Achil & The Rise Of The Mandrake

by David Papa-Adams

  Chapter XX

  The Golden Bears of Osgaroth

  After the site of their dead kin, the Golden Bears that had witnessed her dead carcass retreated back into the forest; from that day their anger had simmered and grown. They were descended from Krass the Terrible. Originally from the Steppe, but forced to flee to the Haven Mountains after their lands had been usurped in the first Great War of the Steppe. When Jin with the help of the High Spirit Ragnor, had shown his anger and overrun their lands, driving them out. They had finally settled in Osgaroth being welcomed by their brethren who were already flourishing there. After a time they had become the twelve clans of the Golden Bears, whose memory still held true to those elder days. Each clan had its own territory, all lived peacefully enough; although every now and then they had fought with trappers, hunters and of course, themselves.

  In the old days they had been a numerous warlike race and had, until they met Jin, considered themselves the mightiest of all the creatures created by the Great Spirit. Now those days were but a memory, fables told for the amusement of their cubs. They had watched man grow and with him the wolf fold, from forest dwellers that had worshiped them, to what they had become, masters of all. The reason, for their decline, was a simple one; each clan was so insular that once they had carved out their own territory they rarely moved beyond it. And more and more each bear chose a solitary life, away even from the other members of their clan. They had not realised the threat that had arisen, as they had not seen that in the outside world, man had flourished, and with man a new breed of animal had appeared, the Wolfmen. Both races were interdependent on one another, and had come upon the Golden Bears like a scourge, slashing, hacking and hewing. And when, after the war had ended, and the ancient ones had fled to the Mountains, or had been chased deep into the Forests, far from their old world, the Golden Bears had settled, flourished and waited; they had waited for that time, when it was said by the old ones, in a time long past, that their old adversary would return, and they would have to struggle once more against an enemy that was both savage and daring.

  Recently the stench of death had laid its mantle thick over the forest. A frightening rumour had spread, that a cruelty from the old world had come upon them: and so a moot had been called.

  And in a clearing in the middle of a forest glade far from the world of men, the Beasts met. The sun burning down upon them, forced mouths to gape, and tongues to sag, it gave undue discomfort to fur lined bodies, and disturbed the privacy of the leadership of the twelve clans. There had not been such a gathering for a long age. It was understood that only wolfmen would shamefully humiliate one of their own. By taking the furs of the Golden Bears, they had been prevented from entering the afterlife.

  Clawhand was addressing the gathering, a tall thickset bear; his eyes filled with rage and anger his mighty claws like shovels lay in front of him. Many who had been killed had been friends of his.

  “The body of Razor has been mutilated,” growled Clawhand. “Only men and wolfmen would do such a thing. We should seek them out and punish them, bring fear to their children as we once did.”

  Rawtrunk who was given such a name because of a lack of hair on his rump, which had been burnt off in a forest fire when he was only a cub stood up, a large aggressive looking bear, his golden fur had a dark streak running down it, one ear had been torn in a fight.

  “We have read the signs,” said Rawtrunk. “There were Wolf tracks also, those were not normal wolves they were bigger, much bigger. They tell of an older menace, that we thought left behind on the Steppe. It must be that our great adversary has once more come upon us. But before we speak further on this matter, we have a representative from the Wolf fold who has come to us. He apparently has seen and knows what is going on in the out world. His name is Greymane.”

  Clawhand leaned over to the bear seated next to him, and quietly in a gruff voice said, “Things must be bad if one of the Wolf fold has come to us.”

  Greymane walked out into the centre of the meet, running down his back ran the dark grey mane he was named after. There was a great clamour by all the assembly as he entered the circle; rumours were already rife about how Razor and many others had died.

  “First let me say the death of the Golden Bear Razor had nothing to do with the Wolf Fold,” said Greymane. “Recently we became aware of a new menace to both Wolves and Bears. We scouted along the borders of the Wood to find that a breed of Wolfmen that your forefathers had warned us of, our here.”

  There was a stunned silence, to have a rumour turn to reality was a mighty torment indeed: the old adversary from the vast Steppe, was the foe that made their forest tremble.

  “What proof have you of this?" growled Clawhand.

