22. Don’t Divide the Pelt of a Bear That Isn’t Dead
22
DON’T DIVIDE THE PELT OF A BEAR THAT ISN’T DEAD
It took the little group three days traveling at top speed to get to the Dreaming Mountain. When they reached the base, they stopped. By that time Danik and Nikolai were both furious with the newcomer, Iriko, who had assumed full responsibility for the tigers and the journey. Though he was younger than the other men, he was much larger, bolder, and brasher. It wasn’t that they were particularly frightened of him; it just seemed like less trouble to let him have his way.
Iriko also had the ability to communicate with the tigers, and that was worth something, even if the others resented it somewhat. Danik and Nikolai did, however, take great pleasure in blaming him for running out of their carefully preserved stash of meat. Iriko, though in human form, retained a tiger-sized appetite, and by the time they stopped, they were out of food entirely.
Apparently, Iriko, being unable to see the provisions, ate freely, assuming there were more. With nothing left to feed the exhausted tsarinas, and the men, with the exception of the priest, spoiling for a fight, the three others decided to head out in different directions, trying to hunt some game for the tired cats, each man feeling incredibly guilty for their own reasons.
If any of them had ideas about trying to hold Iriko back from wandering off on his own due to his disability, he quickly proved he needed no such pampering. With the heightened senses of a tiger, he lifted his nose to the air and padded off without so much as a fare-thee-well to his newfound companions.
Meanwhile, Zakhar took advantage of the quiet to build up a little fire and spend time making more copies of the prophecy, trying his best to figure out the meanings of various passages on his own. He thought to share it with the others from time to time on their journey, but with tempers raised, a good moment never came. The others were always arguing about something or another. He did take the opportunity to read his work to the napping tigers though. They lifted their heads and blinked, acknowledging that they were listening, though they couldn’t respond without Iriko nearby.
He was deep in his work, catching up on his chronicles of the journey thus far, when Nikolai returned. He’d apparently set a few of Danik’s traps and had been planning to make their camp a bit more comfortable for the evening.
“What are you working on?” he asked Zakhar as he prepared the sleeping furs.
“I’m trying to draw a likeness of Iriko and his mother, but I fear I’m not doing either of them justice.”
“May I take a look?”
“Certainly.”
After a long moment of perusal, Nikolai handed the page back to the priest. “It’s good,” he said. “But you’ve forgotten the most important piece.”
“Did I?” Zakhar said, quickly scanning the page. “I have the cloak here and the fact that he’s wearing no footwear. I’m still working on his musculature, if that’s what you mean. I don’t often see specimens with his, shall we say, bulk.”
Nik snorted. “I’m not talking about his physique. I mean the tiger token.”
Clucking and shaking his head, Zakhar said, “How foolish of me. I was caught up in the emotion of the reunion between mother and son and forgot the purpose for which we were seeking him out. Forgive my disregard. I will attempt to correct my mistake immediately.”
Shrugging, Nik returned to his work. “Isn’t that your true purpose? To repair family bonds and help people find renewed joy in life, whether with one another or with God?”
Zakhar lifted his head and considered Nik’s statement. “It is.”
“Then why feel sorry for doing your job?”
“I... I wish to contribute to the group as best I can.”
“Believe me—if you can help us keep the peace, you are contributing.”
“I’ll try, but... I fear I am failing in that regard as well. I’ve left you to your squabbles and instead have become absorbed in my studies.” Zakhar went back to half-heartedly scratching on the page but then stopped. “Nik?” he asked. “Is there something you’d like to talk about or perhaps some guidance I can offer regarding the infighting between you three?”
Nik sighed. “No. It took time with Danik. It will probably take more time with this one. The weird thing is... if he was a cat, I’d probably get along with him better.”
“It’s interesting, isn’t it?”
“What’s interesting?” Nik asked, dragging a felled log closer to their fire.
“How the new addition has, in some way, bonded you and Danik.”
“I suppose,” he agreed, sharpening Danik’s axe before splitting the log. “At least the hunter hasn’t played any music lately. Seems melancholy because of it too.”
