While Anna was getting her bottom fingered and slathered somewhere out of everyone’s view, the Comte sat down with the villagers of Forez and the bark-skinned elders of the forest. Were I in the Roseland with the Baron’s council, I would have been asked to join in the conversation, but outside the Barony, I was just a lowly peasant. I hung around and listened to the conversation while enjoying a large fig that was as sweet as honey.

Judging by the composition of the villagers who had made it to the forest, it was quite obvious what had happened. Dads and uncles stayed behind in the village in order to buy precious time for their family to rush to safety. The folks were devastated by the news of what we had found in the village and the Seigneur’s manor. Nevertheless, they were grateful and thanked the Comte for bothering to come to look for them.

“Pray, do tell,” the Comte asked an elder among the villagers, “you thought the forest would be safer?”

“At first we weren’t running for the forest, milord. We went to ask Marion what to do, and she led us here.”

“Wouldn’t the Treedwellers have slaughtered you all?” The Comte asked.

An old Treedweller spoke our language and answered in a rather deep yet brittle voice.

“Any other folks, we would have. Not this. This. Marion’s friends.”

The Comte exchanged glances with Victor and Henry.

“Marion is the woman who is treating your young lady’s bottom, My Lord,” a villager explained, “she is the witch of this land.”

According to the villagers, Marion had suddenly appeared about twenty years ago. A barefooted lone feral teenage girl dressed in a tattered robe walked into the village and demanded that she be fed and sheltered. The villagers laughed and spat on her face and chased her out with a hail of stones. Then she came back with a pack of wolves and a flock of ravens and a swarm of hornets.

“Witchcraft!” The Comte gasped.

“Indeed, milord. But Marion is benevolent. Once we submitted ourselves, she has looked after us ever since.”

“Marion, not witch.” The old Treedweller disagreed. “She, friend of the forest. She, Barkskin.”

The villagers shook their heads.

I was paying only half attention. My mind was wandering; that blindfolded woman, Marion, said something I had heard many years ago. The hundred suns and the thousand trumpets. And the suffocating air. My good old pal, the priest, may he rest in peace, died because his frail old body could not withstand the overwhelming presence of the divine. This woman, Marion, was sensing the same thing.

I had to think quick. I couldn’t possibly let anyone know Anna’s real identity unless I wished to rock this world to the core. A goddess walking among the mortals… that news once spread, would turn the world upside down. I had to come up with a plausible answer for the inevitable question Marion would ask. ‘What do I carry?’ I ran the encounter with Marion again and again in my head. Judging by the fact that she was addressing me and me only I figured she still had no idea the overbearing sensations were originating from Anna. That somewhat made sense. The divine presence must have been so intense at this close proximity Marion and her friends of the woods probably could not pinpoint the exact origin. Thanks to that, although the so-called friends of woods had correctly identified me as a born again, Marion had, if my guess was right, incorrectly assumed that I had something to do with the abnormal sensation she was experiencing. That was something I could exploit. ‘I have to shift the attention away from Anna!’ But how exactly?

“-and she’s also a very good midwife,” a village woman was saying. The conversation was apparently about the witch, Marion.

“And she grinds dried herbs and makes medicines,” another one added.

The Comte corked his head a bit, somewhat disappointed.

“I had thought witchcraft was more… magical.”

“Marion, magic? Ha! No.” The elder Treedweller shook his head and scoffed. “She, friend of the forest. She, Barkskin.”

“Dear Seigneur Treedweller,” Sieur Henry asked cautiously, “by the word Barkskin, do you refer to yourselves?”

The Treedweller pointed at himself.

“I, Barkskin,” then he pointed at Sieur Henry. “You, humen. Marion, my granddaughter. Thus, Barkskin.”

“In a way, yes,” a woman’s voice rang from the edge of the clearing. Marion was squeezing through the residents of the forest, with red-faced Anna in tow. They had removed Anna’s armor and the trousers and draped a thin blanket around her waist. I smiled a little at the sight of the men blushing and turning their heads away as Anna’s bare ankles and shins were visible. Marion was carefully holding a large star-shaped leaf of the shrub that had proven itself to be a pain in the ass. She sat herself down next to the Treedweller, who had claimed to be her granddad. Anna skirted around the people sitting on the mossy ground of the clearing and stood by me. From the look of her face, I could tell the experience had been humiliating.

‘She stuck her finger-’

“Whoa, let’s not talk about that.” I grabbed her hands so she could not make the gesture of a finger being inserted into a bodily orifice.

“This,” Marion held up the leaf for better display, “is quite common in Forez. Tell your men not to touch them with bare hands. Also, don’t wipe your bottoms with this. Please.”

I laughed and received a punch on my shoulder.

###

Marion was the result of one stupid man losing his control over his urge.

“Why he decided to force himself on a Treedweller, of all people… I mean of all creatures is beyond me,” she shook her head as she explained. She shrugged and continued, “but he somehow managed to succeed, and voila, I was conceived.”

I was a bit taken aback by the calm way she described her origin. She noticed it but shrugged it away. Marion was boiling the star-shaped leaves in a small pot, adding one leaf at a time. I sat next to her and watched the process. We were alone in her hut perched on a large branch, which she told me was her birth home. I looked around and noticed the lack of many things.

“Nowadays I only come back once every month or so… so it’s somewhat bare.”

Comeback, I digested the word.

“So, you are a half-”

“But I don’t look it, do I?”

I studied her for some seconds. She had long braided dark hair that reached her hip. Her skin had a slight hint of the Treedweller-yellow but remained human. I couldn’t tell much about her face, for the upper half was hidden behind the multiple wraps of clothes. Apart from the fact that she was about just over six feet tall, there were no signs she was a half Treedweller. Welp, at least from what I could see. I couldn’t tell what was underneath her olive-green robe.

“You are looking at my crotch,” she caught me, although I didn’t know how she did.

“I am sorry. It was just…” I blushed. I wondered if she could see my face through the blindfold. “I know a bit about roses and how they reproduce… so I was wondering…”

“No, Treedwellers do not have the pistil down there if that is what you are wondering. Barkskins are just the same as you humans. Except for the hair and the skin. But I am rather flattered you thought of me as a rose.”

I blushed even more.

“Anyway… mama was naive. She thought the baby, that is I, had done nothing wrong. Papi, of course, was furious,” Marion continued, tossing the rest of the leaves into the pot, “but papi still loves me nonetheless.”

She sighed and paused as if reminiscing. The water in the pot had thickened and was bubbling ‘blurp, blurp’. One large bubble waded to the surface and popped rather noisily, and Marion came back to her senses. She shook her head.

“When I was sixteen? Seventeen? Mama passed away. And the foolish young me thought I’d go find my father and tell him mama was dead.”

“Did you find your father?”

“No, but the nearby village found their witch.” She gave a wry smile. “A witch! I don’t even know any spell!”

I so wanted to protest but left it at that. Seeing through the blindfold? Talking to the sparrows? Sensing the divine? All that sounded very witch to me.

