"The Road to Fjallmark", Part 2
Neea took a deep breath and stepped into the entrance. It was tall and spacious, and lived in, but no one was there now. At its center roared a large fire, and over the top, held in place by two thick sticks lodged in the ground, rested a metal spit for cooking. A few lanterns with their flickering candles lay about the cave, bathing its brown walls in splashes of warm and welcoming light. Near the entrance and next to a pile of dry, split wood rested an axe, larger than any Neea had ever seen. Against the wall sat a lute and a large keg and a smattering of cookware and dishes. And further to the back a few woolen blankets were sprawled upon the floor.
The cave certainly belonged to someone—someone large and strong by the looks of that axe—and Neea prayed the storm would end and that they would be long gone before that someone returned. She lowered her cowl, pulled the hood of her cloak back, and brushed the snow from her damp hair.
“Here, Pim. Take a seat by the fire and warm yourself.”
She sat down and removed her boots and gloves, allowing the flames to thaw her frozen fingers and toes. The crossbow sat by her side, ready should she need it. Pim joined her, though he remained alert, his eyes flitting to and fro across the cave and back to the entrance.
They sat in tense silence until, after several minutes passed with no sign of trouble, they let out the breaths they’d been holding. Neea smiled at Pim and patted his back, and she felt his shoulders drop with relief. They were safe and warm and out of the storm, and no wolves or bears had troubled them.
“How long do you think the storm will last, Master Neea ?”
“I don’t know,” she replied. “It’s too early in the season for this to continue on for days, but now I’m not so sure. This morning I thought the whole day would be clear.”
She frowned and shook her head.
“I’m so sorry, Pim. I had no idea the danger we would find ourselves in. You’re my charge. It’s my duty to protect you just as much as it is to teach you, and I failed.”
A quiet moment passed before Pim answered, his voice gentle and reassuring in the way only a child’s could be.
“But we did make it okay after all. You got us to safety before anything worse happened. And besides,” he puffed up. “If I’m to be a Scholar one of these days, I need to learn about and experience as much of the world as I can. Even if it may be scary at times.”
Neea beamed at him with admiration. Perhaps this little trek, as fraught as it had been, would awaken a sense of adventure in him after all.
From their seat by the fire, they gazed at the woods just beyond the entrance. The snow drifts had piled high at the base of the tree trunks and only a few green needles peeked out from beneath the heavy white clumps that had settled on the limbs. The wind still howled and whipped the falling snow so that the forest was immersed in a frothing cloud of white. It was peaceful, in a way, to watch the scene unfold from the safety of the cave with its warm and cheerful fire.
But their calm was shattered when the air reverberated with the roar, deep and thundering, of a cave bear. It was so loud and so savage that Pim nearly fell over himself as he scrambled toward Neea . Though she felt her heart racing, she raised a finger to her lips and drilled her eyes into Pim's, commanding him to stay silent. She clutched her crossbow and rose to her feet as soundlessly as she could. It had been spanned and loaded from the moment they had first heard the wolves howling. Both hands gripping the tiller, she aimed her weapon at the entrance, ready to pull the trigger should the bear approach.
She forced herself to ignore the sound of the driving wind, the crackling of flames, and the pounding of her heart, and to instead focus on the sounds of the beast that lurked nearby.
She heard the shuffling of snow under heavy, padded paws, and a series of snorts and grunts and huffs. It was nearing the cave.
Neea could feel Pim trembling behind her. Though she had spent many days of her girlhood exploring the woods, she had never faced anything like this. But she would do everything in her power to protect the boy, so she steeled herself, took a deep breath, and placed her fingers on the trigger. The bear let out another bellowing roar, the sound echoing through the cave itself this time. Its shadow fell across the opening, and in her panic, Neea let loose the bolt too early. It flew out of the cave and lost itself amongst the trees.
She cursed herself silently, knowing that the bear would be on them before she had time to load another bolt. She had failed Pim. If only she had come alone he would still be safe in his room at the inn, a bright future in the Scholar’s Guild waiting for him. But maybe, slim as it was, she still had a chance to save him. If she threw herself at the bear, distracted it, then perhaps he could flee to safety and find another shelter somewhere until the storm ended.