“I agree.” Zakhar bent his head over his paper again, careful to shield it from the light snowfall. After a moment, he called out, “Nikolai?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m afraid I cannot recall what the tiger token looks like. Perhaps you might be able to describe it for me?”
“Why not just look at it when Iriko returns?”
“I suppose I could. But the others...”
“You mean the tokens worn by Stacia and Veru?” Nik shook his head. “I never got a good look at those. I can describe them the way they were explained to me though. It might be better to get the description from the horse’s or tiger’s mouth, as it were, while we have Iriko to serve as a translator.”
“What about the others—the tokens worn by the Death Draughtsman, the man you brought from the forest? Did he show you those?”
“No. But after what Matriova said, I believe he has at least one of them, maybe more. She said they’d been lost to her people. If two of them fell into the hands of the tsar and tsarina, who knows where the others ended up. But from what the Death Draughtsman told me, I got the sense he’d been collecting them.”
Danik returned soon after that with a few birds. He’d placed the rest of his traps, hoping to catch some animals. They had roasted one of the birds and fed the tigers the other three before Iriko returned dragging the heavy carcass of a large deer behind him. Though Nikolai and Danik were happy they’d be able to fill their own bellies as well as the tigers’, they wore unhappy expressions, especially knowing Iriko had left without a trap or a weapon of any kind.
It was a puzzle to Danik in particular, how a blind man with no obvious weapon could not only track and take down a deer but then manage to find their camp again. Lifting his shoulders, he gestured silently to Nik, pointing at the deer. In response, Nik simply shrugged and shook his head, equally clueless, mouthing “I don’t know.”
Iriko paused where he was crouched over the beast and said, “You realize that even if I wasn’t able to use the eyes of the two tigers sitting near you, I’d still know you were talking about me. I can hear you moving your mouths.”
Flicking his long hair back from his face, he added, “Can you toss me a knife, Priest?”
Zakhar said, “Certainly,” but then seemed hesitant to throw it, assuming the tiger who couldn’t see wouldn’t be able to catch it, resulting in an injury.
Iriko sighed and reached over to grab it from his hand, cutting himself in the process. A few drops of his blood fell into the snow, but Iriko took no note of it and began hacking limbs off the deer. “If you want to talk about me, I’d prefer you do it to my face,” he said to the others. “If you can’t bring yourselves to do that, I’ll just assume you’re too cowardly.”
“If that’s the way you want it,” Danik replied.
“No holding back, then,” Nik added.
“How did you track it?” Danik asked.
“With my ears and my nose,” Iriko replied.
“But wouldn’t it run when it saw you?” Nik asked.
“Yeah. But I climb a tree or a hill or hide and wait for it to come to me.”
“What happens if it gores you?”
He held up his hand where he’d grabbed the knife. It had already healed. “No problem.”
“Okay, so how do you kill it, then?” Danik asked.
Iriko shrugged. He pulled out a makeshift ivory knife from inside his vest. It was polished and sharp, and Danik realized he was looking at bone. “Sometimes I use this. Sometimes I just grab them around the neck and hold on until they stop breathing.”
“Hey,” Zakhar said. “If you have that, why’d you want my knife?”
Iriko smiled then and winked, but at no one since his eyes were focused on an empty space. “I can always use a backup.”
Satisfied, but still shaking their heads, Nik and Zakhar helped him carve up the beast and feed the tigers, saving a portion to place on the fire. Danik then openly scolded Iriko about leaving a trail of blood behind him that would attract every predator for miles. Iriko laughed and called Danik a trus and an old grandmother worrier before consuming most of the half-cooked deer roast and climbing halfway into a bed of furs, leaving his burly chest exposed to the freezing air. It only took a moment or two before he began snoring loudly.
Sated, the tigers rested deeply, too, and one by one the other men also drifted to sleep, lulled by a gentle but cold breeze and the twinkling stars overhead. With the hot fire warming their backs and the steady, deep snoring sounds of three large predators nearby, the three average human men felt as safe as anyone could be when sleeping in the frozen Siberian wilderness in the deep of winter.