“But enough about me,” Marion changed the topic, stirring the content of the pot with a long wooden stick, “René. Of the Tavern. You are a reborn.”

“But I’m just René,” I played innocent. Her face turned my way as if she was looking into my eyes.

“You really don’t know?”

“All I know is Father wished he hadn’t lost three kids.”

“Hmm…”

Marion kept silent and concentrated in stirring the pot. The water had turned brownish and was getting thicker.

“I am more concerned,” She broke the silence, “about this overwhelming presence. I thought it was related to you being a reborn, but… I am not so sure now.”

I gulped. It was the time that I misdirected her. It was a bit wild idea that I had, but it was the only idea. I could not come up with anything better.

“Come down with me, and I show you something.”

It took us a while to reach the edge of the forest, where we had left our horses and carts. The few men who were left behind to guard the stuff sprang up and bowed to Anna. I had grabbed her on the way, which I soon regretted. I should have let her put on her trousers first before dragging her through the thick forest; the thin blanket draped around her waist offered no protection, and now she was getting scratches all over her legs. She complained all the way, and I, for once, was glad she was a mute.

We found Slinky, and I rummaged through my travel sack. It did not take long for me to find what I was looking for.

“Here, have a look.” I handed over the La Rose banner to Marion. “Er… sorry. Can you actually see?”

“What is this?” Marion felt the thick sheet of embroidered cloth.

‘What are you doing?’ Anna was asking, but I ignored her for now.

“It is the banner of the La Rose family,” I explained. The La Rose banner, I bitterly recalled someone saying, carried the weight of a hundred baronies and a dozen maquisats. It was the symbol of the absolute loyalty to the kingdom, and the king’s reciprocated faith in the La Rose. It was the epitome of all that was noble and honored.

“Do you sense anything special?” I asked Marion, carefully studying her face. I could not see what expressions her eyes were making, but she was chewing her lips. “As far as the kingdom is concerned, this is the holy of the holy.”

“I…,” Marion hesitated, “I don’t know. I am not sure.” She shook her head and concentrated, her hands gently running over the banner.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Anna.

‘Is it really that important?’

Are you kidding me, I thought. This was her freaking banner. I was about to give Anna a lesson on her own family’s history when Marion handed me back the banner.

“Nope. This is not it.”

My heart sank. She was not buying my bullshit. She sighed and looked around, which again made me wonder if she could actually see.

“Although I am sure this has a significant value among the nobles, it can’t be this banner,” Marion said, “I would have felt the presence getting stronger and stronger as we came closer.”

OK, I thought. That was a straightforward logic that I should have considered myself. Now I was out of ideas.

“This feeling… the sensation has remained almost the same while we walked through the forest. The unchanging factor was,” I felt her piercing through me by whatever method she used to see things. “Was you, René. You have stayed near me the whole time.”

“Are you saying the blinding light and the deafening noise are coming from me?”

“I cannot think of any other source.”

‘What are you two talking about?’ Anna asked, but I ignored her again. The conclusion Marion had reached wasn’t exactly what I was looking for. On the other hand, she was utterly oblivious to Anna’s divinity. ‘Fine, I will take it.’

Anna’s bottom was doing better, thanks to whatever Marion had done to it. Marion silently watched me help Anna put on clean pairs of leather trousers and boots fished out of my travel sack. After that, she helped me carry the fish, skewered in arrows, into the forest. We were heading back to the Treedwellers’ dwelling. We walked in silence, and on the way, we crossed a small group of Barkskins and the villagers carrying baskets of fruits and meads.

“These are for your men looking after the horses,” one of them said as they passed. I noticed how the villagers got off the narrow trail briefly and skirted around Marion, in both fear and respect. It contrasted with the way the Treedwellers patted on her shoulder and head as they strode past. Marion must have noticed my gaze.

“To the Barkskins, I am papi’s sweet young granddaughter. But to the folks, I’m the witch of the land. They fear me.”

“Is that why you live far away from them? We passed a little hut on the way from the village.”

“Yes, that is my humble home. The village folks generally stay away unless they need something from me.”

I recalled the hectic desperate footprints around Marion’s hut. When their lives were in danger, the first thing the villagers did was running to Marion. I thought about how I would handle being in her position; desperate people rushing to me fully convinced I would have the right answer to their problem. I thought about what would take for a person to reach such a status, especially for someone at Marion’s age. Her medicines must have worked every single time. Her answers to the matters brought to her must have always been wise and reliable. Her power displayed must have inspired ever-lasting awe. To the people of the land, Seigneurs were too distant who generally lived in their own worlds. But a witch was accessible, albeit scary. Hence Marion was the matron guardian of the village. The judge. The doctor. The arbitrator. The midwife. The teacher. Such was what it meant to be a witch of the land. Feared yet respected. And much needed, especially by the simple folks of the land. It was thus natural that those unlucky ones who did not have their own Marion, in their desperate times, turned to the divine and prayed.

I glanced at Anna, who was concentrating on her steps as not to trip over little rocks and tree roots and vines. The mortals had long forgotten about her. It took tremendous divine efforts to bring me here as an emergency measure stopping her from fading away to nothingness. I so wanted to ask her because it somehow felt important. ‘Did you answer any of their prayers, Anna, did you?’

###

There were about eighty of the Comte’s men on top of roughly the same number of the villagers. I couldn’t count all of the Treedwellers, who called themselves Barkskins, but I was sure there were more than a hundred. And I only had three dozen fish. There was no other option but to make soup; at least everyone would have a bowl of fish-tasting liquid. Hopefully, with some vegetables thrown in. The women from the village were having a heated discussion with their Barkskin counterparts regarding what else to toss into the gigantic pot that was boiling in the middle of the large clearing. I hung around and listened to various ideas flying around between the women. I was genuinely interested and had already picked up some useful hints and ideas that I could try the next time I make fish soup.

Anna was milling about, slightly annoyed. The sun had gone down, and it was fast approaching her usual bed-time. Although she had already had some fruits and jerkies, she wanted to have the fish soup, too, before going to bed, but the soup was taking too long for her patience. Anna wasn’t pleased with the bedding arrangement either. Shortly after we had returned from my Slinky, she realized I hadn’t brought our tent and bedrolls.

“She can sleep with me in my hut,” Marion had offered, which I accepted. Anna was terrified of this woman, what with the unpleasant experience she had had earlier today. She insisted that I, too, sleep INSIDE the hut with her just in case Marion was planning to do some other horrendous things to her bottom.

After much fussing and pacing about, Anna ran out of steam. She sat down cross-legged on the mossy ground, close to the pot, and silently watched the logs burn. Her cheeks were rosy pink from the heat, and her lips slightly ajar. She sat there, absent-mindedly toying with a patch of moss, until I told her to go sit somewhere else because she was getting in the way of people and Treedwellers, who were preparing the communal meal. Lips pouting, Anna stomped away to the edge of the clearing and sat down there. I became worried the warmth from the fire wouldn’t reach that far. I borrowed some blanket from the Barkskins and approached Anna, who was, as I had suspected, shivering from the chill air.

