How Teddy Roosevelt Slew the Last Mighty T-Rex (32 page)

“The Ordai,” Tharmstron grunted above the Council’s murmurs. “Is the honorable Dumas standing here, telling us the Ordai will return this winter?”

Samael shook his head dismissively. “In Norelda, the watch for Ordai ended in my father's time. I have yet to see any evidence of the beast’s return.”

“Please, dear friends,” Ruma said. “Let our senior representative continue. He has expressed his desire to offer some additional explanation.”

Quintar felt a chill draft flow through the hall as the elder merchant’s eyes fixed on the table’s center. Golden embers flickered in the fireplace, sending glowing orbs spiraling into the air. Quintar inhaled deeply, watching the embers rain slowly upon the polished wooden floors.

“There is something else,” Dumas said gravely. “I recall my father telling us that the Yaakmen had observed unusual behavior among the beasts during the previous year’s fall season. Some of this I can’t recall, but two points I still remember clearly: my father told my brothers and me that the Yaak had developed a thick, heavy pelt and that the creatures were hoarding huge amounts of food, far beyond the sum of prior years.”

The representatives sat silently.

Finally, Carathis spoke: “This has also been observed and noted in our oldest Yaakrider traditions and lore, some of which have been passed down through generations in my trade.” He sighed. “The Yaak likely hoard for a reason.”

Tharmstron said, “There appears to be ample signs the upcoming winter will be harsh, and I’ve no doubt that others at this table will prepare with great earnestness. But I’m still not convinced a severe winter will summon the snow-beasts.” Tharmstron crossed his arms and shook his head.

Ruma spoke: “Talk of the Ordai stirs many emotions amongst our citizens. Tales of the snow-beasts are taught to our youngest children and are thus an integral part of our culture. But it has been four generations since the Ordai roamed the Valley of the Confluence, and understandably, to us they are more legend than real flesh and blood.”

Ruma rose to his feet, his eyes steadfast with resolve. “But make no mistake fellow representatives: to our forefathers, the terror was real. I still recall the icy terror on my own grandfather’s face, when he spoke of the horrible beasts from the north. Before he died, he warned me never to forget that the snow-beasts may someday return…”

“Ere long the days of winter fold

Of bitter root and tales of old

Eleven Thermegan shall fly anew

The twelfth shall the Ordai rule”

All eyes turned toward the slender Adairian scribe Porrias.

“May I… may I beg the Council's forgiveness. It was a saying taught to me by my father, as it had been told by his father. I’ve begun to scribe all such sayings that I’ve had the privilege to hear and remember.”

Dumas looked the young scribe over, and then a thin smile formed on the wizened merchant’s face. “I’ve talked too long, and now my work is complete.” He lowered slowly to his seat.

Ruma, still standing, paused for a moment. “We have listened and deliberated much this morning, and we still must hear from Tharmstron and his young companion Ruppon. We must also discuss plans for winter and those discussions may continue for days.” Ruma glanced out the window as bright sunshine beat down upon Tyrie’s streets, and a steady trickle fell from the Hall’s slushy roof. “It appears that noon has passed. A break for food and fresh air is in order.”

The representatives rose and began filing from the room. Carathis turned to speak with Pincar. Quintar walked to the hallway, coming face to face with Hayden. Their eyes locked.

Hayden’s jaw tightened. “Look at us now, both representatives...”

“Mother would be proud,” Quintar replied.

Hayden chuckled nervously.

“And how are Ari and Marcura?”

“My sister Ari… Our sister Ari and her new husband have built a homestead north of the city. She was disappointed you couldn’t attend the joining. Mother is the same as always.”

“And Ruma?”

Hayden hesitated. “Father was interested to learn that Carathis had named you a representative. I’d not heard your name mentioned in ages… only mother. Perhaps the passing seasons have mellowed him some.”

A moment later, Ruma and Dumas strolled down the hall toward the two men. Ruma stopped. Dumas nodded to Quintar and Hayden before hobbling toward the door.