Unfortunately, they were awoken by the snuffling of something large, with fetid, hot breath, that pawed at the remains of Iriko’s kill, and it wasn’t a tiger. It nudged Zakhar, still deeply asleep in his furs, pressing him deeper into the snow. His eyes flew open as the breath was knocked out of him, and he gasped as he stared down a dark open maw surrounded by dangerous white teeth. Just as he was wondering if it was to be the end of him, the large creature’s attention was caught by something else, and its heavy paw lifted off his chest.
“A great white bear!” Danik cried, throwing off his furs and reaching for his hunting knives, quickly tossing Nik the axe. “Nik, see about Zakhar. I’ll try to distract it.”
As Danik pulled a torch from the dying embers, the tigers sprung to action. They roared and leapt, one on either side, challenging the bear by swiping the air just next to him, barely missing Zakhar, who was being awkwardly pulled away from the bear’s stamping feet by Danik. Then, with a great bounce, the bear was upright, standing on hind legs and bellowing.
The breath came back to Zakhar at once, and it was as if he couldn’t stop himself. He screamed. Panic seemed to invigorate his limbs, and he scrambled away from the bear and the tigers faster than a lightning strike. Within a moment, he was thirty, forty paces away. Then suddenly, he stopped, remembering his precious papers. He was about to head back toward the waning fire, praying that his careful work wouldn’t get trampled, but slipped on an ice patch.
Sliding down a hill, Zakhar tumbled end over end and came to a stop on top of a strangely shaped pile of snow. That’s when he heard the soft cry coming from a dark opening behind a bunch of brambles and branches. He got awkwardly to his feet, his bruised ankle causing him to limp, and headed toward the opening to investigate the source of the cry.
With the men out the way, the tigers felt free to attack. Bloody gashes now appeared along the bear’s hindquarters and back. They heard a scream as the bear managed a savage bite on the golden tiger.
“Veru!” Danik cried. One of her shoulders was torn and bloody.
Then Iriko finally joined the fray. He leapt boldly upon the bear’s back, wrapping his arms around its neck as if to strangle it with his bare hands. It bucked wildly, trying to throw him off, but it couldn’t rid itself of its passenger. Nik wondered where Iriko had been. It was as if he had come out of nowhere. Nik glanced over at Iriko’s sleeping furs, and they were covered with snow. He hadn’t been sleeping in them recently, at least not recently enough to see the bear.
Waiting for his opportunity, Nik, who had slipped on his magic boots and tunic, came very close to the tumult and, finally, thrust his knife up and into the bear’s side. This injury, in addition to all the other attackers, proved too much for the poor, hungry bear, and with a final frustrated bellow, it turned on his heel and ran off into the dark dawn.
Nik ripped off his tunic quickly so they could see him. “I stuck him with my knife,” he said. “I don’t think he’ll be coming back.” His voice trembled as he stared at the knife with blood dripping freely from the blade. He’d helped Danik kill and skin animals before, but they were small and it hadn’t been dark. They hadn’t felt like... like that night...
“It’s a she-bear,” Iriko said. “Show me the knife.”
“What good will that do?” Nik asked, irritated at being doubted and the fact that he still wasn’t in control of himself.
“Just hand it over,” Iriko said. “There’s no time to argue. She’ll probably double back.”
Nik blew out a shaky breath and thrust his knife into Iriko’s open hand, nicking him in the process. The larger man carefully measured the blade from hilt to tip using his thumb and fingers. Nikolai stared at the blood as it drip, drip, dripped onto the white snow. If it had been daylight, all of them would have seen Nik’s face go white at the sight of it. He swallowed. There was so much . It was his fault. All his fault.
“The blade’s not long enough,” Iriko said, flicking the knife so it stuck in the snow at Nik’s feet. “A bear that big, you need a knife deep enough to penetrate the layer of fat. You might have stuck her, but you only made her mad.” His mouth twisted up into a mocking smirk. “This is why you people need to stay on your side of the mountains. Not only do you know nothing about how to survive in the true wilderness but you couldn’t even tell that was a female bear.”
“That’s enough,” Danik said. “You are the reason she was even here. I told you—you left a trail. Any blood that was spilled tonight is something you’ll have to answer for.”
Iriko folded his arms across his mostly naked chest. “I can protect myself,” he said haughtily.
“I’m sure you can,” Danik replied. “But that doesn’t discount the fact that Veru was injured.”