‘Sit with me for a while,’ she pulled me down next to her as I put the blanket around her.

We sat there silently watching the scene in front of us. The air above the massive pot in the center of the clearing was wobbling, and soon enough steam started to rise. Across the circular clearing was the Comte and his entourage, engaged in some discussion with the villagers and the elders of the Barkskins. Marion was there, too, and it seemed both the villagers and the Treedwellers had entrusted her to speak on their behalf. I noticed Sieur Henry among the group. I could not hear what he was saying, but clearly, he was actively participating in the discussion. I was impressed with how well he integrated himself into the Comte’s men in mere days.

“It’s going to be like this from now on,” I nudged Anna. She rested her small head on my shoulder and motioned for me to elaborate.

“It was just you and me when we left the manor. But from now on…” I could not think of a proper way to finish the sentence. I myself couldn’t exactly put my thoughts into words. It must have been the appreciation of the reality; we were two little country bumpkins out in the big world. A world that was too big and too complicated.

Anna did not say anything, but I felt she understood what I was trying to say. That feeling alone was reassuring. After all, she and I were literally born for each other.

The soup was ready. A Treedweller brought us two clay bowls with wooden spoons. It was a bit comical how the tall figure walked so carefully, trying not to spill the hot contents. The soup was good, with onions and potatoes and some herb that was unknown to me thrown in. Once finished, I studied the etching inside the clay bowl. It was a repeating pattern of some leaves, elaborately etched onto the clay surface before fired in the kiln. The spoon was also a good solid piece of woodwork.

Belly full, Anna was dozing off, her eyes half-closed and the head rolling off from my shoulder occasionally. I was wondering how I would bring her up to Marion’s hut on the tree.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep now. I can’t carry you up,” I was saying when Sieur Henry walked across the clearing and came to a stop in front of us. He paused for a moment and studied us with amused eyes. I quickly brushed off Anna’s head from my shoulder and moved away from her, putting a little distance between us. I had to reach out and grab her to prop her upright.

“Never mind, lad. By now, everyone knows you two are close,” Henry winked.

“We are indeed close, my good Sieur, but not in that way.”

“As you say. I wish to ask Her Ladyship of her plan, but…”

I shook Anna’s shoulder, and she jerked her eyes open, now awake. She shot me an annoyed look, which quickly went away upon realizing the Sieur was before us.

According to Henry, the villagers had decided they would like to stay with the Treedwellers for now. There was nowhere for them to go; their village burnt down, their fathers and husbands dead. A group of homeless women and children and old men aimlessly roaming around the land that had lost its Seigneur would not end well. Apparently, to my amusement, Comte d’Armas had offered the villagers refuge in OUR Roseland.

‘I would have offered so anyway,’ said Anna, not minding it at all.

“I am afraid,” the Sieur looked sad, “the villagers have more faith in the Treedwellers than in fellow people. Although I understand their sentiment, it is truly regrettable that our kingdom has come to such a state.”

“The Sieur wished to ask Lady Anna of her plan?” I tried to change the topic seeing how the whole thing was making this man depressed. He gave me a quick look of appreciation.

“Yes, indeed. My Lady, the Comte, satisfied that the folks are in safe hands, has decided His Lordship would deliver the much-deserved justice to Baron Hugo. I wish to know what Your Ladyship intends to do.”

Anna and I exchanged glances. Sieur Henry looked eager, which told us he wanted to go with the Comte. We were puzzled. Was he inviting Anna?

“In case you have forgotten,” Henry noticed our confusion and smiled, “even though I walk around freely, I still am a prisoner of the young lady.”

‘Will there be more fighting?’ asked Anna.

“If the Baron still has an army left in Bourg, then yes.”

‘Then we go,’ Anna announced without any hesitation. Borrowing my voice, of course.

Henry bowed swiftly and bid us a good night. We were leaving the forest in the morning.

###

From across the clearing, I had noticed Marion arguing with her grandfather, their voices rising. After a while, She stomped to us in frustration.

“Your young lady is half asleep. Let’s bring her up to my hut.”

Marion went away and came back with extra sets of blankets and pillows for us. Probably borrowed from neighbors. As soon as Anna lied down, she fell sound asleep.

“Would you step outside for a moment? I need to renew the treatment on her…,” opening a jar filled with a gooey substance, Marion nodded at the general direction of Anna’s lower half. I quickly stepped outside as she got down and inserted her hands underneath the blanket. Standing outside of the hut on the massive tree branch, I blushed, hearing the rustling sound of Anna’s trousers being pulled down. This felt so wrong.

The night had come surprisingly early here in the forest, and the air was chilly. I shivered and shuffled on my feet, waiting for Marion to be done with applying her ointment on my Anna. When she called out to me, I rushed in and slid myself under the blanket.

“It has become cold in the night, hasn’t it?” whispered Marion, “soon, the winter will come.”

I turned to my side and looked up. Marion had her back on me, half crouched. She was packing, gathering things from her already bare huts, and stuffing them into a large travel sack.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“I’m going with you lot.”

She turned her head and met my baffled eyes. Or rather, I imagined her eyes behind the blindfold met mine.

“Get some sleep. And stop staring at my arse.”

With that, she got back to packing. I turned around and closed my eyes, trying to fall asleep.

Which was very difficult because later in the night Marion’s papi came and they started arguing again. It got so heated they were practically screaming at each other in whispers. I kept my eyes shut and pretended to be sleeping. Although I could not understand a single word they were saying, I kinda figured out what the argument was about. Papi didn’t want his precious granddaughter to go.

I pretended to turn in my sleep, and that made them quiet down for a few seconds. Only for a few seconds. I opened my eyes ever so slightly and saw, from time to time, Marion and the Treedweller pointing their fingers at me while they continued to argue. The two hushed up again when Anna turned in her sleep. I quickly shut my eyes just in time as their heads turned our way. Oh, Anna, you goddamned- I could sense Anna rolling out of her blanket and into me. She pushed my hands away and curled up in my chest, burying her head slightly below my neck, blowing hot breath, which tickled. The smell of her unwashed hair was a bit too much, and I made a mental note to do something about it in the coming days. I heard Marion gasp and immediately felt a blanket thrown over us. Her grandfather let out a couple of embarrassed ‘Ahem’s. Oh, no, don’t tell me… I slowly moved my hand under the blanket and felt the smooth skin of Anna’s bare legs. Marion, obviously, didn’t put the trousers back on after she had her way with Anna’s bottom. ‘My, my. This isn’t going to look good in the morning,” I thought.

###

Morning came, and I woke up to find the tip of a spear in my face. A Barkskin was pointing it at me, while another one stood by him and had an axe above Anna's head. Marion was nowhere to be seen.

"Come." The Treedweller said in a deep voice.

I sat up and shook Anna, trying to wake her up. It was too goddamn early in the morning for this lazy girl.