The three men stood in awkward silence. Ruma stared at Quintar and their eyes met. “You present yourself well, young Yaakman. All of us are pleased to have you here.”

“Thank you, father.”

Ruma nodded. And then he and Hayden turned and strode down the hallway.

CHAPTER
 
8 (The Yaakmen of Tyrie)

T
he noontime sun shone brightly over the Great Meeting Hall as the representatives chatted and argued politely over the morning’s business.

Ruma rose and held forth his hand. “Let us begin again. The day grows short and we have a great deal to discuss before evening. Let us now turn to the honorable Tharmstron, who has graciously accepted Master Druiden’s invitation to address the Council, although he has gone to great lengths to caution me that his speech’s merits can only be judged by the Council itself.”

Tharmstron rose from his chair, tugging his green robe awkwardly over broad shoulders. “Esteemed representatives, I would first like to thank the Council for allowing us this time to speak. My young comrade Ruppon and me will try not to take up much of the Council’s valuable time. And I apologize for our crude speech, because as you all know, we are an uneducated people, yet perhaps I will be the last generation to be so.” He nodded graciously toward Druiden and Porrias.

Dumas’s eyes gleamed. “Judge not the manner of a man's speech but the content of his argument.”

“Well spoken,” Ruma said. “Now, please continue, Master Tharmstron...”

“Trappers, by their nature, roam far into the wilderness searching for new and untapped areas full of healthy game. The educated scholars of Adair know this well and have formed an alliance with us trappers to share information of the lands we’ve traveled in return for maps and teachers to instruct our young.

“These maps have proved useful to the men and women in my profession, and also to Yaakriders, who hunt far into the wilderness and even to the south, below Lake Adair’s western bay.” Tharmstron turned to Carathis and Quintar, who acknowledged with polite nods.

“In late summer of this past year, I journeyed to Adair on business. There, I had the honor of dining on fresh Quidida with Master Druiden in his home overlooking the Bay of Adair. As we ate, I told him a tale that had been told to me by a group of trappers who our party met at an outpost located to the east of Norelda on the wilderness’s edge.

“Indeed, the story was strange, yet as with other tales told and retold at campfires all through the wilderness— and if the truth be known, most of these stories are flavored with Jenna— we trappers accept these tales as questionable, at best.”

The representatives chuckled.

“So as we ate, I laughed, and retold the story to Druiden and apologized for wasting his valuable time.

“But the wise Druiden was not amused. He listened to the tale with great earnestness, and I saw in his eyes a glow of serious thought. He asked me to seek out the tale’s source, and if I found truthfulness in its claims, present the story to the Council of Representatives.”

Tharmstron paused, inhaling deeply. “My esteemed council members, I have not only spoken with the source, but I have brought him here to tell the story in person.” He turned and placed his hand on his young companion’s shoulder. “I present the trapper Ruppon.”

Tharmstron sat and motioned Ruppon to stand.

The young trapper rose, his eyes darting to each of the council.

“Please begin, young man,” Ruma said. “The Council is eager to hear your tale. We are not often prepared in such a tantalizing manner.”

“My name is Ruppon,” he began tepidly. “My family’s been trappers for generations. I grew up at outposts all through the wilderness. Like most of us trappers, I don’t call any one place my home.

“In early spring of this year, just after the river retreat, me and my older brother Jarem and five Breva entered the wilderness southwest of the trapper outpost that Tharmstron mentioned before. We wanted to get to a small valley between two mountain ranges almost straight east from Adair. The valley’s cut by a river branch coming into Lake Adair from its eastern arm.

“Us trappers like this route in the spring. The river is mostly without rapids, and it’s easy to run hides by boat to the lake. There, we can sell them to the merchants in Adair or peddle them right in Adair’s markets. Either way, a trapper can earn some good credits.

