Iorrjaer

Chapter 4

Yophiel woke up again and this time the camp was awake and busy. Barsabel and Graphiel were cleaning up the pots and pans. Bethar was sitting idly around, loitering with his dirty hands and feet resting on the outside of a pot. Kârael was at the wagon, getting it and the mule prepared. Probably stealing or sabotaging the reins or the wheels or whatever elves do. Shedmoth was helping...

Her mind split with an instant headache. Part of her mind was curious to what the large human and the pig were doing. Why were they sitting around bones and three dead animals hanging above them? The other side was upset. Angry to see a human and a pig working together. She felt conflict in her mind as the two sides vied for control. She felt her own reasoning give in to the stronger force and before she knew it, she was marching towards where Häsmæl and Shedmoth sat. It was clear from the dishes and the looks on everyone's face that he had clearly eaten all of the food himself and left none for her or the others.

"You ate both?" Yophiel asked Häsmæl disgustedly, standing before him. "What about everyone else?"

Häsmæl did not look up from the antlers and bones that he was carefully rolling up into a hide blanket. Shedmoth was wrapping up fresh cuts of meat, heavily salted, in another hide blanket. Where Häsmæl's blanket was rough and furry, to protect the bones from impact along the way, Shedmoth's blanket was clean and oiled bare hide.

Häsmæl took a piece of antler that was about the size of his tusk, placed it next to his tusk to show her its size, then handed it to her.

"What do you want me to do with that?"

"He's offering you a weapon." Bethar said, now standing and leaning against the pot. His forearm tattoos glowed dimly, and the water kept a simmering boil.

"Why would I want an antler?"

"For whatever you can imagine."

"No, I don't want your stupid tusk."

"Not a tusk." Bethar said. "Tusks are what are protruding from his lower lips. That is an antler from the stag. Could work as a utensil or as a weapon. Whatever you want."

Yophiel studied the antler spike and rolled it around in her hands. She could not make sense of it as a weapon and threw it at Häsmæl. The conflict in her mind was back and it wanted to accept the spike but the other side was not having it.

He let it hit him and then caught it before it hit the ground. He shrugged and put it into his blanket. He started to move towards the wagon but Yophiel got in his path. Despite being up to his hip, she stared hard up at him.

"I said, I don't want it. Stupid pig. Dump that blanket and make yourself useful - go harness yourself to the wagon. The mule needs a break. Put that blanket down and go do what you are ordered to do."

"Yophiel," She heard Graphiel say but she ignored him. She heard him repeat her name and she ignored him again but she was not having an easy time.

She scoffed and turned away from Häsmæl when she saw that his eyes did not show any fear of her. A memory of him fighting the bear flashed in her mind and shook her bodily. She reacted as if she had never realized his size, quickly stepping aside, and keeping her eyes down in shame. Häsmæl passed by her without a grunt and she sighed in relief.

She looked around at the camp, saw the carcasses on the ground and watched as Shedmoth gathered them together to carry as one large lump. She wondered who he was waiting for and then saw Häsmæl on his way back.

This was insane. Three dead animals? "What happened to those animals?"

"He ate the stag. We ate the doe. There's some here for you. You'd better eat it before it goes bad." Barsabel said, breaking the clay on her arm and shaking off the bits as Graphiel picked up the pot and carried it off to pour out. She inspected the pans and pots curiously and gave Graphiel a nod of approval. He placed the rest of the cast iron dishware into the large pot and carried them back to the sturdy mule. "We saved some for you." She repeated.