"Come." The Treedweller said again, this time aided by his spear to get his message perfectly across. Although I was terrified, I had to get Anna up and dressed. I could not think straight, and in my panic, I lifted Anna's blanket for a second or two. Their eyes went wide, and the faces went orange. The two Barkskins quickly turned around.

"Be quick. We wait outside," they said and went outside.

I managed to wake Anna up and helped her get dressed. She did not ask why she woke up bottomless, but she did get my worried look. There wasn't much I could do. Marion must have packed everything; there was nothing left I could use to wash my girl's face or brush her hair or anything. Not even the tinkle tinkle piss-pot for the lady. I silently cursed myself for having left all my gears back there with Slinky. This was not a good way to start a morning.

We were brought down to the clearing, where the Comte's men were being brought in from wherever they had spent the night. The clearing was surrounded by Treedwellers spotting spears and arrows and axes; very imposing. We were told to sit down and... were served fruits and nuts and hot tea? I looked around. The villagers were among the Treedwellers, watching us with worried faces. 'What the heck is going on?'

"Another sunny yet crispy morning," Sieur Henry greeted us from several paces away. He was sitting with other knights, drinking teas. I was a bit baffled by how they just sat there, taking it easy.

"Sieur, what is happening?"

"I am not sure. Let us wait and see."

'Is she the one behind all this?' Anna asked and pointed at Marion, who was standing next to her grandfather, cheeks flustered, lips pouting and arms crossed. She seemed very pissed.

"Looks like she isn't thrilled with the situation," I commented. I was worried I couldn't eat. I settled with the tea to calm myself down and gave my fruits and nuts to Anna, which made her delighted, which in return made me shake my head. Sometimes she could be very complicated, but sometimes she was too simple.

The last group to be brought in was the Comte and Victor and a few more men. The Comte didn't seem to be fazed at all, and I had the impression this was not the first time he had woken up to find a sharp object in his face. Victor, the Vicomte, though, was shaking badly. Now that was a man of my kind.

"Eat. Drink. And listen," the Treedweller spoke loudly in his deep yet brittle voice. Marco, the Comte, sat down and gingerly stuffed a handful of nuts into his mouth. He did not say anything, but his eyes were bright. The old man was curious. The grandfather Barkskin continued.

"My sweet apple wishes to go. With you. Marion, not a child. I cannot dissuade her," he shook his head sadly. All eyes fell on Marion, and she blushed, yet still remained pissed.

The Comte swallowed down nuts in his mouth and drank a large gulp of the steaming tea. He stood up.

"If that has led to this... unpleasant treatment of your guests, then I propose a simpler solution. What if I, the humble leader of this group of men, told your Marion, the mademoiselle in question, that she cannot come with us?"

"Oh, I'm coming with you regardless what you say," Marion spoke up in a sharp tone. It made the villagers cower, which did not go unnoticed by the Comte.

"May I ask; why?"

"There is a..." Marion paused in search of words, "an overwhelming presence of unknown among you," her blindfolded head was facing me as she spoke, "I need to find out if it poses harm to the people of the land."

"The blinding light and the blaring trumpets you told us yesterday?" the Comte asked. He turned and searched among his men. Looking for me. He found me and pointed at me.

"You had asked for him yesterday, called him a reborn. But, mademoiselle, he's just a harmless common lad."

"You say so, but I wish to be certain. For now, what is certain is that I am coming with you."

Her papi sighed and hung his head low.

"Then I presume," the Comte gestured around, "since she cannot be dissuaded from leaving, you plan to persuade us, by force, to stay?"

The Treedweller raised his head again. He seemed reluctant.

"Marion can go. If humen strong. Protect Marion, keep her safe. If humen weak, Marion not safe. Humen stay. Marion stay."

The Comte ran the sequence of words in his head, putting them into a coherent sentence.

"We have crushed Baron Hugo's army. Is that not strong enough for your liking?"

"Humen kill Utaroque, you strong."

There was a collective gasp among the Treedwellers. Even Marion had her jaw dropped. She grabbed her granddad's elbow and protested in their language. What the heck was Utaroque?

"Pray, do tell us, please," The Comte spoke patiently, "what is this Utaroque you speak of?"

Marion took a few steps forward and answered in her grandfather's stead. She seemed somewhat pale.

"Utaroque is a beast. A gigantic bear."

Then the villagers of Forez gasped in unison.

"The Grande Arctos?!" they were saying, exchanging glances with horror on their faces. It was evident that their Grande Arctos and the Treedwellers' Utaroque were the same one beast, a gigantic bear.

"A bear?" The Comte shrugged. He turned his head around to face the Vicomte, who shrugged back in return. "Fine, we go hunt this bear then."

###

We returned to the edge of the forest to get our gears. Marion came with us, but none of the Treedwellers tagged along, which I found very strange; we could just up and walk away, with Marion on tow whether we liked it or not. The Treedwellers wouldn’t be there to stop us. Or her.

“Forget about Utaroque, let’s just go. At once,” she urged.

“I gave my word. We hunt this Utaroque,” the Comte insisted. It seemed the old man was getting excited. His eagerness had spread among the men; they were chatting excitedly, getting ready to head back and go further deep into the forest, where Utaroque was supposed to reside.

Marion, on the other hand, had lost the colors on her face. She kept saying the Comte had made a mistake taking her papi’s challenge.

“The Grande Arctos is not an ordinary bear!”

According to her, Utaroque, also known as the Grande Arctos, was mad. So mad he would not listen or talk to Marion… whatever that meant. Apparently, the late Seigneur of Forez had tried numerous times to kill the Grande Arctos that was terrorizing the villages near the forest. The men who were sent after the bear had never returned. The Treedwellers, not only Marion’s tribe but the others as well, also failed to get Utaroque under control. The bear was, simply put, a menace to everyone.

The Comte put both his hands on the waist and stood tall before Marion.

“Mademoiselle, are you telling me even your kins cannot deal with this bear? Your kins, the Treedwellers, to whom I have entrusted the safety of my folks?”

“That is…” Marion stuttered, “true, but do not be alarmed. Utaroque rarely comes out this far to my papi’s dwelling.”

“Rarely does not necessarily mean never.

Marion shut up and bit her lips. The Comte looked around his men, meeting eyes one by one.

“All the more reason why we should go kill this bear,” he turned to face Marion again, “after all, the folks are your people, too. You are their witch of the land, mademoiselle.”

Marion shook her head and grumbled.

“You do not know what you are walking into.”

“Now, what do we know about a bear? Has anyone hunted one before?” The Comte asked his men. So, he had never hunted one, I figured.

“We did go hunt boars this spring with Your Lordship, milord,” one of the archers answered, which led to the men cheering and excitedly chatting about the hunting trip. Even the Comte smiled, reminiscing.

“Yes, It was a good trip. But boars are, if I am not mistaken, member of the swine family, not bears,” He turned his head towards Sieur Henry and raised an eyebrow.

