Edgar lay in bed and thumped his fist on the wall behind him. It was early morning and he had woken with big plans, as was his custom. For a few moments after his eyes opened, he spoke his ambitions, as if his mind had conjured them during the night and by saying them aloud Edgar was confirming that he’d heard, and he was progressing. “I’m going to rip this shabby palace down and build another with stone. Not a palace though, more of a fortress. Something that cannot be burnt and taken so easily as we took this place. “My brother Horace is building back in Fertilian with stone bricks. The sentimental fool has called the construction a ‘castle’ after our dear bitch of a mother, Castella. But that’s what I’ll have here, a stone castle. How is mudbrick made anyway?” Tamza was so miserable she could barely bring herself to speak. And she was exhausted, berating herself the entire night in place of sleep. She had failed to kill Edgar, but she had to keep up the act. I must enchant him so deeply that I have an unyielding influence over him. Atone for my cowardice by forcing him to be fair, less cruel, respectful of life. My chances of success are slight, he’s strong-willed, but I have to do something.

She forced a smile onto her lips, and in the voice she used to speak to her nephews with when they were small, explained sweetly, “The mud mixture is put in moulds and left to bake in the sun. Once solid it is strong enough to hold up walls. Specially shaped mudbricks were used for the palace domes, but they burnt in the fire the day you arrived. Out by the crop fields, to the east, are the brick works. Have you not seen them?”

“Aye, that is near where the Xayans are camped. And that is where we go tonight. With the bears. An invite arrived last night, I accepted.”

Here goes, let’s try my influence. “No. I’m not taking my bears into that camp with those… animals.”

Edgar laughed. “The bears are animals, not the Xayans. You want to see your bears, now you can. They’ll dance. I’m the guest of honour at some feast tonight. I’m bringing the entertainment.”

Push harder. “I will dance, not my bears.”

“No, you’re not dancing tonight. They’ll all just want to fuck you. The Xayans are not to be stopped when it comes to women. They have some strange honour codes… The bears dance.”

Failed. Tamza led Rae-bear and Ursah-bear through the town behind Orpey, Burrington and King Edgar. Fert soldiers lined the alleyways, swords ready to turn on the bears if required. The soldiers stopped at the edge of town, by the old brick works. Edgar led the small procession through the endless, redundant rows of brick moulds towards the Xayan camp.

Edgar had told her before they set off, “Do as I say, otherwise we die, bears and all. The Xayans are easily offended. They have invited me here with three companions to test my bravery and strength. They do not frighten me, don’t let them frighten you or the bears.”

Tamza had decided to bring her two strongest bears, in case of any trouble, and the two best dancers, to perform the dance that they had learnt for the Festival of Many Gods. She hadn’t trained them in many weeks, and she prayed to Bear-God that the choreography was still etched in their minds.

Edgar reached the edge of the Xayan camp and paused. It was gigantic, perhaps half the size of Vaasar. And it stank worse than the public latrine in the marketplace. They had set up circular dome tents in rings around one large dome tent, like a pebble dropped in water. Each tent was made from animal hide, and had a pole flying flags of various patterns and sizes. The little homes housed a family. Women tended to animals in pens, children ran around after chickens and men either lazed, brushed their stocky horses or sharpened their swords, some even played with the children. An idyllic scene, in complete contrast to the brutality Tamza had witnessed on the day of the attack. The entrances to the tents all faced the mountains, towards their home, Tamza guessed. She scanned the crowds for a glimpse of Yaseena, but did not see one Vaasarian woman.

A Xayy woman walked up to greet them. Tamza thought she was stunning. Black skin, almond shaped eyes, slim nose and small mouth. Her ears slightly pointed. More feline in appearance than the men. Her hair was braided in thick rows from forehead down to her nape and then as loose plaits that touched the back of her knees. She eyed the two bears, looked steadily into Edgar’s face, and waved at them to follow. The bears lumbered through the well-worn path between tents and sniffed at the warriors, women and children who ran to stare at them.

The woman pulled back the flap of the large, central tent and went in. In the Xayan language, Tamza heard her announcing Edgar. The flap was drawn back and she ushered them in. A small fire burned in the centre, the smoke rising in great plumes through a small hole in the tip of the dome.

Captain Zhaz sat cross-legged on one side, next to him sat twelve warriors. Although none wore the headdresses, and the white paint was gone, all had their weapons strapped to them. Edgar edged in around the fire, Orpey and Burrington followed, then Tamza. The bears waddled in, making it suddenly feel very crowded. Tamza asked them to sit and they both slumped heavily on their rumps, backs arching in a crescent moon shape, hind legs spread out and front paws resting between them. Both grumbled and took in their surroundings.