  “Over the past few months,” said Greymane. “We in the Wolf fold have been under constant threat. We thought it was separate packs of men looking for new territories to hunt in. Recently however one of our runners came upon a place where a great struggle had occurred between the men of these lands and those from your ancient tales; and this is what we found.”

  Another Wolf entered the circle carrying the head of the Wrath General, who had been killed at the Battle of Rock Plain. The Wolf dropped the head by Greymane; the Bears looked at it with disbelief and consternation.

  Greymane continued, “We followed the trail of where this one had come from. Thinking that the entire Wolfmen Pack had been destroyed, in what must have been a great hunt. You can imagine our dismay when the tracks led us to an even greater hunting pack, one the size of which cannot be imagined. It surrounds the ‘mans lair of Stone Caves.’ In that pack are many thousands of Wolfmen allied to men. Such a threat cannot be met by the Wolf Fold alone. We know that they go out hunting in packs, killing many, taking their furs so they cannot enter the afterlife. Indeed we have been forced to retreat from the lands east of the forests.”

  Rawtrunk was not yet convinced, “Surely if men fight one another that is a good thing, let them kill themselves. Every other creature will then live in peace and even better, if the Wolfmen are killed too.”

  There was a tumult of agreement ringing all around, Greymane became agitated the last thing he wanted was to be in the middle of an angry rabble of bears. Clawhand gestured for them to remain calm.

  ”And,” said Clawhand. “What if the Wolfmen succeed in defeating the Men from the Stone Caves? What then? You all know what the Wolfmen are capable of and everyone knows the tale of the Great War of the Steppe, everything was laid waist. If they have truly come to these lands then this is not just a threat to the race of men but to us all, it is not just one territory they are after, but all.”

  One of the older Golden bears, Hardjaw who had been quiet up to this point spoke out.

  “Men have never been a friend to the Golden Bears in fact mores the opposite,” he said. “There have been times when they have hunted us, the way they have hunted the Wolf fold, but I admit we also have done the same to men who were out walking in the forest; and a sweet morsel they were too.”

  Murmurs of gruff laughter echoed out.

  “But I know this,” he continued. “That man is something we have grown to tolerate and man can live with us. The Wolfmen live to devour all and if as you say they have allied themselves to a race of men with appetites to match their own; then that is a menace to be feared. The situation is much worse than can be imagined. Perhaps by helping the enemy of our enemy we might make a friend and be finally safe.”

  Lockjaw an elderly bear of some considerable stature, still remained unconvinced, “It’s all very well saying such fine words. But men have strange ways of fighting. They have the power of making wood with sharp teeth that can fly through the air and bite deep into our hides. They are a wild uncompromising creature who always takes more than he should, whether that is territory or food. Who here can speak of mans justice, you remember Grizzly Wood. When one of us killed one of them, they drove every bear from that forest, killing how many cubs; thirsting for revenge that is th
e way of men. I say let them kill themselves, and when there hunt is over, then we will hunt whoever lives, and kill those that remain.”

  Again there was a loud tumult of agreement from some of the bears that did not wish to get embroiled in the great hunt of men. Greymane growled for silence the ice cold stare of his blue eyes landing on Lockjaw.

  “And what of Razor,” snarled Greymane. “The tracks all indicate that she was killed by Wolfmen, to leave her killers unpunished will surely bring down ruin on us all.”

  There was silence as the Wolf stood there proud, resolute, determined as his fur bristled with indignation in the breeze.

  “The Wolf fold will hunt this new pack, which has taken the territory of Mans lair of Stone Caves," Greymane growled. “You can hide behind your trees if you wish; until men come and hunt you in your Dens and use your hides to rest on. And make no mistake they will come, for these tribes of men from the steppe are relentless against their own, so why would they not be relentless against us.”

  A growl went up from one of the bears who leapt out of the circle and tried to claw at Greymane. But Greymane was too quick to be struck; darting nimbly to the side and avoiding the blow altogether. Once more he took up an unyielding position at the heart of the moot. Hardjaw rebuked the young bear and told him to get back, under their laws; it was an insult to harm a guest, especially one asked to speak to the Elders.