“No, milord,” Henry shook his head and answered sheepishly, “I am afraid I have never seen, let alone hunted a bear. I hunt rabbits and pheasants mostly.”

Marion grunted and threw her hands in defeat. She crossed her arms and leaned back on a tree, pouting, but she remained silent.

“Hmm,” the Comte moved his eyes. His gaze was just about to pass Anna, not even bothering to ask. For some reason, I wanted to brag, although Anna and I had never hunted a bear either. I quickly stepped up, which got the Comte’s attention and arrested his gaze from moving away.

“Wolves and harpies, milord. And the usual herbivores.”

There was a brief silence. The Comte raised his gray eyebrows even higher.

“Harpies?”

With a gloating face, Anna tapped on her bow. I was pleased to see the men were impressed.

“And the wolves?” the Comte asked.

“Barehanded at first, milord, bows, and spears afterward,” I answered in her stead and stopped Anna from stripping. Yes, she wanted to show off her scars, but that would have been highly inappropriate. Besides, she was young, and her flesh had ever since grown anew; the scars had faded and were barely visible unless one knew what to look for.

“Barehanded?” lots of eyebrows were raised.

“Yes, milord. I must confess at the time we were the ones being hunted.”

We were interrupted by Marion scoffing.

“So, nobody has actually seen a bear, let alone hunted one?”

We all looked at each other. Well, it seemed Marion had made a very good point.

“Ahem,” Victor the Vicomte cleared his throat, “I have read a bit about bears, though.”

Bears were, according to Victor, fierce predators, generally of brown color. They grew almost as big as a large rock, and when standing on the hind feet, they were as tall as an adult Treedweller. Their clawed paws were as big and deadly as a spiked mace, one swipe of which would easily knock a strong man dead. They would either maul you in the head and crush your skull, or go for your anus, if not for the soft belly, and tear you apart alive.

“Well, you aren’t wrong, but…” Marion trailed off.

In the end, we settled on the tried and tested flush and drive method. Marion would guide us to the spot where Utaroque was known to frequent, and after that, the footmen of Armas would go around and flush out the bear, driving him towards the knights and the archers. We dropped swords and axes and maces, and instead took up spears as the Comte did not want any of his men getting that close to the beast. But Anna insisted on bringing her longsword, easy for her to say, for it was I who would have to carry that thing into the forest. Once again, leaving the horses and carts behind, we entered the forest.

###

We moved silently through the dense woods. We had passed Marion’s tribe a couple of hours ago and headed deeper into the forest. The trees were taller, blocking out the morning sun. They were denser, too, which made everyone question the viability of our bows.

Despite our lethal goal, the forest was tranquil. Birds chirped in colorful languages, and we heard some creatures making strange noises in the distance. The air was damp, but not unpleasant, and smelled of woods and autumn fruits. We walked on the soil, which was soft and springy from dead leaves and rotting barks; it was dark and rich, and I thought the gardener back at the Baron’s manor would love to have some brought to him.

Our progress was slow and deliberate; occasionally, someone would step on a dried twig, and the snapping noise alerted everyone. We would freeze in the spot for a moment, carefully looking around and listening to see if the sound had alerted some creatures, especially our target, the bear. The Comte did not want to scare the bear off. He said we need to kill it before it went into winter hibernation because we definitely would not be around when the bear return in the coming spring. That would mean us leaving the folks behind in the territory of a very dangerous beast. Upon hearing it, Marion scoffed and said,

“As I said, the Grande Arctos rarely comes that far. It will be fine.”

“Look, witch woman,” the Comte shot back, “would you please settle on the name, please? Utaroque or the Grande Arctos?”

I was with Anna, navigating through the dense woods, and ducking beneath low branches all the while carrying her longsword on my back. With the bow in one hand, Anna kept her head down, studying the ground and tree stumps for any signs of Utaroque. She sometimes stopped and perked her ears, listening. So far, no Utaroque.

We walked about half an hour further when Marion suddenly stopped. She had been leading the group from the front, and her stopping sent out a ripple of men coming to a stop and readying their spears and bows in anticipation. We held our breaths and tensed. I slowly angled the longsword down so Anna could easily pull it out of the sheath. We waited.

But Marion was frozen in the spot. After what felt like an eternity, she turned her blindfolded head around and faced us, but something seemed not quite right.

“I am blind.”

We exchanged glances, confused.

“Yes, we know,” the Comte whispered.

“What? No,” Marion fumbled with the strip of clothes that wrapped around her head, covering the eyes and the ears, “I am not an actual blind. This is to block out the light and the deafening noise.”

Anna and I tiptoed forward and came to a stop next to the baffled Comte. Sieur Henry joined us. He mouthed to me, ‘What is she talking about?’

“My eyes see things fine, in case you are wondering,” Marion was whispering to a vacant space in the air, frustrated, “but as long as that René boy is within a couple mile distance, I am blinded by the light, and deafened by the trumpets.”

I suddenly felt sorry for the poor woman, but to be honest, it wasn’t my fault. It was not very fair the blame was placed upon me. It was all Anna’s fault. Yes, Anna, thank you very much for being a divine goddess.

“Pardon me, mademoiselle,” Henry whispered, “then how have you been seeing? Or hearing? And why are you suddenly blind now?”

Marion was frustrated. It was as if she was trying to explain the simplest thing in the universe to an imbecile, but the imbecile kept failing to understand. It was that kind of frustration on her face.

“I’m blind because nobody is sharing their vision because there is nobody beyond this point.”

It took us a minute or two to finally understand what she meant. It was Anna who had noticed the silence in the woods. No birds were chirping. There were no rustling sounds of leaves as creatures of the forest moved about. She motioned for us to listen, and we came to the realization.

“Your friends of woods?” I dared to ask.

“Exactly!” Marion almost shouted. “I can’t see beyond this point because there are no friends sharing with me what they see.”

We ‘oh~’ed and ‘ah~’ed in awe. That was some seriously impressive witchcraft she had been using up to this point.

“And I presume,” the Comte braved a question, “that you are hearing us through… your friends of woods?”

Marion nodded. The Comte nodded, too, and turned around and craned his neck as if trying to find something behind us. Then I realized, too. This was as far as whatever the creatures behind us could see. They could still hear us fine, which was why Marion, too, could hear us. But in other words, beyond this point, there were no more Marion’s friends.

“That would mean we are close to Utaroque,” Sieur Henry came to the same conclusion.

The Comte called his knights around him, and we knelt on the ground forming a ring weaving through the trees; a field meeting began.

“If she can’t see, she can’t act as our guide,” the Vicomte pointed it out, “and I expect if we move further in, where the creatures of the woods do not wish to go…, once we pass their hearing range she will lose her… shared hearing, too.”

That was a legitimate concern. Marion would become a liability, a non-negligible issue, especially because we were getting close to Utaroque, the beast.

“Either we send her back,” the Vicomte continued, “or we send René back.”

Anna jumped up and started to frantically make hand signs. I didn’t even need to translate what she was saying.

“Well, young lady Anna would have to go with him, too, seeing how they are so inseparable,” Victor added.