Iriko’s smug expression fell away. As if he could sense exactly where the tigers were, he approached Veru and knelt by her torn shoulder. Veru was licking a paw and paused, looking up at him. Stacia was licking her sister’s injury and whining, but she backed away at Iriko’s approach. Nik could see when Iriko used Stacia’s eyes to assess Veru’s injuries. Iriko had the decency to wince, but then his face hardened, and he waved a hand in dismissal. “They’ll heal,” he said as he stood.
“Perhaps,” Danik said. “But healing requires energy. That means more hunting, more resources. And what about the bear? Is it fair to her? She was just hungry.”
“I, um, hate to interrupt this very important lesson, especially since Iriko really needs to be taught a few things,” Nik said, still feeling jittery, “but I just noticed that Zakhar is missing.”
Danik looked around. “Did anyone see him leave?”
“Good riddance,” Iriko said. “One less mouth to feed.”
When Danik gave him a look, Iriko threw his hands up in the air and said, “Fine! I’ll track him. Just keep in mind, you were the one talking about conserving our resources.”
“I’ll go with him. Will you stay with the tigers and watch camp in case the bear returns?” Danik asked Nik.
Nodding, grateful to be left behind, Nik sent the two men on their way and took his time folding his tunic as he tried to get his thoughts under control. He then selected a much longer knife from Danik’s pack. To his shame, his hands still shook as he sat quietly in the snow, his free hand on the nape of Veru’s neck, as they kept watch. Petting her soft fur as she healed from her wound soothed his soul, and eventually his mental anguish eased.
Not seeing or hearing any sign of the bear’s return, Nik’s eyes fell on Veru’s wound as it knit itself back together. When she was healed, he used a bit of snow to clean the blood from her fur. Stacia sat on his other side, and soon he let the long knife fall. He put his hand on her back too.
As the three of them sat together waiting for the others to return, they each thought of how very far they had drifted away from their dreams and their home and wondered if there was a way to return, and if they did, would they even find a home there, or was it gone forever. What home meant to each of them was different in that moment, but they found comfort in being together, knowing that they all had suffered loss and hardship. It united them in a way and kept driving them toward the same goal.
Stacia and Veru blinked rapidly as puffs of snow drifted lazily around them. Maybe it would be easier to just give up, to consign themselves to live as what they were now. Their eyes stung and burned, but they couldn’t cry, at least not like humans did. Their sorrow just made them feel heavy, like they wanted to lay down and not move.
As for Iriko and Danik, it was fairly easy to track Zakhar. Unfortunately, the great white bear was headed in the same direction. They heard the bellow and began to run. When they found Zakhar, he was at the mouth of an ice cave playing with a small bear cub and cuddling a second.
From the top of the hill where Zakhar had obviously fallen or slid down, Danik sighed and asked, “What are you doing, you glupec?”
“They were crying,” Zakhar replied. “I couldn’t help it. Aren’t they cute?”
“Well, now their mama is returning, and she’s already mad and hungry. It’s time for you to come back. Put down her babies and say a prayer for yourself that she doesn’t come after you.”
“Ah, that’s it. They’re hungry. Danik, can we give them some food?”
“No,” Iriko answered. “We need our food. The mother bear can hunt on her own.”
“Can she though?” Danik asked. “She’s injured now. I think you can do without a meal or two so she and her babies can live.”
Iriko blinked once and then twice, his blue eyes unfocused. “You aren’t like the other hunters I’ve seen. They take and take with no thought of saving. Most hunters would have looked at that bear and seen only the wealth in her fur. But this one”—he jerked his thumb in Zakhar’s direction but missed him completely—“wants to be a kormilica, and you want to feed the mother, who would eat you if you gave her a chance.”
“Yeah? Well, we’ll be feeding that bear an injured priest in a minute if we don’t get him out of there.”
“Um, there’s a slight problem,” Zakhar said somewhat sheepishly as he tried and failed to nudge the polar bear cubs back into their cave. “I seem to have twisted my ankle. I’m not sure I can get up the hill.”
“Fantastic,” Danik said under his breath. Then, shifting his pack off his back, called out, “Hold on. I’m coming down.”
