Chapter 46:

Hunger

Ballad of the Bard


WARNING: this chapter has some loss, and can be heavy for those who are sensitive. Reader caution is advised. That said, there are hopeful tones presented both in this chapter and some later chapters to help offset.


Bard bit into the morsel he had left and looked back at the others who circled around in a group. Some were putting up tents, and some were comforting their children. A gust of wind pulled some tents over and Bard watched as many men ran over to help tie it down. Horses were corralled and many of the villagers muttered sighs of relief.

Sen walked among them, moving about when someone called for her assistance.

What claimed Bard’s attention was not her movements as she came near, but the sounds of coughing. It didn’t come from her. His gaze moved about as he began to search for the source. Unfortunately it grew into a fit of hacking so it was easy to track down. As Bard came near he saw some apologetic glances from those nearby.

He approached an older woman who turned away as she coughed.

“S…sorry,” she managed to say. “I I’ll… keep up,” she said between fits. Bard noticed Elvira come over, and he shifted to the side as she came in with hot water. In the container were some dried herbs that she had boiled. She helped the woman drink it, and her cough subsided a bit as she said her thanks.

As Elvira passed, she paused by Bard.

“I could use some help,” she said. Bard nodded and moved to follow her. He noticed the looks of the villagers and remembered his reservations about this journey.

He walked with her and helped administer medicines to others and Bard saw how worn they were.

“It’s hard to watch, but if we don’t keep moving, then we all will be at risk,” she said softly. Bard looked around at the sick. They mostly were the ones they had treated or had family they had treated before their departure.

“We can’t be havin’ dem slow us down,” Ruegar grumbled as he came over with some fuel for the fire. “But we can’t be leavin’ dem like dis.”

Bard looked at the people and their surroundings. Nightfall would come, and several were hungry. Kai and Sen were still on their hunt and with the presence of the storm clouds to the west, it looked fairly likely they would be encountering more snow. Thankfully he couldn’t see any Storm Shades below.

With a puff into his hands, he rubbed them together and put them near the fire. As a gust of wind picked up again, he hid them in his clothes, trying to shelter them from the cold. This was one of the many things he disliked about winter travel. Some of the more able-bodied men had the tents up and placed the sunstones inside. Their light and the ones that gave off heat would keep them from the elements. Several elderly and young headed inside, while the others kept at work, finishing the camp.

A howl alerted them that Kai was returning. Several people, ones that Bard knew had children, came out and began to gather. As Kai returned, Bard could tell the hunt wasn’t good. There were cries as parents returned back to their tents. This was the third day in a row and their rations were nearly out. If the cold didn’t kill them first, then the lack of food would. Bard rose and walked over to Sen. She looked very downtrodden as she approached him. It wasn’t right that she had to shoulder that responsibility alone, but Kai was the fastest, and she was one of the best shots. If they couldn’t find food, then he doubted any of the villagers on horseback or otherwise would either. Kai looked worse for wear as well. Having to carry so much supplies and then travel to hunt day after day was taking its toll.

“I’m sorry. We found some, but neither Kai nor I could get one down,” Sen apologized as he guided her to the fire.

“Ah, it be alright missy. It be progress and ye did put in yer effort,” Ruegar said, despite the rumbling of his stomach. Bard had Sen focus on warming up. The high speeds made her skin cold, in spite of the bundled clothes she wore.

While Sen moved closer to the fire, Elvira rose and grabbed Bard’s shoulder. He knew that look and quietly followed. They headed to the drags and horses.

“How much more do you think Kai can carry?” Elvira asked.

“Without all the food and water, quite a bit more I imagine, but he is getting worn down from lack of food.”

“As we all are,” Elvira sighed. “I’m debating about moving the supplies onto the animals and clearing the pole-sleds.”

“What for?” Bard asked.

“The sick,” she said plainly. Bard paused and then looked at them. They were about the size you could carry people on, but it would be rough. The ride wouldn’t be pleasant either, but it probably beat walking, and they could potentially go a bit farther and faster than they were.

“It’s not a bad idea.”

“It’s what we’ve got. Besides, you still have your deadlines with the Pledge.”

Bard’s eyes flickered with a bit of surprise. Elvira cuffed him over the head.

“You thought I would forget.”

Bard rubbed at the sore spot. Of course, he thought she would forget.

“It’s not exactly our biggest concern right now,” he rebutted.

“Sure, but if you lose sight of the big picture, then the problems of the day to day will force your hand down a path you don’t want to be headin’,” she said calmly. “You’ll need to remember that as chief.”

Bard sighed.

“You know I’m still not keen about this,” he remarked, and she nodded.