The Comte shook his head.-

“I do not like the idea of sending either of the ladies back alone through the dangerous woods,” he looked around his knights, “and I really do not wish to detach a group of my men to send along as escorts and reduce our numbers, considering we are to face a beast of notorious reputation.”

“I could be the escort, milord,” Sieur Henry volunteered. The old count of Armas grimaced. Clearly, he also did not like the idea of not having the good Sieur around when facing the beast. All our options were not to the Comte’s liking, and thus we were back to square one. We sat there in silence, thinking.

“But, milord,” one of the knights spoke up, “allow me to remind Your Lordship the whole endeavor is a proof of our strength. The proof that we are capable of protecting the mademoiselle.”

Suddenly the Comte’s face lit up. He beamed a smile and patted the knight on the shoulder.

“Why, yes, thank you for reminding me why we are here,” he stood up, groaning a bit stretching his aged back, “that settles it. Mademoiselle Marion comes with us. Surely we can keep her safe, can we not?”

Victor grumbled, but the rest of the men let out a whispered cheer. We stood up, and soon we were on the move again, but this time led by Sieur Henry. Marion walked behind him with her hands on his shoulders, with a knight on each side looking after her footing. Needless to say, our progression was even slower and deliberate than before. We were stepping into the beast’s home ground.

###

We came across a large tree that fell along our path. It had been snapped at the trunk not too long ago.

“Marking its territory,” the Vicomte commented in a whisper, examining a patch of dark brown furs stuck on the bark and the sharp, jagged edge of the trunk, “must have rubbed against the tree to leave its scent.”

“And that was enough to fell this tree?” the Comte was impressed. “I am beginning to think this Utaroque is not an ordinary bear.”

At this point, our surrounding was utterly devoid of any living sound except for the leaves on the high up on the trees gently swaying and brushing against each other by the late morning’s breeze. There weren’t even any insects running on the ground. Every creature of the forest was afraid of this bear and stayed far away. We stood quiet and listened. It was again Anna, who picked up the sound before anyone could. There was a faint rumbling noise coming from far up ahead.

‘It’s snoring,’ Anna commented.

The Comte turned around, making as little noise as possible. He raised his hands and made a twirling gesture, a sign for the footmen to separate into two groups and go flank on both sides. The men split up and moved out quietly.

We were about to resume our progress forward. Sieur Henry gently tapped on Marion’s hand on his shoulder to let her know he was about to start walking.

“WHAT?”

One of the knights beside her hastily put his hand on her mouth, gagging her. To our ears that had accustomed to the silence, her voice was as if thunder boomed through the woods. She tried to say something but her voice was muffled by the hand of the knight. Soon she gave up and went silent. We were frozen in our place, eyes wide, listening. That faint rumbling of Utaroque snoring had stopped for a short moment but came back not too long after. We let out a soft sigh of relief. The knight slowly moved his hand away from Marion’s mouth, and she nodded. She pointed at her ear and shook her head. We were now beyond the effective hearing range of her woodland friends, who stayed far back; Marion was both blind and deaf, partially thanks to my Anna’s overwhelming presence.

We carefully skirted around the fallen tree and tiptoed forward. The archers spread out with their bows ready, taking up the forward positions. The knights moved slower, trying not to make any noise from their metal armors. As we progressed, we found more and more fallen trees, some even as thick as a yard in diameter. I shivered imagining what kind of force was exerted to do that. I was getting anxious and my heart was pounding like crazy. ‘This is not a bear, it’s a freaking monster!’ Anna noticed my worried face. She took hold of my hand briefly and squeezed before assuming a position in front of me. That made me somewhat less nervous; if Utaroque or whatever it was called came at me, it would first have to get through the divine intervention. We knelt and waited.

Nothing happened for what felt like an eternity. Then one of the men who had gone around to flush and herd the bear towards us came back, tiptoeing carefully. His face was pale.

“Milord, this is not going to work. You must see the beast for yourself.”

He pointed his finger deeper into Utaroque’s territory. We all noticed his hand trembling.

The man led us forward, and we reached the edge of a large clearing. In the center of the clearing, amidst numerous gray-white skeletons of various creatures, there it was. Utaroque. The Grande Arctos. A motherfucking monster of a bear as big as a house. Even though it was lying on its belly, the shoulders came up to at least seven feet high, heaving up and down as the unbelievably massive beast snored in its sleep.

In my previous life, I had seen elephants in the zoo. The African ones. This Utaroque was even bigger than an elephant. It was a freaking landwhale. Across the clearing, beyond the heap that was the beast, I could see the men among the trees. They had been tasked to wake up the bear and drive it to us, but as soon as I saw the bear with my own eyes, I knew the plan was not going to work. No wonder they sent a man back to consult the Comte. There was no way they could scare the bear and herd it into our position; we were the ones to be scared.

I could not take my eyes off the bear. I watched in awe with my mouth agape. A slight movement on my right broke me out of the mesmerized state; it was Anna scratching her bottom. Ah, yes, I remembered. Anna and her troubled bottom.

###

“This not going to work,” the Comte admitted, whispering. He looked around his men, noting their gears. He shook his head.

“Men with the armors only. The rest of you stay back with bows and help the Sieurs as best as you can. Now, let us regroup.”

The Comte motioned for a retreat. He signaled his men across the clearing, and they began to disappear into the woods ever so carefully. We quietly stood up and took backward steps, but all of a sudden, a loud ‘Twang!’ which sounded rather like a ‘Crack!’ rang right next to my right ear. I jumped up, almost shrieking, but quickly covered my mouth with a hand and turned my head to see what the heck made the noise. While turning my head, my eyes caught a glimpse of an arrow traveling in a straight line at an incredible speed. With a loud sound of something being ripped, the arrow pierced the sleeping bear’s large left earlobe and buried itself deep into the shoulder. Utaroque jerked its eyes open wide. Very wide.

There was a loud collective gasp around the edge of the clearing, followed by colorful profanities. All heads turned this way, including mine; of course, it had to be Anna. God fucking damned Anna. She was kneeling on the ground, having fired the shot. Her eyes were fixed on Utaroque that was slowly standing up with a rumbling growl.

“Né,” she called me out, still looking at the bear. Her face was that of utter confusion.

“Né,” Anna nudged me in the ribs with the arm holding the bow. She finally turned her face towards me.

‘Why isn’t it dead?’

“Seriously?” Face red, I almost yelled at her. I felt my veins popping. “You really thought a single arrow would kill that monster?”

‘It is just a bear,’ she shrugged. I was about to lose my temper when Utaroque stood tall on all fours and roared, which made my blood freeze, and all my hairs stand up. Instinctively we all dug down behind bushes and fallen trees and shrubs surrounding the clearing. Anna, of course, was readying another arrow, so I had to pull her down to the ground. I could hear Utaroque sniffing and grunting. Thankfully, the Comte’s men were spread around the circular clearing, which apparently presented too many sources of scent from too many directions for the bear to pinpoint a target of his wrath. I raised my head slightly above the fallen tree I was hiding behind. The gigantic beast standing on its fours reached at least ten feet high at its shoulders. I understood then and there why the Seigneur of Forez and the Treedwellers had failed to kill this bear. This thing was the very definition of impossible.

