Forged in Frost

The Bear Feast

Everyone perks up at the mention of a feast. The men get right to work hauling bears into the centre of town. Townsfolk come out to put together the roasting fire, while others set up equipment for skinning and preparation, tables, benches, and torches at Caius' direction. The buzz of life fills the air, a stark change from the fear of before. Mothers bring out their children to play in the square. A couple of bards appear with instruments in hand.

Most of the men employ themselves in skinning the bears. Women arrive with handfuls of herbs and pots of potatoes, onions, and carrots. Two men arrive with barrels of ale and mead. Evelyn helps with bringing benches and lighting torches until the last is lit. Then she heads down to the lake to wash up before the celebration.

She gazes at the sun setting over the trees. In this one day, Evelyn's whole life has changed. When she'd usually be breaking bread with the servants in the dining hall, she is now scrubbing blood from her hands and hair. She can't stop reliving the fear and excitement pounding through her veins during the battle. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before.

Once she has slipped behind a boat, Evelyn removes her armour, trying not to smear the drying blood from her head onto the rest of herself. She peels off her trousers, shirt, and boots. With these set aside, she runs toward the water and splashes in. At once, it freezes her feet and legs. She gasps when it reaches her chest.

Toes sinking in the mushy sand, Evelyn tips her head back to scrub blood from her scalp, then holds her breath and dives under. She swims away from the surface to the icy, murky bottom. Her long hair drags after her, writhing in the current, leaving behind pale red streaks from the blood rinsing away. She stretches out a moment, enjoying the caress of the cold water, then rises again to the top. Running her fingers across her hair one more time, Evelyn steps from the water. Cold droplets run down her shivering body.

"Evelyn, is this yours?" Leo asks around the boat.

"What?"

A pair of hands appear around the side of the boat, fingers pinching her tunic at the shoulders.

"Yes, that is mine," she says, and snatches it from him. She tugs it, still marked in places with blood, over her head. "And my trousers?"

He appears then, glancing over her. She holds down the front of her tunic, blushing.

"You'll have to say 'please,'" he says, hands behind his back.

"Give me my trousers," Evelyn demands.

He raises his eyebrows impatiently.

"Leo," Evelyn snaps. "This isn't funny." Her legs are cold and entirely nude. The tunic brushes up in the breeze. She pins it down, sighing with frustration. "All right. Please."

He holds out the trousers, and she yanks them from his hands.

"You shouldn't have gone in with nothing but your undergarments," he says, snickering.

Face hot with embarrassment, Evelyn pulls the pants onto her wet legs.

"And my boots, and my armour?" Evelyn wonders.

"Still there," says Leo, pointing to the ground around the corner of the boat. "I didn't steal the unimportant things."

Evelyn pushes past him to grab her other things.

"What?" he sings, laughing. "Can't take a joke?"

"It's not funny." Evelyn goes to the water's edge to wash the blood off her cuirass.

"I wouldn't do that. You don't want the leather to rot."

Evelyn leaps to her feet, gripping her armour and boots, and stomps past him, up the hill, toward the town square. Leo races up next to her.