Blood of My Brother

Untitled Part 1

The escort to the beach was nothing less than an informal banishment from the grounds of King William. The Joutone leader had claim on these shores and every thing to the cliffs, with no one remotely interested in a challenge for the territory. There was little choice when continuing towards the European passages, the sacred lands were a necessary detour. If the descendants of Sasquatch ever wish to have a place in modern society, they would need some formal religious training, and it was Pastor Jean-Richard's personal mission to bring it to the reclusive warrior race. Following carefully in his father's foot steps, earning the trust of the Joutone over decades. Like his father before him he now had a merry band of followers to keep him protected and make for easier introductions.

King William was not a willing ear, but his territory was a major trade route for the Joutone. It was necessary to make his acquaintance and pay his tariff for passage, even if his only trade were the biblical wisdoms. This transaction cost him some quality books and nearly his life. The next kingdom was far more promising. The accounts of the Bear Island's own General, of many humans inhabiting the village and the possibility of freeing a slave even, was worth the journey and the risk.

Jean-Richard's own personal band consisted of six warriors and three females, all wed. One had a cub of nine years old. They were all well versed in the good book, and eager to spread the word. The mercenaries he'd hired before landing on Wolf Island were all women save for three male slaves the girls used as bargaining chips on occasion.

The leader of the group was a princess. She was incredibly tall, as tall as any Joutone male Jean had ever met. She stood an easy seven feet tall, and her fur was grey with black and white spots. Joutone came in many thousands of colors. The majority were one or two tones, some sported spots or stripes, but they rarely contrasted as well as hers did, and Joutone wore enough clothing to hide such distinguishing marks.

As dawn approached the beaches of Bear Island started to break the torrid sea with specks of bonfires in the distance. Rolling waives hiding the prize every so often. As the shores drew closer, the rowing picked up pace. All of the warriors putting in a last effort just to be rid of the seas for the day.

They counted four fires, all within close distance of each other yet too far apart to be related. True to Joutone custom there were stacks of driftwood on the beach waiting for visitors to torch. The shores were a resting place after a long journey, and this being the sea harvest there would be hunters returning with fresh kills. The seals made annual migrations to the ancient shores to breed. So many thousands fed and slept along the same rocks the warriors hunted. As merchants made their own fires the pastor caught the sights of the General he'd met on William's side of the strait. He was sitting on a crate in a circle of Joutone, eating a species of mollusks found nowhere else in the world.

Jean walked right through the circle towards the warrior, his hand outstretched for a shake. Avarr sat like a predator waiting on prey to make a mistake; rigid and ready to pounce. Knowing his intrusion was risky he sought to introduce himself quickly, "It's good to see you again, friend."

Avarr made no attempt to accept the salutation, especially not with his King sitting across from him.

Among the other warriors by the fire, the king's personal guard, a warrior the pastor already knew form his travels. He was easily recognized by the twisting knarl of scar tissue down the right side of his face. Reagan stood an impressive seven foot six and his weight made him the largest beast here. His thumbs casually waiting on his weapons belt to see where this was going.

Jean beamed a huge smile, "Wow it has been years since I've seen you, my fine warrior friend. I see you've healed well." He offered his hand to Reagan in hopes he would be more receptive. The warrior merely sucked a fanged tooth. Jean backed off knowing that would be the only warning he got from the temperamental creature.