Anna’s arrow had not only pierced but nailed the bear’s earlobe to its left shoulder, which forced Utaroque to awkwardly tilt its head to the left as not to tear its ear off. The distressed bear went around in a circle counter-clockwise, growling and baring its sharp teeth, trying to shake free of the arrow. After the first couple of attempts, it tried to free its ear with the paws but couldn’t quite bend the forelegs the right way. It then grunted and sat down and scratched with its hindleg as dogs do. I heard the arrow shaft snap, and Utaroque’s ear was free at last. The bear stood up again and shook its big head. Then it began to circle around again, sniffing the air.

For fuck’s sake! A man on the other side of the clearing was too curious for his own good and poked his head out at the wrong time only to meet Utaroque’s eyes. The bear froze, and I saw the man’s face going pale.

Utaroque stood on its hind legs and roared. The sound was so terrifying, and so loud I had to cover my ears. The beast then thumped its front paws down on the ground with such force the trees shook, and the air vibrated. It did a couple more of the thumping, and each time I cringed, covering my ears, almost screaming. During all this, to my amazement, I still somehow managed to kick the bow out of Anna’s hand as she was once again trying to shoot the bear. I oh so did not want Utaroque’s attention in my general direction.

The poor man was rooted on his feet and was trembling so bad I could hear the gears on him clatter. Utaroque stood up again on its hind legs and started towards the man, its teeth bared, and a low rumble of rage-filled sound came out of the growling mouth.

“Oh, no!” I heard Sieur Henry gasp.

It happened so fast. Henry pushed oblivious Marion into my arms; “You watch her, my lad!” and he snatched a spear from the man beside him. The good Sieur then jumped over the fallen tree and entered the clearing. He walked towards the impossibly massive beast, banging the spear on his armored chest, Clang! Clang! Clang!

“Here, boy! Look this way! Look, I’m here!”

Utaroque turned around and seeing the Sieur in armor, it let out a frightening roar so loud I could see the air reverberating. It dawned on me; throughout its life, every time this bear met men in armor, it had to fight a battle of life and death, and, evidently, had always emerged victorious in the end.

Sieur Henry kept banging the spear on his armor, drawing the beast away from the Comte’s man.

“This way, big bear!”

Utaroque dropped down to all fours, sending out another thumping sound and shaking the ground in the process. It lunged forward and snapped at Sieur Henry, who jumped out of the way surprisingly quickly, but the bear was quick, too. It swiped a massive paw and almost managed to delete Henry’s head. The man was displaying incredible reflex; he ducked just in time and rolled away from the bear.

I was suddenly pushed down hard, which made me almost fall on Marion, who was shouting now, asking what the heck was going on. I raised my head and learned it was Anna who pushed me down to bend me; she wanted her longsword on my back. I felt the long blade sliding out of its sheath on my back, and clenched my buttock as the sword very nearly missed slicing my raised head off in the process.

“Yaaarrrgh!”

Anna was jumping over the fallen tree, screaming.

Now, really. I did not want her to die. Not to a monster bear. I wanted to tell her, ‘Let the Comte and his men deal with it.’ It was all in good intention when I reached out to pull her back in. Honestly, I did not mean any harm. Unfortunately, though, what happened was, in my panic, I grabbed Anna’s left foot. Mid-jump.

She lost her balance, and unceremoniously entered the scene with her face planted flat in the soil. She rolled over and looked at me with a hurt expression. Her eyes were wide, and the dirt-covered face was saying, ‘Dude, what the fuck?’ I winced and shrugged. Sorry.

Seeing another opponent had entered the ring, Utaroque stood up again and roared.

“Archers!” The Comte screamed at the top of his lungs, and immediately the bear was pelted with arrows. Pelted, because the arrows were bouncing off the thick hide. The Comte cussed and jumped up.

“Spears!”

Men were popping out from their hidings, getting ready to swarm the bear. The fact that my Anna was the only archer to score a valid hit reminded me she was a tiny beast of her own. Anna stood up and dusted off, which made me question her priorities. She let out her battle cry once again and charged towards the bear.

“Yaaarrrgh!”

Utaroque was about to stomp down on the fast-approaching girl. Sieur Henry took this opportunity and thrust his spear into the side of the bear’s chest. It went in deep, but abruptly stopped; must have hit the ribcage or something. The shaft broke in half, and the momentum sent the Sieur stumbling forward. Enraged, Utaroque dropped its head and mauled the brave Sieur Knight. Henry, his head and shoulders now in the bear’s enormous mouth, was lifted up and shaken vigorously. Utaroque tried to bite down the man into half, but the metal armor was doing its job, albeit barely. The hair-raising sound of sharp teeth gnawing on metal echoed around the clearing. The archers had stopped shooting in fear of hurting their people who were entering the clearing. And Anna.

Yes, for a brief moment, Utaroque had forgotten about the girl. It was on its two hind legs, head raised high with the top half of Sieur Henry in its mouth. The man was kicking and kneeing the bear’s jaw and neck. Anna swung her sword in a long vertical arc along the beast’s chest and belly. The sword went in deep and smoothly traveled down unopposed, making a long deep gash running straight down on the bear’s underside. Utaroque spat out Sieur Henry and swiped its paw across low. With a ‘Thwack!’ Anna was hit and sent flying off to aside. She flew halfway across the clearing and bounced off a large tree, making loud clanking sounds as her armor plates buckled from the impact.

“Anna!” I was frothing in my mouth. Enraged, I threw my handaxe at the bear. I, of course, completely missed my target. The axe landed between Sieur Henry’s spread legs, who was in the process of sitting up after the ordeal. His upper armor was badly dented, but he seemed to be alright, albeit shaken. Seeing the axe land very near his manhood, his eyes went wide. He took it and jumped up.

“Thank you, my lad,” with that he charged at the bear once more. From the ring of the clearing, led by their knights, the warriors of Armas charged, too, screaming, cussing, with their spears pointing forward.

###

The men improvised a tactic rather quickly. The brave Sieurs with swords, in their hard metal armors, stood in the front row surrounding the bear and got in the way of Utaroque's deadly teeth and took the blunt force of the clawed paws. From behind them, the footmen jabbed and poked with their spears.

Anna whimpered and groaned and rolled over. She stood up and shook her head. I sighed in relief as it seemed she wasn't hurt badly. Nevertheless, there was a very obvious and deep shiny new scratch on her chest plate where Utaroque's claw had scraped. She was still disoriented, and she doubled down, taking a breather, her head raised, and the eyes taking in the scene that was happening in the clearing.