“Jarem and me drove the Breva up the steep ground to a pass between the mountains. Some of you might not know that a Breva is a crossbreed between a Zampha and Mathran. We trappers like this cross, because it has the strength of a Zampha and can climb like a Mathran, which can come in handy when trapping in hilly country.

“It took us a half cycle of Ellini to come down into the valley from the north. The days were bright and there were good signs of game. And we wasted no time setting our traps for the Camorr and Alem that roamed the river retreat marches and stream basins of the valley. Jarem and me camped close to our traps because we also tracked Pinthra.

“One night, we used Alberon’s bright light to prepare our skins for packing. There was no breeze, and I remember the smoke from our fire drifted straight up into the branches of Sohla that surrounded our campsite. Jarem found a wild pig in one of our traps, and we roasted it. All I remembered hearing that night was the crackling of Olaf in the fire and pork sizzling on the spit, until….

“Without no warning, our Breva became restless, yelping their high pitch whine and pulling on the ropes that bound them to the trees. Jarem and me dropped our knives and jumped for our crossbows. We pointed our weapons into the dark shadows between the trees.

“Pinthra? I whispered to Jarem.

“No, he said. It’s too early, and Pinthra don’t like a big fire.

“Before I could say something else, we heard a man’s voice call from the woods.

“I must beg pardon for annoying your animals, said the voice.

“Jarem held his crossbow firm. Who are you? Come forward and show your face. Don’t you know that men who sneak up on a trapper after dark risk being split by an arrow, without no questions?

“I know, said the voice, because I was once a trapper like you. But I’m very hungry, and I haven’t talked with another human in two years.

“Through Alberon’s light, I saw a figure creep out from between the trees.

“I’m alone and unarmed, the man said over and over.

“A weak and haggard man stepped into the firelight. His shoulders were stooped, and he had long, gray hair and a scruffy beard. His coat and boots were ragged, and his shirt and trousers were tore. On his back, he carried an old skin pack. Later on, my brother and me both agreed that he looked like a man who had wandered the wilderness for a long time.

“My name is Darros, the man said. Can I make camp here and share your pig and some Jenna, if you might? I’ve not tasted Jenna for as long as I can remember.

“His wild eyes shined at the idea of Jenna and pork. My first thought was that the man was crazed, so both of us kept our hands near our bows.

“What brings you to this valley? Jarem asked. And if you are a trapper, where are your traps?

“I said that I was once a trapper, Darros said, pulling off his pack. Now I’m just a wanderer. I have no home.

“Why did you leave the settlements? I asked. Why would a man not seek others for such a long time? Are you a criminal? I let him see that I had a crossbow within easy reach.

“Darros walked to the fire, shaking his head. So many questions, he said. I’m very hungry and thirsty. All the time, his eyes never left the pig.

“We don’t starve fellow travelers, Jarem told him. Then my brother cut a slice of pork and handed it to the stranger. The man ate like a crazed animal.

“After he ate a good part of our pig, he tried to explain his past. Yes, he said, I was a trapper. I lived at an outpost near Norelda. I’ve trapped most northern and southern routes, including this one. I gave up trapping two springs ago, deciding instead to roam the wilderness away from men and their ways.

“Darros gave us a look of disgust when he mentioned others, and I gave my brother a quick look. Jarem just shook his head— we both knew the man was not telling us all the truth.”

“Master Tharmstron,” Councilwoman Charon asked. “Have you any confirmation, this man Darros was once a member of the trapper community, as he had told young Ruppon?”

“Yes, Councilwoman Charon,” Tharmstron replied. “After the honorable Druiden asked me to investigate this story further, I talked to others at the Noreldan settlement that Ruppon spoke of. Some say, a man calling himself Darros once trapped from a northwest outpost, but he had not been seen in over two years.”

Tharmstron scowled. “More importantly, this man Darros did not choose to leave the trade, he was banished for thievery! I believe this is the same man.”

Ruma lifted his hand softly. “Well, let us continue with this tale. Young man...”

