loss wasn't as painful as he once feared it might be.

  The family decided to step outside and take a better look at their newly-gifted animals. Halivik helped Baraide along, with Tull following behind them. Sten waited for Iri at the front door. She stopped next to him and whispered, "I need to talk to you."

  "Don't worry; I'm not angry about what you did."

  "No, not that - I'm glad I hit her. It's... something else I did. It worries me, Sten."