She braced herself, ready to face the beast and hoping that her death, and Pim's, if he didn’t manage to escape, would come quickly. But outside all was silent. The shadow that had stretched across the entrance had retreated, and the groans and growls had faded away. Had the bear somehow been scared off?
Pim reached for her hand and she held it tight. They peered out the entrance, watching and waiting, their bodies taut with fear. And then they heard the sound. A rhythmic plodding in the snow. Not like the shuffling paws of a great beast, but rather like the strides of a man. A large man. And suddenly, at the opening of the cave, appeared before them a figure like none they had ever seen.
Broad of shoulder, his head covered in a shock of untamed hair and his face hidden behind a wild beard that fell to his chest, the figure towered over them like a giant. He wore a simple tunic and woolen pants. His large feet were bare and covered with bristly brown hair, as were his arms and chest. His eyes were deep and golden, ancient and primal, as if through them he had seen all that had come and gone in this land since time itself began.
He lingered at the entrance, watching the pair with unblinking eyes and an expressionless face. If their appearance surprised them, he did not show it. Eventually he moved, walking past them with long, languid strides, no more bothered by their presence than a farmer might be by a field mouse. They shuffled out of his way and watched as he busied himself with the cookware in the back of the cave.
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“Should we leave, Master Neea ?” Pim whispered in her ear.
She watched the man as he stooped to gather plates and tankards and as he dug through barrels and bins.
“No,” she answered. “I don’t think he means us any harm.”
He looked over his shoulder at them and raised a great, bushy eyebrow. Neea knew he had heard their whispers.
He returned to the fire and in his arms he carried plates full of food that he set before them—a loaf of rye bread, apples shining and red, smoked salmon, and even a full wheel of cheese. Then he filled with mead pints so large the pair had to hold them with two hands. He sat by the fire and motioned for them to join him.
“Eat! Drink!”
Though his voice thundered thick and fierce, it was imbued with a warm and friendly timbre. He watched with amusement as they raised the large vessels to their mouths. The wrinkles of his face deepened, and a wide grin stretched from one cheek to the other. His eyes twinkled with delight.
Pim stared in awe at the giant of a man, who gripped his pint in a single massive hand and wolfed down his food in a few quick bites. When they had all finished, Neea gathered the courage to address their host.
“Thank you for your hospitality. My name is Neea Kallenen. I am the Scholar for the town of Forsbyr, and this is my apprentice, Pim Jarnalfson. We were on the way to Fjallmark to deliver medicine when we got lost in the snowstorm. We stumbled upon this cave—your cave—and sought refuge from the storm. We apologize for intruding.”
The man listened patiently as she spoke, a soft smile on his face. As she stared into his eyes, Neea felt that she beheld something more than a man: something older and unknown, something conjured from the legends and folktales that had captured her imagination as a girl, and the mystery of it thrilled her.
“I am called Gramjir,” he said, his deep voice flowing smooth and slow as honey. “I have made my home in these mountains and forests for many years. It is open to any peaceful creature who may have need of it, and I can see, young ones, that your hearts are good and kind. I know we shall become fast friends.”
And with those words, Neea and Pim knew that no further harm would come to them that evening.
“How long have you lived here?” Pim asked.
“I do not know the number of years since I came to be,” he replied. “I was birthed in the Long Night, when the spirits of Darkness reigned over this land, and those dwellers of the deep roamed freely and fed upon the blood of men, women, and children. The Shining Ones bore me, and my brothers and sisters, to guard against them until the spirits of Darkness were subdued and the dwellers of the deep were returned to the bowels of the earth. From this forest I have watched as the Sogni flourished, as their tribes divided the land amongst themselves, as black-haired men from across the Southern Sea bound them and carried them away on ships to unknown lands, and then as the descendants of those captives returned home to build their cities and steads.”
Normally Neea would have noticed Pim's uneasiness. How, despite the warmth of the fire, he shivered at Gramjir's words and his skin prickled up into gooseflesh. Instead she sat as if spellbound, her eyes wide and reverent and locked on the figure before them, unaware of anything apart from his rich and lulling voice.