“As the night wore on, my brother and me warmed to the wandering stranger. He ate his fill of pork and drank a good share of our Jenna. As his hunger went away, he started to talk wondrous tales of his time in the wilderness.

“He talked of traveling north and east, and up and through the high mountains, where the air was thin and huge mountains of hard ice melted into deep, blue-green pools, even during summer’s heat. And he talked of a barren pass, where game was scarce and hunger nearly killed him. On clear days, he said, he could see mountains so high they touched the sky in never-ending rows of peaks and slopes.

“He barely survived the pass and followed a stream down to a basin that emptied into a bigger river running almost due east. He said he didn’t follow the river right away, but he stayed near the river’s bank the whole summer, hunting and fishing.

“There was plenty of game, he said. And he found at least nine Yaak tribes. He figured about a thousand beasts lived in this one valley alone.

“When winter came, he built a small cabin near one of the Yaak tribes on a plateau overlooking the river. The Yaak didn’t pay him much attention, except for one day, when three of the older female Yaak stopped by. He’d guessed they were just curious of the cabin he’d built.

“They took a good look at me and my cabin, he said, probably just checking to see if I was dangerous. He laughed. Otherwise, they just left me alone. They acted as if I wasn’t even there, he said… strange beasts.”

“When spring came, he built a hollowed boat and waited for the river to retreat. Then he abandoned his cabin, entering the river flowing east.

“He told us that he floated down the twisting river for many cycles of Ellini, stopping when he found good hunting grounds or when he just grew weary of traveling. By the stars and sun, he noticed the river twisted southeast, then south, and even southwest for awhile, passing through steep canyons and barren hills.

“Eventually, he told Jarem and me, the river opened to a marsh so big that it took many days to cross, and that large serpent-creatures lived in this marsh, so terrible, he spoke of them little.”

The representatives murmured.

“Darros said that the marsh ended in a huge lake. And upon crossing this lake, he found the river again and then continued southward.

“This stretch of the river contained many rapids, but Darros also told us that the hunting along this rugged shore was the best he had ever experienced, thus making the perils of the waterway somewhat bearable.

“Taking his time, Darros eventually made his way downriver. One day, he saw a colony of birds feeding in the shallows below a high riverbank. This made him wary, as he had come to learn that birds often fed just above the beginning of rapids or falls.

“He said, the air was thick with dew, and he heard the dull sounds of water in the distance, so he pulled his boat to the shore. He walked through the woods to the river’s head. There, he said, the forest opened to bare rock.

“Darros described to my brother and me, a waterfall higher than he had ever seen in all his years. The water fell in two tiers: the first he could see below, dividing the river into many streams; the second falling into a valley, he could not yet see.

“Words couldn’t describe the view of that valley, he said. Two mountain ranges towered on either side, and the basin spread out to the southwest beyond his sight. From where he looked, the river pooled at the bottom of the falls, twisting down the valley’s center.

“It took him two days to climb to the bottom of the falls and into the valley below. He described the land as green and full of game, and he spent many cycles below the falls, fishing and hunting.

“This man Darros told us that he would have been happy to stay in this valley forever, if he didn’t come upon what he saw next.”

Ruppon paused, glancing over the transfixed representatives.

“Just a day down the valley from the falls, he happened on a clearing above the flood bank. Strange, he thought, because he had never known Yaak to clear land in this way. The path through the clearing appeared to have been made by men. He followed the path into the forest, where he found a small cabin made of timber and thatched reeds.”

The council members began to murmur. Some shook their heads while others openly expressed shock. Only Dumas sat expressionless, staring at Ruppon.

“The cabin appeared to be built for four or five men. The beds were crude, made of Sohla branches and Payet leaves. Darros thought the cabins were not made sturdy enough to keep men safe in winter. He also said that it looked like no one had been there since the previous summer. When he walked farther away from the river, the path opened to a wide clearing. Here, he said, he found a number of fire pits surrounded by forty cabins.”