Fool’s Quest

As the others emerged he became aware of us and made a leisurely decision to display his size for us. He lifted himself onto his hind legs and stood looking down at us with his glittering black eyes. He was a big one. Very big. His mouth was ajar, taking in our scent and incidentally displaying sizable teeth. I could smell his hot breath on the cold winter air, and in it the carrion stink of infection.

“Spread out, but walk slowly,” I suggested to the others in a low voice as they came fumbling out of the tent. “Move apart from one another. If he charges, we scatter. Don’t bunch up where he can get all of us.”

I could hear Spark’s panting breath. They emerged last, with the Fool caped in one of his skirts. Spark had the sense to keep hold of the Fool’s sleeve as she began to tug him sideways away from the group. The bear’s glittering gaze followed them.

Food, I reminded him. Smell it. Apples. Maybe bacon or fish? Perhaps a pot of honey. I could only suggest. The Wit-magic allows me to reach toward an animal but it does not assure that the animal will accept my thoughts. It certainly gives me no power to command a wild creature. And sometimes it is a mistake to try to touch minds.

It certainly was this time. I sensed his pain and he did not like that I knew his weakness. The bear gave a low huff, an angry sound. “Stand still,” I warned the others. “Do not run.” I lifted my sword. It had never felt smaller in my hand. The bear looked around at the human statues. I spared one sideways glance for Spark and the Fool. They were the most vulnerable, weaponless and the Fool unsighted. They were both in their stocking feet. Spark still had the Elderling cloak bundled around her. The rest of us could run. Lant and I both had swords, and Per had his staff in his hands.

But the bear decided we were no threat. He dropped back to all fours. He snuffed Lant’s pack. His thick black claws were as big around as sausages, with deadly sharp tips. He demonstrated their power as he casually tore the pack open, scattering the contents over the snow. Lant made a dismayed noise. “Stand steady,” I told him, and he obeyed. I tipped my eyes toward Spark. She looked haggard but her jaw was set with determination. Moving slowly, she had lifted one side of the butterfly cloak and was trying to drape it around the Fool. He was hugging himself against the cold, fear and misery on his face. What did he perceive? The warmth emanating from such a large creature, the sounds it made as it ransacked Lant’s supplies? I studied the bear, estimated his size and strength. “Per. Get up that tree behind you. He’s too big to climb it. Go. Now.”

For a wonder, the boy obeyed. He moved silently and swiftly. The tree was not an easy one to climb but the boy was inspired. One safe.

“Lant. Now you go.”

“No.” His voice was deadly calm with terror. “Two swords are better than one. I’m not going to attack him, but if he comes after you, I’ll do my best.”

I shot him a sideways glance. Chade’s son. Where had this man suddenly come from? “Very well,” I conceded. The bear was struggling with something wrapped in several layers of waxed cloth. “We’re going to move back and away.”

Spark had moved the Fool slowly toward what she perceived as their only possible escape. The dense forest behind us offered them no clear place to run. She’d followed the edge of the pavilion and the old stonework, working her way around the curve until she was now nearing the stone pillar. With a sinking heart, I realized that the bear was now between them and me. I could see the panicky rise and fall of her chest as they edged closer and closer to the portal. I saw her lips move and watched the Fool tug the glove from his silvered hand. I could not hear what she said to him but I saw his tight nod. “Don’t!” I said in a low voice. “Don’t chance it. Once he’s had all the food, he will likely leave. Stand still.”

The bear lifted his head at my words. He had attempted to eat the cheese, waxed cloth and all. It had tangled in his teeth and now he pawed irritably at his mouth, trying to dislodge it with his claws. He rumbled his displeasure and then gave an abrupt snarl of pain. Sometimes old bears have bad teeth, and the cloth was wrapped around one. He gave a sudden roar of fury and Spark gasped shrilly. He turned his head sharply toward them. His eyes, small and snapping black with anger, focused on them. In terror, she dragged the Fool toward the pillar.

“No!” I shouted.

Bears walk and bears shamble. Bears also charge swiftly, swifter than a healthy man can run. He was an old bear but the Fool was blind. I could not outrun a bear. The Fool and Spark did not have a chance. The bear ignored my shout and went after them, closing the distance, roaring as he went. There was no time to think, no time to debate which was the lesser danger. “Go!” I shouted at the Fool and Spark.