“Well, King Edgar,” said Captain Zhaz, in the Fert language. “Two men, two women and two bears come to attend my feast. What an honour.”

“Burrington is no woman,” Edgar laughed. “I know he has a pathetic beard, but he’s older than me, would you believe.”

“If that is a man, why have I never seen him fight?” Zhaz replied, looking intently at Burrington.

Burrington’s cheeks flushed and he rapidly tapped the tips of his middle fingers to thumbs. He glanced away from the two men and Tamza caught his eye. She dipped her head slightly, in sympathy at the slight, but he sneered at her and looked down to his fingers.

“He has some skill with throwing daggers,” Edgar said.

“Throwing daggers, eh.” Zhaz raised his eyebrow. “What of the bears?”

“They will perform later, I know you worship your animals,” Edgar said, amused.

Captain Zhaz picked up on it and his face tensed. The two men stared at each other until Zhaz grinned. “There you are wrong. We worship fish, water, anything that lives in water. Water is life.”

Orpey scoffed, “Aye, that’s why you all stink, you don’t wash do you? And you only drink goat’s milk, never water.”

Zhaz’s tone turned icy. “Water is too precious to waste.”

Orpey, as if to antagonise the captain further, pulled up his flask, which was tied by string to his belt, unstopped it and took a swig, allowing water to trickle down his beard. He licked his lips, wiped his face with the back of his hand and flicked droplets into the fire.

Zhaz scowled. “Careful. I invited you here and you are guests, and no guest will befall any harm under Xayan custom. But insult me or my people again and you will regret it.”

Edgar put a warning hand on Orpey’s forearm and turned back to Zhaz. “What’s for dinner, man, you told me this was a feast.”

Zhaz jutted his chin to the woman who had collected them and she left the tent, returning moments later with six more women and a gaggle of children, ranging in age from newborns up to teens. They all looked at the bears, fascinated.

“First, I introduce you to my family. These are my wives and my official children.”

Edgar and Burrington gave a curt nod at the women. Orpey graced them with a brief look and turned back to the fire.

Tamza stared, thankful the scarf hid her gaping mouth. Six wives! These are Zhaz’s official children and there are perhaps fifteen here. How many unofficial children does he have?

Zhaz waved his hand and his family dispersed. Six cooked goats were brought in by the wives. Charred and crispy from roasting on a spit. The smell made Ursah-bear drool. These were placed around the fire, within reach of all who sat there.

Zhaz pointed to the meat in front of Edgar. “We eat together.”

“Goat?” Edgar asked, amused, clearly used to this custom.

Zhaz grunted. At the same time, they reached for the nearest goat, pulled off a hunk of meat with their hands and shoved it in their mouths.

Edgar chewed happily and with a mouthful said, “Delicious. I declare this the best meat I have ever tasted!”

The Xayan men cheered and dug into the meat nearest them. Zhaz clapped Edgar on the back. Orpey and Burrington reached forwards and started to rip off hunks of meat. Tamza didn’t move. One of Zhaz’s wives came in and knelt next to her, pulling off strips of meat and jabbing them at Tamza’s face.

Aware of this wife’s growing frustration, Tamza gingerly pulled down her headscarf to expose her mouth. The wife fed her the meat, delicately. Tamza chewed and smiled at her. She beamed back. Perhaps this was the cook. Fearlessly, the wife took a hunk of meat and held it in front of Rae-bear. His nose crinkled, and his great mouth opened wide, showing his sharp teeth.

All the men stopped eating and talking to watch.

“Be gentle,” Tamza said, tongue clicking in the bear’s language.

Rae allowed the woman to drop the meat into his cavernous maw and he munched greedily. The wife did the same for Ursah and grinned, satisfied. The Xayan woman patted Rae’s leg and he lurched at her, snarling.

Tamza grabbed the wife’s hand and pushed it off the bear, putting her hand on Rae-bear’s snout. In the clipped Xayan language Tamza said, “Bears no pet.” Her father had long ago told her, you do not gain an animal’s respect from fussing the thing. You are their master, you are not their mother.

Unfazed, the wife patted Tamza’s knee instead and left the tent.

Leather pouches filled with goat’s milk were passed around. Orpey complained loudly that he would’ve preferred some wine, the red drink the Ferts had brought with them.

Edgar and Zhaz talked and laughed, regularly slapping each other’s back. Burrington watched silently, with what Tamza noticed was a hint of jealousy. Orpey ate what remained of the goat in front of him, snapping bones and sucking off the meat and juice.

“Let us see these bears,” Zhaz announced and stood.

“It is time, my bears. Will you dance?” Tamza asked Rae and Ursah.