The spearmen had discovered poking and jabbing the bear's balls from the rear was having a considerably distressing effect on Utaroque. The beast went in a circle in backward steps trying to keep its testicles safe. It bared large teeth and growled, occasionally snapping at the men who came too close. Its paws were the main problem; one powerful swing and men were sent off flying.

But the men of Armas were persistent. They kept the pressure on, and Utaroque gave ground and stood on its hind legs with paws raised. A Sieur knight overstepped one single step and was immediately slammed on his helmeted head. He fell flat, unconscious. The men quickly dragged him out of the ring before Utaroque had a chance to stomp on him.

One thing I noticed was; while the bear stood, there was no blood gushing out nor innards spilling out of the long deep gash Anna had made. All that could be seen was a ridiculously deep layer of fat. Yellowish white fat. Utaroque had been fattening himself up for the coming hibernation. All that jabbing and poking and piercing our men did weren't really hurting the beast. How the heck were we supposed to kill this?

Me being a coward, I stood at the edge of the clearing in a safe distance and watched and... cheered for the men. My view was suddenly blocked by Marion getting in my face.

"WHAT IS GOING ON!" She was screaming, unable to hear her own voice drowned by thousand of imaginary trumpets. Hang on... I realized she hadn't actually gone deaf. Her eyes were blinded by the bright light, sure, but her hearing? She could actually hear. Her issue was that the damned trumpets were drowning everything else. I grabbed her head and almost kissed her ear.

"Utaroque!" I shouted into her ear as loud as I could.

"WHAT?"

"UTAROQUE!"

"WHERE?!"

I spun her around, so she faced the clearing. Her shoulders heaved as she took a deep breath.

"Roque! Kuma hairah! Mani mh'ukutah aigah!"

Her voice boomed across the clearing loud and clear. By some strange magic, the sentence lingered in the air, echoing in deep space. It wasn't the language of the Treedwellers. It was something I had never heard, but it carried the definite tone of authority. Commanding enough to make my knees buckle. She turned her head slightly and asked me.

"Has he stopped?"

I looked over her shoulder. Utaroque seemed somewhat subdued, confused even, but it was still snapping jaws and growling menacingly. For a brief moment, it looked just an ordinary bear. A large bear. But the mad beastliness was returning quickly.

"A LITTLE!" I shouted into her ear.

"See, I told you he doesn't listen to me," Marion faced the clearing again and shouted, "This is the only chance! Get him!"

Once again, it was Sieur Henry who acted the first.

"Hya!"

With a loud yell, he jumped on and clung to the bear's side and begun to climb onto the back. Utaroque roared and shook wild, but the Sieur clutched his hands on the fur, clinging on dearly. He wrapped his legs around the thick neck and started to bang the giant skull with my handaxe. The bear jumped around shaking, then it tried to roll, but the spears had closed in and pricked its sides with renewed vigor.

"Yaaaarrrgh!"

Anna rushed in out of nowhere and jumped on the bear. She, too, climbed onto the back and tried to stab with her longsword. That didn't quite work out because the sword was too long. Standing up on the raging bear's back to achieve the required distance was not an option. Anna switched her mode of attack and begun to hack away, which made Utaroque go completely mad in agony.

And then Utaroque stood up, hoping the two would fall off. They didn't. It then stomped down hard on the ground with the forelegs. Sieur Henry was firmly rooted in the back of the neck, but the impact made Anna lose her grip, and she almost fell off. She managed to hold onto a patch of thick fur on the bear's shoulder and hung there, dangling down. Having noted the positive progress, Utaroque stood up again to give it another go. The upward motion provided enough momentum for Anna to fling her tiny body up and sit saddling on the bear's shoulder. There, screaming like a mad girl, Anna thrust her long diamond-like blade into the beasts' ear canal at a slight upward angle. The sword went in deep.

Utaroque froze in its stance. Its eyes went glassy, and the thick black lips that were pulled back baring the teeth went limp. A huge heap of solids was discharged from its bowel, falling onto the ground like a waterfall. The bear was dead.

Unlike Sieur Henry, who jumped off to the side to the cheering men, Anna jumped down to the front. She let go of the sword, jumped, landed, executed a perfect roll, and stood upright. She spun around, and her eyes located me. She beamed me a proud smile as the men nearby screamed and got out of the way.

I watched in horror as gigantic Utaroque fell on my Anna like a dead tree.

"Anna!"

I was desperate, trying to lift the impossibly heavy dead bear. The Comte was shouting to his men, and from both sides, they pulled and pushed and tugged. In the meantime, I was screaming and crying and begging and praying. Generally getting in the way. Sieur Henry wrapped his arm around me and took me away from the bear. He did not say anything but shut his eyes tight and let me bang on his chest with my fists.

It took a considerable effort of everyone to finally roll the Utaroque over to aside. I rushed in, but there was no Anna.

"Oh my god, where is she?" I was panicking. Had she been crushed so hard, to smithereens? I went down on all fours, crawling on the soil in search of... pieces? Bloods? Bone fragments? I was not thinking straight. The men kept their mouths shut and watched me in pity. Some of them were getting emotional, too. She could be really annoying sometimes, but in general, Anna was a likable person to some degree. For the past days, a young and pretty noble girl in armor, totting around with a long sword, was like an oasis to this desert of a band of veteran soldiers. Besides, she didn't talk shit, unlike many other girls they knew. Now she was gone without a trace.

"Shh!"

A man yelled for everyone to quiet down. We shut up and listened. There it was. A muffled moan and gasping for breath. We turned our heads as one and were shocked to see an arm sticking out of Utaroque's belly. It was waving weakly, and the sound was coming from the within. We all rushed to the arm only to find Anna planted vertically along the bear's underside. She was firmly wedged sideways in the slit flesh, the long gash that Anna had caused, buried in the fat layer. It was so ridiculous I burst out laughing like a mad man. The laughter propagated among the men, and we all ended up doubled down, hands on our knees and bellies, laughing our asses off. Anna had been saved by the result of her own earlier reckless swordwork.

###

It wasn’t that difficult to pull her out of there, for she was… well greased. Covered in the semi-hard slurry of white fat and pink blood from her head to toe, she glared at me and threatened to kill me if I laughed again. She was dripping fat all the way back to the Treedweller’s dwelling. At one point on the way, she scraped off a handful of the greasy gunk and threw it in my laughing face.

Men were singing and chatting and laughing. We had severed Utaroque’s head and were carrying it on a makeshift shoulder carriage; it was so heavy six men were committed to carrying it.

At some point on our way back, Marion regained her vision and hearing. She came up to me and walked by my side in silence for a while. After fidgeting for a bit, Marion finally opened her mouth.

“Who was the kind gentle homme, who took care of me while I was blind and deaf?”

“You mean Sieur Henry?” I pointed at him some distance walking ahead of us. He was with other Sieurs, and they were patting on his back and laughing. Henry turned his head to talk to someone, and we, that is Marion and me, could see the side of his face. I carefully glanced sideways and caught Marion’s face, the part not hidden by the blindfold and usually tinted slightly Barkskin yellow, turning a bit reddish-orange.