Iriko threw out an arm to stop him. “I will do this for you. Wait here.”
“No, Iriko. Wait!” But Danik’s words had no effect.
With a mighty leap, Iriko was down and standing next to Zakhar. Before the priest could protest, he wrenched the man to his feet, flung him across his back, and with a series of running steps, he was up and at the top of the hill. “There,” he said, yanking Zakhar from his back and dumping him in the snow as if he were nothing more than a sack of potatoes.
“Ow!” Zakhar said in protest, clutching his ankle.
“Er, thanks,” Danik said, helping his friend to his feet. He put Zakhar’s arm around his shoulders, and the two began to hobble back to camp. They’d only gone a few steps when they heard the mewing cry of the two bear cubs, who were making a desperate attempt to follow them.
“Poor things,” Danik said. “You’re right. They’re hungry.” Pulling Zakhar’s arm away and steadying him, he said, “Iriko, hold on to Zakhar for a moment. I’ve still got some meat in my bag.”
Grunting, Iriko rolled his unseeing eyes, but obeyed. He was about to pick Zakhar up again and toss him over his shoulders when the priest protested and said, “Just let me lean on your arm for a moment, would you?”
Danik tossed a bit of roasted deer meat down to the two cubs, who ran after it, playing with it for a moment before ripping it apart and devouring it. “Come on,” he said, taking Zakhar’s arm again. “Let’s get some distance between us and them, before Mom comes back.”
After they returned to camp and Zakhar was settled, getting all his papers in order, Danik asked Nik to borrow the boots. He sped from trap to trap, collecting all of them and any animals he’d caught. Quickly he decided on which they wanted to skin and keep for themselves and which they could spare, and he left a pile of them at the lip of the bear’s cave so they’d have food for several days, then he sped back and removed the boots.
The group took stock of their supplies and divided up the remaining meat, giving the tigers enough for the journey ahead and saving some for later, then they packed up everything and were about to place the boots on the feet of the tigers when Iriko held up a hand.
“The mountain isn’t far from here. This is a magic place. A place for tigers. We don’t know if the three of you will even be welcome to set foot upon it. I think it’s best if you stay here and camp. Or, even better, head back to the nearest settlement and wait for our return.”
“Absolutely not,” Nik began.
“You need me,” Danik protested.
“I think we should listen,” Zakhar said, putting his hands on the other men’s shoulders. “He could be right. What if the mountain rejects us? We’re only human, after all.”
“But my job is to protect the tsarevnas,” Nik said. “It’s my duty. What if they perish there, and I was down here roasting a fish? How could I live with myself?”
Iriko snorted. “Like you could catch a fish.”
Nik’s face went purple. “You arrogant...” He couldn’t help himself; he began chanting a spell, a dark one, one he’d promised himself he’d never ever use, and Iriko’s breath cut off.
“Stop that immediately,” Zakhar commanded, shaking Nik. “You don’t really want to do that, and you know it.”
Nik ceased his spell, and Iriko started breathing normally. Veru glanced up at Iriko and then at Nik and growled softly. Wincing, Nik looked straight into Veru’s eyes and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
Her growl cut off, but it was Iriko who answered. “No harm done. I suppose I deserved it. Didn’t know you were a budding shaman.”
“I’m not. I’m a...” Nik didn’t know how to finish that sentence. “Well, I’m not a shaman,” he said lamely.
“I have an idea,” Danik said. “Since our shaman here has those magic boots, and we’re heading to a magic place, why don’t we let the magic decide?”
“What do you mean?” Iriko said, folding his arms across his beefy chest.
“I mean let’s put the boots out for the tigers, and if they create something for all of us to head up the mountain, then we all go; but if not, then we’ll agree that those of us of a human nature will... stay behind. Is that acceptable?”
Nik shook his head nearly imperceptibly at Danik, not wanting to take the risk, but Zakhar voiced loudly that he agreed, making the decision for them.
“I suppose I can agree to that,” Iriko said.
Danik handed Iriko the boots, and he walked over to Stacia’s head, placing a palm on her shoulder and tracing it down her leg. Then he said, “Okay, boots, you decide: Do you want all of us to go or just us tigers?” Placing one on her foot, he turned and put the other on Veru’s, then stood back and waited to find out what would happen.
