Chapter 16

It was summer, and I was doing quite well for myself lately. Having established a lifeline in town as a taciturn hunter that stopped by regularly to sell my goods, I was building up a substantial amount of silver, and had found myself a regular at the smithy. These days I had a nice wide iron spearhead gracing my latest spear. I’d had it custom made to order with an ironwood stave. I had real metal buckles for my new belt and my new pack, which was store bought, no more holding my pants up with a frayed piece of rope or using a poorly tanned hide I’d roughly sewn into a bag with shoulder straps. I’d also picked up a shovel that I’d used to set up a few large pitfall traps as well as some smaller holes that I’d lined with sharp downward angled stakes that would catch the leg of an unwary creature that stepped in, the sharpened sticks within would pierce its flesh when it tried to pull its leg out and hold it there. I’d occasionally wake in the night to hear a wolf howling in pain and would kill it before it could gnaw its leg off. I’d never been much for snares, but these pits did good work on the larger game prevalent in the forest. I’d even taken a few deer and a giant boar with the larger pitfalls, and had real hopes that I’d manage a bear one of these days.

I’d toyed around with the idea that I could build myself a treehouse with my new tools, but ultimately came to the decision that it would be just asking for a nasty fall that could potentially cripple me. Besides, with my large wall of firewood stacked around my tipi that was really more of a conical mud hut at this point, my camp was pretty safe. I’d dug away the floor over the years to the point that even Hammer could stand comfortably inside when he visited and had piled the dirt in between the firewood and the hut’s walls for additional security. It was basically half underground at this point. Given that the meadow it resided in was studded with pit traps of varying sizes, it was about as safe as I could make it. I’d made sure Knick and Hammer knew the safe path through them, but if anybody else tried to nonchalantly walk on in they could lose a leg or worse. I’d noticed myself getting really good at camouflaging them lately and had a hard time spotting them myself sometimes.

I was walking silently through the warm night. My senses were extremely sharp these days, and I’d found that nights with a full moon, like tonight, were perfect for hunting. Turns out it was much easier to kill a critter while it was sleeping, and sometimes I’d get lucky. I’d seen a lot of bear tracks out here by the road and was hoping tonight was the night. Instead I was hearing human speech.

“Hurry up, Marco. It's gotta be around here somewhere. I followed him from a distance, and this is where he turned into the wood. That arrogant hunter has to have a camp around here somewhere, and he’s got a BUNCH of silver after selling all those skins yesterday.”

“Fuck you, I twisted my ankle on a root back there. It’s pitch fucking black in here.” I stopped in the shadow of a large tree and drew my cloak around myself as I crouched down to watch. Three men were making their way clumsily through the woods brandishing axes. I must be getting sloppy, I hadn’t noticed anyone following me out of town the other day, and I usually kept a pretty good eye out. Don’t know how they think this is pitch black though. Admittedly, I’ve been in these woods so long I know almost every tree, which helps, but with that big blue moon full in the sky I feel like I can see almost as well as during the day. The color threw me off when I'd first noticed that it wasn’t white like back on Earth, but it reflected just as much light or maybe even more since it seemed a bit larger.

“Would you two kindly shut the fuck up? He’ll hear you coming from a mile away, and if he has a bow you’ll get me killed along with you,” whispered the third man loudly.

Judging by their direction of travel, even if they continued straight ahead they’d miss my camp by a considerable margin. And then I noticed it, right along their path. I smiled and almost laughed out loud, but my stalking habits held fast and I didn’t make a noise. I just watched.

I’m sure they assumed it was just another large bush in their path, but the silhouette was wrong. Those weren’t leaves. That was fur.

The large mound of bear stirred from its slumber as they approached and suddenly stood up on its hind legs, fully a dozen feet high, towering above them. Big fucker. Probably the biggest bear I’d seen. The man in the back froze, but the two up front didn’t even slow down, oblivious to their imminent peril. They were so clueless. I hope everyone that tries to kill me is this stupid. The bear struck out with a paw and the second man, Marco apparently, was slapped to the side and into a tree with SLAP CRACK staccato noises that almost seemed to overlap, as they happened nearly simultaneously. It was quite a uniquely gruesome sound. Well, Marco was very dead. The other two screamed in fear and turned to run. The bear charged forward on all fours. As it passed the front man, it grabbed his skull in its jaws. CRUNCH and the man’s limbs violently twitched spasmodically before going limp.

