Snowberry's Veil

Part 8

Well, I was caught. I had my bow but no arrows, I was wearing that ridiculous looking pine bough overcoat and shredded pants, bark and cloth wrapped around my feet, and my knife was three strides from me stuck in the attercop's body. I laughed bitterly and replied, "Well I guess we all will some day," then turned to meet whoever that voice belonged to. The language I recognized as one of the many dialects of the beastman language, which I knew just enough to communicate in simple sentences.

It was a raccoon clan beastman, a tall, proud member with a raccoon's clever-looking masked face and brush tail, black hands with nimble fingers and dark legs. I hadn't seen many of their kind, but I knew they were out in the world. They were said to be some of the smarter beastmen, and this one seemed it. He was wearing leather armor that clearly had been made by someone outside their world, adjusted to fit him. He wasn't as decorated as the Wolf Clan beastmen I'd been chased by ... was it just a couple days ago?

He had a spear with a blade for a head, a metal blade as long as my forearm and dangling from it were several tails from what looked to be wolves. He was watching me without fear, maybe a little sadness in his dark eyes. I could see several more moving up behind him with less impressive weapons, stone spears like the wolf clan had.

"You will come with us, human. You will face your crimes."

What those were, I guess I was about to find out, because I wasn't in any shape to fight one let alone several more enemies, and I could tell I wouldn't get far running as there were more coming in from other directions, encircling me. There was no sign of the felpyr, and I was glad to see that. I picked up the voe pelt but I left my dagger in the attercop's eye. It wouldn't be much good anyway.

They led me through the forest, moving up the valley to the ridge and down to another valley on the other side where a creek ran down and was met by several others, forming a small river. We walked for perhaps a half an hour, and I could smell smoke after a short walk into the valley. As we walked, the one I'd first met went in front, but before him two or three roamed ahead, scouting the road carefully. Most of the band was behind me, with spears ready. No one spoke, and I just watched the territory, remembering. I couldn't help myself from memorizing the landscape, the terrain, the plants, the ground, and the rocks. I did so out of decades of being a hunter and ranger, and out of the need to know how and where to go if I needed to run.

The sky was still leaden and snow lightly covered many of the paths we followed, and when we reached a village that straddled the small river, the snow had started falling from the sky again. The village was made up of wooden buildings that were stained a dark color, little decoration was on any of them but I noted there were flowers and plants growing around most of them. A bridge made up of a large building spanned the river, and some of the buildings were actually built up into the trees. I'd heard of elencal who did that, but never had seen it before with beastmen.

We were met there by a small group of raccoon clan, including an old one with furs on his body that were festooned with nuts, skulls, feathers, and twists of dried and colored leather. He was a shaman, or at least playing at one. Beside him were two cruel looking wolverines of unusual size and cunning appearance. They were probably feral wolverines, most likely enchanted by the shaman himself.

Like the wolves that had chased me, they'd be smarter, stronger, faster, and meaner. They seemed to obey him, for they had no leash or restraint, but stayed by his side. The shaman and the beastman who first hailed me spoke a while, and I got the impression he was some kind of leader, maybe even their chieftain. There was a discussion, and the shaman seemed to win, he had a smug expression and the chief looked resigned and a little upset.