This time, instead of a large sleigh, the magic boots created two things long and low to the ground, one was harnessed to each tiger.
“What are these?” asked Zakhar as he clutched his waterproofed bag of precious papers. “What does it mean?”
“I’ve seen these before,” Danik said.
“So have I,” said Iriko, using Veru’s eyes to examine the rigging attached to her sister. “But only with dogs, never with tigers.”
“Of course not with tigers,” Nik replied in a mocking tone. “Like you could put a tiger in a harness.”
“They’re meant for two and two. I supposed that means we can go,” Danik said cheerfully. “Can you drive one?” Danik asked Iriko.
“I suspect the tigers will be doing most of the driving,” Nik suggested. “And don’t get any ideas about me riding with him,” he said, jerking his thumb at Iriko.
“Fine.” Danik said. “I’d be thrilled to ride with you, Mag-ass.” Nikolai glared at him, especially when he heard Iriko roaring with laughter, but Danik just grinned back and turned to Zakhar. “Will you go with Iriko? You’ll sit here on the sled, and Iriko will stand in the back to steer.”
The priest nodded. “I can do that. But don’t you think we need to ask the sisters what they think? Tsarevnas,” he said, nodding to the tigers deferentially, “do you agree to allow us to accompany you up the mountain? The choice is ultimately yours, I should think.”
Stacia and Veru looked at one another, and Veru could see her sister’s slight head dip. She didn’t want to break up the group. Veru felt the same way. They’d come this far together. It felt right to continue that way. To Stacia, the group reminded her of young soldiers sent off on a training mission together. When they endured hardships and learned to rely on one another, it cemented friendships, and they bonded. Perhaps that was the purpose of this journey.
As for Veru, each person was a vital piece. Each added a unique talent or gift. If they learned to work together, there was no telling what they could accomplish.
“Stacia wants you to come,” Iriko said. “She believes the magic of the boots is an indication that the mountain wants us to stay together. And she also said having you along might be of use should they start to fall asleep and begin dreaming.
“Veru says without your help they never would have made it this far. She thanks each of you for your sacrifice and asks if you are willing to go just a bit further. She promises she will not forget your efforts on her behalf.”
The men nodded and smiled, saying, “Yes, Tsarevna,” and, “Happy to serve, Tsarevna.”
“I’ll steer this one,” Danik said. Elbowing Nik, he teased, “Climb aboard, Mag-ass. You’ll be responsible for our supplies.”
Once they were all settled and their bags strapped on, Danik nodded to Iriko, and the young man spoke to the two tigers in his mind. Are you ready to climb the Dreaming Mountain?
I can’t help but notice we have to carry your dead weight , Stacia said to him in reply.
Iriko laughed. I promise as soon as we find the shaman, and we can rid ourselves of these tigers, I’ll carry anything you ask. Besides, after that, the only thing of weight the two of you will have to carry are your heavy skirts and royal head-bashing scepters, right?
That shows what you know about running an empire , Stacia replied . I’d like to see you try it.
What happens if we do start to dream? Veru asked nervously. Your mother said ? —
Don’t worry about that. If it happens, we’ll deal with it then , said Iriko.
Veru said, But you didn’t tell the others that you ? —
Iriko interrupted. They worry too much. Besides, it only affects tigers. At least I think it does. Anyway, your many suitors are going to get jealous again if I’m talking to you for too long. So let’s get going, then, shall we?
Stacia gave a very unladylike snort that caused Danik to run to the front to check on the harnesses.
“They aren’t too tight on her, are they?” he asked Iriko.
“No,” he replied, trying ineffectually to cover a snort of his own. Then, turning to the other two men, Iriko said with a wide grin, “They’re ready.”
“It’s about time,” Nik said with a grumpy expression.
Still grinning, Iriko flicked the reins. Told you so , he said to Veru and Stacia as they began to run up Dreaming Mountain. Jealous!
Shut up, you Irik -tating thorn in my paw.
Just save your breath for the mountain, Your Royalness Queen Anastasia. And while you’re at it. Mush! Iriko quipped, slapping his hand against his thigh.