“Course we know, but still. Thanks for doing it. Perhaps… a change is what we need to survive. Instead of all handled by one, then perhaps a few would be better suited,” she muttered as she turned back towards the fires. “Since I have your approval, I’ll have the men move things around tomorrow. For now, let’s get warmed up and ready for the storm.”

Bard followed after her, contemplating her words. He’d experienced how things changed when you only focused on the problems in front of you. Sen was a prime example of that. But he wasn’t sure about the traveling down paths he didn’t like. Then again, Ruegar had certainly set them on a path he hadn’t wanted. He paused and looked to the disappearing stars and shattered moon. Perhaps… he would have come to this conclusion anyhow. After traveling for so long, he still hadn’t found a place to call home, and now he was building one. Perhaps some parts rang true, but not always.

As the day began again, Bard could hear the cries of women and men in the camp. He roused from inside Kai’s fur and looked over as people gathered at some of those tents. It was the sounds of mourning, and Bard bit his lip, knowing that someone had passed away. Sen roused next to him and then sat upright quickly. Her mouth quivered before she jumped out and ran over.

Bard sighed and then began to pack up their things. Kai roused and stretched, and he watched him dig his claws into the ground, the snow partially melted around them. He looked skyward and noticed the clouds were still about, but not over head. Outside of their camp, the snow was over knee-deep. Some snow even clung to the tents and steamed from the heat of the sunstones. It led to an eerie environment along with the wailing of those left behind.

“Can yer beast dig?” Ruegar asked as he came over. Bard finished folding the blankets, removing as much of the water from them as he could. They would freeze stiff today.

“Sure.” Bard answered, looking at the dig marks from Kai’s stretching.

“We be needin’ a place for them, somethin’ that won’t be disturbed.”

Bard looked back at Kai, who cocked his head inquisitively. He looked past Ruegar and saw the somewhat pleading expressions of a few individuals.

“Of course,” he said calmly, a sad frown on his face. He directed Kai over to a spot and had him dig. Kai grumbled, probably from hunger, but he worked on digging. The ground being as frozen as it was hard and took him a while to move. After getting so far, it suddenly gave and Kai removed the clumps. It steamed, still being warmer and moist than the cold air above, though it only lasted a bit. Ruegar came over and had him dig a large hole. Bard was shocked at the size of demand.

“There be quite a few who don’t be making it further. If yer beast can move the dirt, then we want it a bit deeper to keep others from devouring them,” Ruegar commented. Once it was sufficiently deep, they lowered the people in on some of the blankets. However, those blankets were retrieved for the living. Bard gritted his teeth as he looked on. Sen grabbed his hand, claiming his attention.

“Is there nothing you can do as an Elder?” Sen asked in Asternum. Bard contemplated for a bit and moved to his things. He pulled out different containers one by one until he found a metal flute. Perhaps a song to play for the departed. He held it in his hands and felt the biting chill. Knowing it sang its best when warmer, he placed it inside his clothes against his side and a bit back any sounds that would have come from him at the sensation. Once it was sufficiently warm, he returned and looked at the grieving, who were preparing to cover those who had passed on with the dirt. Elvira saw him as he pulled out his flute and had them pause. He knew. He knew they were not used to music. It was banned as it was too similar to the dryads’ magic, but still. It was one of the few comforts he could offer.

As he placed it to his lips, a note pealed out, and he moved his fingers despite their protests. As he played, eyes turned to him and more gathered. Children watched with fascination, while parents seemed torn. Those who had lost loved ones cried, their sounds blending with the melody and other times contrasting it. Sen hummed until she too sang. As the flute became too cold, Bard drew the song to a close and then pulled out his tokens. He moved them about and their notes pealed in the crisp smokey air. When he stopped, he noticed the stares and he closed his eyes.

They likely had their reservations of him being chief after all that. He nearly expected a pelt of snow, some sort of reaction that they disliked it. However, Elvira clamped her hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” she said softly. Kai moved the dirt and after people began to move, they came to him and brushed shoulders with him, thanking him. The few who didn’t, walked away but didn’t show hostility.

Sen grabbed his hand, taking him from his stupor, and they packed up. A meal of the remaining rations was given, and Bard passed some of his portion to Sen while she didn’t look. She would need more when she hunted. The rest he gave to Kai, who lapped it up eagerly. They loaded the animals and placed the sick on the drags before continuing their journey. Kai led the way, shifting the worst of the snow to the side, compacting where he could. It forced him to be slow, but it was still fast. Bard directed him, but otherwise, took the easier path behind. Sen and him kept an eye out for storm shades or anything of the sort, and were relieved when they made it to their next camp. Sen didn’t help unload so she could conserve her energy. When Kai was ready, the two went out to hunt.

That night they returned with a meager gain, but it was a welcome relief. The villagers dried it so they could stew it for more meals, trying to stretch their reserves.