Wisely, the two men did not overwhelm me with still more silent communication, but Erst whispered quietly as we parted.
“Angstrom, we thank you for your willingness to listen to us, to learn from us, and we hope, to help us. We can appreciate how bewildering this all has been, but we are grateful that you have seen fit to hear us out.”
With that, I stepped into the small house, to find it illumined by yet another of those torches I had seen illuminating the circle’s gathering place. I looked closely at it, as it was not so bright as to hurt my eyes. It glowed more than burned, and looking into it was relaxing, like staring into the embers of a fire as it burns down. It gave off little heat, just a gentle warmth.
I realized I had no idea what the hour was or when people were likely to be stirring. I decided it would be better to lay down before I fell down, so I quickly pulled the covering back on the pallet that had been prepared since I was last here, kicked off my boots, pulled off the tunic I had been given, and laid down. I looked at the glowing lamp and it seemed to grow dimmer very slowly but perceptibly.
* * *
Light filled the room as I slowly opened my eyes. It took a moment to recall the events of yesterday, to realize where I was, and with a feeling akin to falling off a roof, what had been discussed and where I fit into it all.
I stretched my arms out and looked for my boots, where I had left them. Nothing there. Had I been so tired as to forget where I put them? I raised myself on one elbow and looked around. They were by the door, and I was sure I had not put them there. I pulled myself up to a sitting position and looked around. Everything else was as I remembered leaving it. The tunic was draped over a chair that, like the pallet, had been been here in the afternoon. My other clothes were on the seat of the chair, but that didn’t concern me. Anything that happened before I returned last night was no mystery, but my boots moving themselves and getting themselves cleaned was another matter.
I got up, pulled on the tunic against the chill of the morning, and found a freshly filled water jug on the table, as before. I drank deeply, and then washed up as best I could. I felt like I had traveled for many days or weeks, and crossed many miles since I had last washed and rested.
My pack was where I had left it, but I decided not to sample anything I had stowed away in there. I would take my chances on what hospitality was offered. I stepped into my boots, laced them up, and stepped out.
The grass was still wet with dew, so it was not as late as I feared. The sun was not high, but the sky was clear and cloudless, and the chill was unnoticeable as I stood in the sunlight. I looked around the clearing, and saw a few people up and about. The fire where I had met Erst and Reckter was out, with only a wisp of smoke coming up from the embers. No one looked at me, and I was reminded that I would be known to everyone as an outsider, a possible danger to them all, while I knew none of them.
After an unbroken sleep, all I could think of was breaking my fast. The politics of my presence here and the fears provoked by my sudden arrival were secondary right now. I realized I didn’t know where the few people I knew by name — Erst, Reckter, Anatha — lived. I looked around but nothing looked familiar, especially as it had been pitch dark when I had seen this all last. I couldn’t even be sure I knew the way to the clearing where the tumultuous meeting had been held.
I walked to the two log benches and the now extinguished fire. I walked around the benches and alternately looked around the clearing and at the logs. Nothing registered. I did know the way out, if nothing else. The path I had followed to get here was plain to see, and I suppose if nothing else, it was good to know that. I looked along it and saw something moving, something shadowy and indistinct in the gloom under the leaves. I looked away and looked back, in case my eyes were playing tricks, and realized it was something very like a bear. As it drew closer, it saw that I was watching and stopped. There was something unbearlike in how it stood and looked at me, and I realized it was very likely my guide of yesterday (again, the sense of having fallen from a great height). He signed at me to keep still and pay him to attention, and I looked away to see if anyone had noticed what I had seen. No one paid any attention to me, and when I looked back he was gone.
The way I was being ignored could no longer be taken as accidental. I realized it was going to take some effort to gain the trust of some, and I knew from experience that some would never fully take to me.
Suddenly, there was a commotion behind some of the dwellings, a roaring and the sound of tree branches being broken, whipped around, and a stomping of feet. Through a gap between two dwellings I could see a large brown shape lunging through the undergrowth, and the screams and shouts of people waking to the sounds of destruction. As the screams started, they were answered by snarls that made my hair stand up. Their volume and ferocity were terrifying.
By now people were clearing out of the trees, from the dwellings, and running toward where I stood. The sounds of mayhem and destruction continued behind the trees and dwellings and the flow of people fleeing stopped. There was some quick head-counting, to see if anyone had been left behind. Evidently, no one was. The roaring diminished in intensity and everyone watched to see if the great beast would leave or if he would destroy everything in his path. One or two young men stepped forward to see better what was happening. The brown shape continued to move just out of sight, and they followed what they could of its progress by sound. The noises diminished, and there was nothing to hear, no trampling, no crunch of leaves. One of the young men stepped forward slowly, a long staff in his hand, arm bent in readiness. He walked slowly, balanced on his toes, knees bent, ears and eyes taking in every sensation. He was few steps from the edge of the clearing, looking to his left, when just to his right the bear suddenly straightened to full height and roared. Screams echoed around me, children burst into tears, and the bear’s quarry turned quickly, brought back his arm and let the staff go quickly, in one movement.
The bear took one step forward, the roar still echoing from his enormous snout, and caught the staff in a human hand that was suddenly seen to belong to a human body, that of Therian.
“You could hurt someone with that, if you’re not careful, lad.” With a mixture of a grin and a frown, he tossed it back to its owner, and looked at the crowd of formerly terrified, now furious villagers. If he was at all adept at reading the thoughts of others, I was sure he was getting a strong message, but he seemed not to care. He folded his arms across his chest and looked at them all. The one who had thrown the staff was weighing it in his hand, pondering a second attempt. One glare from Therian put a stop to that idea, and he rejoined the others.
“Ask yourselves what you were afraid of, just then. You say, you were afraid of a bear. But what of that? Do bears attack people? Some of you are afraid of the world outside, of what lies outside the barrier, through the breaches. One who comes from the other side stands there among you. Have you shown him the courtesy of a greeting? Offered him an opportunity to break his fast? If he or what he represents frighten you, why run from the known to the unknown?
“Does a bear have to teach you your manners?”
There was some murmuring and furtive looking about, as people do when they feel ashamed or angry. They were angry at the interloper, and it seemed plain this was not the first time he had gotten everyone upset to make a point. The crowd gradually dispersed, some back to their homes, others back to the cooking fires. The young men, including the one who had thrown his weapon, walked away, talking amongst themselves and looking over their shoulders. Youthful belligerence, especially in groups, was in style even here.