Both bears clacked their jaws. Tamza stood and edged past, holding the flap open for them. She led them to a clear area of grass a few paces away. The men piled out of the tent and stood in front of the bears. Xayan warriors, their women and children gathered in a circle.

“Give them space!” shouted Tamza as the Xayans started to encroach. The presence of her bears, after so long apart, had galvanised her confidence. For a bear to respect you, Sumear used to say, you must respect yourself.

Rae-bear stood on his hind legs and roared, Ursah paced in a loop, pushing out the front row and came to stand next to Rae. The two majestic brown bears were a sight to behold.

Tamza positioned herself in front of them. She whistled and the bears swayed gently, in time, in unison, from side to side. They wiggled their body, up and down as if scratching their backs against the bark of a tree trunk. Tamza stomped her foot and the bears flipped onto their front legs, kicking their back legs up so they stood on their forelegs. The audience gasped, cheered and clapped.

She clicked her fingers and the bears walked forward two paces on their front paws and then back two paces. Stomped her foot and they dropped their legs to all fours. Clicked her fingers and the bears stood on hindlegs and started bouncing in time, waving their forelegs, clapping their paws and weaving around one another. They were in perfect time.

Tamza started to dance with them, and they followed her lead. She somersaulted. Both bears copied her movement. She spun on one leg, they did the same. Ursah-bear roared, she was enjoying herself. The crowd edged backwards at the sound.

At a click of Tamza’s fingers, the bears dropped onto their backs, stuck their legs in the air and rolled from side to side. The audience laughed. They flipped onto all fours and Tamza walked towards them and turned. She put a foot in Ursah’s paw, and a foot in Rae’s paw, and the bears gradually lifted her up in the air as they both stood to full height and pushed their paws above their heads.

Tamza focused intently on her balance. This was a new move learnt for the Festival of Many Gods performance and they hadn’t practised it. “Keep steady,” Tamza told them. “Rae-bear, do not raise my foot higher than Ursah. That’s it.”

The bears held her steady, she gazed up to the sky and took a deep breath. I feel free. Looking down on the camp, her elation was short lived. Thousands of faces looked up at her. My audience of Xayan murderers, who should not be here, should not be in my town. Tamza’s concentration ruptured and she lost her balance.

Rae-bear broke her fall, his forelegs out wide to catch her. He rolled her onto the ground and she stood and bowed, as if this was part of the show.

“The end, my bears, well done.” Tamza clicked her tongue.

Both bears, confused by her fall, sat. Catching their breath.

The audience applauded, whooped, stomped their feet.

Zhaz stepped past Tamza to stand in front of Rae-bear. “Make him lift me up.”

Tamza did not reply. Rae eyed Zhaz. The bear’s bottom lip quivered, his nose wrinkled and he emitted a low, warning growl.

“Tamza, make the bear lift Zhaz,” Edgar said.

Tamza shook her head. “Neither will do it. They have finished their performance and now need to go back to their enclosure to be fed and given water in thanks. Otherwise things could turn nasty.”

Edgar considered her a moment. To her surprise, he agreed. “Show is over, Zhaz. The bears only lift the woman.”

Zhaz turned, his knife drawn and at Tamza’s throat in a heartbeat. Edgar went for his sword, pulling it half way out the scabbard, but Zhaz shook his head. “Make the bear lift me, or lose your bitch.”

Tamza’s eyes widened as Rae-bear rose behind Zhaz, to full height, bringing his paws around the warrior’s head, so the long, sharp claws enclosed the warrior’s face. Zhaz’s posture changed, his eyes flicked down to the claws. Rae-bear brought his snarling mouth over the warrior captain’s head and roared.

The force made the Captain’s tunic ruffle. Specks of spittle flew from Rae’s vast maw and smacked Zhaz’s bald head like hail. Zhaz’s entire body tensed.

Tamza knew Rae would rip this man’s head off. None of the Xayan warriors moved a muscle or went for a weapon. Perhaps it is not done to save a captain from a fight? Zhaz must’ve known he was close to death as he lowered his knife from Tamza’s neck and said, “I yield to a stronger opponent.”

Rae-bear dropped down to all fours behind Zhaz, ramming the man’s back with his shoulder before turning away and stalking back towards the town, and the enclosure. The crowd parted to let him through. Ursah-bear followed. Tamza tailed them, not waiting for permission. Her heart pounded from Zhaz’s blade so close to her throat and the exhilaration that she had influenced King Edgar.

She glanced over her shoulder to see Edgar clapping Zhaz on the back. “Well, quite a show, Captain. Thanks for the feast, we’ll be on our way.”

Zhaz slapped Edgar in return and laughed.