  Hardjaw apologized for the impetuous youth.

  Greymane continued seemingly more desperate to make an impression, “You do not have a choice in this matter. It is more than mere honour at stake and waiting for who wins is not an answer, you either hunt now or not at all. Because that great pack that is hunting at ‘mans lair of Stone Caves' will not stop there, they will devour us all. They have no respect for the trees of the wood, tearing them down and killing those that dwell beneath them as though they mean nothing. Soon there will not be a forest left and no one will have a territory. All our hunting grounds will be destroyed.”

  Once more there was a long silence only broken by Clawhand who began to scratch something in the ground. The Bears had been given a lot to think about and even more to worry about.

  “Leave us Greymane,” said Clawhand. “Thank you for coming to tell us of these things that have come to pass, and for talking so plainly to us.”

  Greymane was unsure of the impact he had made, as he turned to leave he looked back at Clawhand.

  “When the sun passes three times across the sky we will have gathered to go to war at the Stone Caves. I hope you are there,” barked Greymane.

  With that he disappeared with his companion into the gloom of the forest.

  The Bears were quiet, and sullen. They wished to avenge the death of their brethren but they did not wish to embroil themselves in the world of men. They argued long into the night; some talking of vengeance, others that the risk would be too great. Greymane had left the severed head of the Wrath General in the middle of the meeting. The eyes stared out, they were lifeless but with a malevolent aspect to them, the snarling muzzle captured in its moment of hate, with its tongue hanging loosely over its disjointed savage teeth.

  Clawhand looked upon it with loathing, “Do we leave the Wolf fold to such a fate, to hunt alone against our enemy; we have to meet this malice from our past.” He gestured toward the Wrath Generals head. “It is more than duty that should drive us on, but survival.”

  Hardjaw began to beat the ground with his paws. “What do you suggest we do?”

  “We inform the clans,” said Clawhand. “That we go to hunt the Wolfmen and we do it before it is too late, that leering face of the Wolfmen, that haunted our ancestors will not haunt our cubs.”

  Hardjaw remained unconvinced, “Man has always been a bitter enemy to us, invading our lands dispossessing us of our territories. Scar, why do you remain silent? Speak of what happened to your clan so many seasons ago.”

  Scar an old bear, the brown tufts under his jaw were greying his big brown eyes shone out with understanding, and aged experience, there was a large scar beneath his eye. He turned first one way then the other, looking at Clawhand and Hardjaw, and then around at the gathering.

  “The reason,” he said. “Why I have kept silent is because I know the threat that the Wolfmen possess, but also I know of the threat of man. As some of you know my Clan used to live throughout these woods. We were a proud race, the oldest of the Clans of the Golden bears. Until men ventured into our territory, disrupting our hunting grounds, turning the trees over to grow tall grasses, making our prey flee. They would hunt us for our furs, as they have none of their own. We thought at first that this weak insignificant animal that hunted like Wolves, in packs, was not hardy enough to last, but we did not understand they have powers, such as the making of fire. They take the limbs off the trees and make biting teeth with them. They make long talons which can slash and cut deeper than the sharpest bear claws. It is for this reason that we fear men, but what I also know of man is that although they have power to take all, they don’t. Yes, we were driven out, but look how we have grown and thrived. Man is a strange creature, unpredictable, because he takes more than he should, but less than he can. He will fight with his own kind, but then will care for those that are weak and vulnerable of his race. He troubles the world and yet wishes to live in it. When he drove my clan away, men came found some of our cubs and tendered to them until they were hardy enough to return to the forest. Hardjaws words are naïve and show he doesn’t yet understand the Wolfmen. The Wolfmen have dark hearts, they ravage, they consume, and they destroy. They make a wasteland of everything, and are proud, and cunning. They spread out like fire ants to devour all. I would rather live with men than with the Wolfmen. Which are a curse, a curse to the land, a curse to those they prey upon, and a curse unto themselves. So I say to war, let us rid ourselves of this blight once and for all.”

  A bellowing rose once more, as all the bears began to thump the ground. They started to growl fiercely, loud enough that the noise echoed throughout the forest. It was agreed they would join with the Wolves and fight mans lair of Stone Caves.