“Gramjir,” Neea asked. “Before you appeared, we heard a cave bear at the entrance. Did you frighten it away? Or are you…?”
The man let loose a loud and hearty laugh that rang through the cave.
“You have guessed correctly, Scholar. I am a skin changer. But even if I had only been a cave bear, that bolt would have done me no harm!”
Neea laughed, but Pim stared blankly at her.
“Do not look so dismayed, young one,” Gramjir directed his attention to Pim now. “You are most safe here.”
“It’s only,” Pim stammered. “The things you have said. How could they be true? They are things I’ve only heard in nursery tales. Or old legends. They can’t possibly be true!”
Neea smiled at the worried boy and put her arm around his shoulder.
“There is more magic and mystery in the world than you can even begin to imagine!” she told him. “It can be frightening when you experience that truth for the first time, especially when it goes against everything you’ve believed to be true of the world. But is that not what a Scholar does? Question the world, examine it from every angle, and marvel at the wonder of it all?”
“But doesn’t it scare you? If skin changers are real,” he glanced uneasily at the massive man, “Then those other things—the Long Night, deep dwellers—horrible things straight out of nightmares could be real as well!”
“Young one,” Gramjir interjected. “Even if there were no magic, no Long Night, no spirits of Darkness, and no dwellers of the deep, the world would still have its share of horrors, for much of the evil in the world comes straight from the hearts of men. But just as there are men and women with pure hearts who strive for peace, the Shining Ones have filled the world with magic and spirits and beings like me to keep it as safe as we can.”
He reached for the lute behind him.
“And now, so that your heart should not be troubled by all that you have learned this night, I shall sing for you of the mighty deeds of great heroes in those dark and ancient days.”
So they gathered the blankets from the floor and warmed themselves by the fire, watching the flames dance as Gramjir played his lute and sang songs never before heard by human ears. Some were beautiful and strange and set their hearts longing for worlds long gone and hidden from sight. Others were mournful tales of sacrifice and lost love that filled their eyes with tears. And still others told of great valor and courage and hope in the midst of despair, of light that glimmered in the darkness until it grew so bright that every last shadow was driven away. And so they drifted off to sleep, safe in Gramjir's cave, as night fell and the moon rose over the snowy woods.
When the pair awoke in the morning, Gramjir stood over the fire stirring a large pot that hung from the spit. The aroma of warm porridge and honey wafted through the air. But even better was the view outside the cave. The day was clear and bright and the snow lay on the ground soft and still. The storm had ended while they slept.
They ate their breakfast in a comfortable silence, and when they had finished, they gathered their supplies and readied themselves to leave.
“Thank you for your kindness, Gramjir,” Neea said, clasping his large, hairy hand. “You saved our lives and also warmed our hearts with your friendship.”
“Yes,” Pim echoed brightly. “I’ll never forget your kindness, or the songs you shared with us. You’ve shown me the world really is a more wondrous place than I ever dreamed.”
The giant extended a hand to the boy, but Pim threw his arms about him instead. Gramjir smiled and returned the embrace.
“Should you ever find yourselves in these woods, my young friends, visit me again. You will always have a place by my fire.”
He walked with them from the cave, his long, heavy strides dragging up the snow to form deep trenches, and led them back to the path they had wandered from.
"Fjallmark is only a few miles north of here,” he told them. “The weather has calmed, and I have seen to it that you shall have no troubles from any wild creature in these woods. May your journey there and back be swift and peaceful.”
Neea and Pim bid him farewell and proceeded down the path. When they glanced back again, Gramjir had gone. Pimstopped in his tracks and stared forlornly into the distance.
“You alright, Pim?” Neea asked.
He let out a long sigh.
“You were right, Master Neea . This place really is full of adventure. I guess I just wasn’t ready for it to end.”
“I have a feeling this adventure won’t be our last,” she consoled him. “Now, chin up and let’s keep on. Fjallmark is waiting and we should be there in time for lunch.”
They continued on their way, and though they could no longer see him, they could still sense Gramjir's strong and kindly presence watching over them from somewhere deep within the ancient, wild woods.