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I took off in a silent sprint, following behind the bear. The final man was screaming at the top of his lungs as he bolted back towards the road. He nearly made it there. Just as he broke through the tree line, the bear grabbed him by the leg and began thrashing him back and forth like a rag doll while he shrieked. I caught up to the bear just as it threw the man to the side, and I lunged forward with my spear, taking it right in the side of the neck. I had disassembled a lot of animals and as such had gained a substantial instinct as to their internal anatomy. Even so, there was admittedly a certain quantity of luck that guided the iron spearhead neatly between its vertebrae. The bear slumped to the ground snarling and snapping at me, but as the only thing moving was its head above the spear. I wasn’t worried. I knew it was dead. It just hadn’t realized it yet.

I heard the third man crying in the grass filled ditch by the road. I made my way over to him, leaving my spear in the bear for the time being. The man was dragging himself backwards with one arm while futilely trying to hold the blood inside his mangled leg. He didn’t have long at this rate. I walked over and stood near him, looking down, my moon cast shadow falling over him as he looked up at me with sudden hope on his face.

“Please! Sir Hunter, save me!” he pleaded as he lay there bleeding.

“Now why would I try to help someone that intended to rob and possibly kill me?” I questioned him.

He gaped at me, his mouth flopping open and closed while he tried to think, “I’m sorry, sir! Please! I’ll do anything!” he begged.

“Anything you say? Well then, please do me the favor of dying slowly and painfully while I skin this bear so I can sell it for a BUNCH of silver tomorrow,” I responded coldly. I turned my back on him and made my way back to the bear just as it breathed its last. I yanked out the spear, plunged it into the ground, and got to work. I was quite practiced at skinning beasts at this point and was fairly certain that I could finish by morning. As it’s right on the road I’ll be able to schlep the skin back to my camp to sell later and can sell the meat in town today. I’ll hire some water bearers to haul it in for me and pay them out of the meat. All profit, baby. I heard the weeping of the third man slowly draw to a whimpering close, and the silence of the night once again surrounded me. What a good day this turned out to be.

My estimate was correct. By the time the sun had made its way fully over the horizon I’d gutted and skinned the bear, with the exception of the bit of hide that was pinned to the ground by its weight. I couldn’t turn something that big over by myself, but I had gotten a LOT of thick furred skin as well as its claws and had brought them back to my camp by a circuitous route, just in case someone tried to follow my tracks back. My route went right through the thickest patch of my pit traps, so folks better play nice or they’ll join these three dead assholes in the afterlife.

I headed into town covered in blood. Hazards of having to basically crawl inside the bear to get all the organs removed to keep the meat from going bad.

I got more looks than usual, I wasn’t carrying my typical load of skins, so mostly it was probably the fact that I was covered in blood. It was early enough that most folks weren’t up and moving yet, so at least I had that going for me.

I made my way quickly to the water gatherers' huts on the east side of town. These men were always up early. Since folks had a use for water first thing in the morning, it was one of their busiest times of day. I quickly made my offer, bear meat in exchange for hauling the beast back to town in pieces. I got a half dozen takers and we made our way back to the bear. Before I’d left it the first time, I’d relieved the dead men of their coin, what little there was of it, but I left everything else. I didn’t want to be labeled a thief. The men may be dead, but graverobber wasn’t a title I wanted either. The water bearers were aghast at the carnage, but they had seen some of their fellows being eaten by a croc earlier in the week, so it wasn’t exactly their first rodeo, and they quickly got to work. Even with the seven of us it’d take a few trips at least. I led them back with the first load and headed for Smudge’s. It was mid morning by now so I knew Jeck would be up. I quickly negotiated with Jeck to middleman the sale of the bear meat for me to whoever wanted some, and we left our first load there with him. We headed back and got the rest over the course of several trips, finally the bear was light enough to turn it over and get the last of its skin.

We hauled the last of the meat back to Smudge’s. I’d offered Jeck one part in five of the load to keep or sell as he pleased in exchange for brokering the meat’s sale for me. By the time we got back he was already doing brisk business, and there was a line out the front door for the first time I’d seen. I could already smell bear stew brewing in the kitchen, a number of townsfolk were sitting at the tables awaiting a bowl. I told Jeck I’d be back in a day or so to pick up my earnings and informed him about the dead men the bear had killed, suggesting he have the mayor send someone for their corpses to return to their families. The crowd quieted, hearing this, and the water bearers nodded to their questioning glances.

I made my bloody way out the door as the crowd made way with murmurs of appreciation.

I grabbed the bear’s skull on my way back to camp, and, as had become my tradition, mounted the skull on a stick out front. I’d clean the meat off it later. Time for some breakfast. I was going to eat that bear’s heart before I finally got some sleep so I cut it into large chunks and set it on sticks to cook over my fire.

But first things first. I grabbed my trusty bucket and headed tiredly towards the tree I used to fetch water from the river.

I was in desperate need of a bath.