NYR Page 17

I looked at Running Bear for some sort of assurance that he knew which path to follow. Surely we would take up the trail taken by Spring Salmon?

But Running Bear was walking back and forth, his head in his hands, muttering to himself. It was quickly apparent to me that he did not know which trail to take, nor did he appear to be able to make a decision.

I looked at the ground but as usual, it held no answers. I looked to the skies and there I found the answer I sought for there soared my eagle.

The eagle circled lazily above, enjoying the wind currents high above. Yet each time I had seen him, he had given me guidance when I needed it. Perhaps he would do so once more.

I gazed at him as he circled high above, wondering what his purpose was. Slowly the circles became tighter and lower until at last it became obvious he was looking for something. Finally he flew off, taking a path somewhat more northward than we had been traveling.

I grabbed Running Bear and pointed to the disappearing eagle. He looked at me curiously, unsure of my meaning. I searched my memory for the proper word, one Wise Owl had used for the eagle. Finally it came to me and I used the word for totem.

Running Bear’s eyes lit with hope and a smile crossed his face for the first time since the attack. He nodded once and, without hesitation, resumed his furlong-eating stride in the direction the eagle had traveled.

I marveled at his lack of doubt that this was the correct path. Prior to my arrival in the village I would not have followed some random animal yet now it seemed like the proper path. I hurried to catch up with Running Bear. Our decision was made, this would be the group we pursued.

NYR Page 16

Morning came early and once more the chase was on. Running Bear still carried himself with a casual ease that I envied. I wanted to pause to rest but he showed no signs of slowing down. From time to time he produced more of the jerky and shared the canteen with me.

Finally, some time after noon he paused. He gestured towards the ground and held up his hands, showing four fingers on each and pointed off in one direction. Then he flashed all his fingers and pointed a second direction and then a third time he flashed all his fingers and pointed yet another direction.

I looked in each direction to see what he referred to but the country held nothing but mysteries to me. I looked back at him and shrugged. He again ran through the sequence but I could not determine what he was trying to tell me.

He sat down on the trail and put his head in his hands. Thankful for the respite, I sank to the ground as well, happy to rest my weary legs. We sat there for several minutes in silence and then he abruptly rose and walked over to pick up a nearby stick.

He brought it back and began drawing in the dirt. Intrigued, I stood to look at what he was doing. First he drew several things that bore a passable resemblance to the longhouses, then he drew several stick figures with spears and bows. He looked up at me inquisitively.

I nodded to indicate I knew he meant the village and gestured for him to continue. He drew a large group of people some distance from the village and then drew two people some distance behind them. He gestured towards those two, then at us. I gathered he referenced our pursuit.

He then gestured to the large group of figures again and drew three new groups of figures, then pointed around him, flashing the signs again. This time I understood. The people we were pursuing had split up.

NYR page 15

Morning came early. Running Bear seemed a bit more reluctant to go. When it occurred to me I would be traveling with someone with whom I could not communicate, I became less excited as well. But the journey was necessary.

The more thinking I had done in the night, the more convinced I was of this. Yet I could not simply adopt their ways. My own were too deeply ingrained in me. 

As we left the village, I noticed Running Bear was carrying a large pack. I was a bit embarrassed to be carrying nothing but my rapier. I tried to offer to help but he would have none of it. He led the way, taking off at an easy lope that would certainly eat the furlongs in a hurry yet leave us plenty of energy.

I followed his lead, my own loose stride keeping me alongside him. I noted he did not look back as we left the village. I started to but just as I was turning my head, I caught a flash of movement overhead. Looking up I saw my eagle soaring along overhead, wings outstretched in the morning breeze.

We ran in companionable silence for several hours. A few times I started to say something to Running Bear before remembering he could not comprehend my words. Idly  wondered when he planned to stop for lunch.

Soon it was clear he had no such plans. Wordlessly he passed me some jerky as we ran. Slowly, methodically his jaws worked at the tough, stringy meat and from time to time he took a drink from a water-filled bladder he was using as a sort of canteen. But never did his pace slacken.

Soon I came to realize how well he ran. My legs were aching and my lungs feeling as if they might explode, yet he showed no signs of slowing, nor of being even remotely tired.

Furlong after furlong fell behind us. Several times we came to forks in the path, yet Running Bear barely seemed to glance at them. Each time he unhesitatingly selected a direction and continued running. His feet tattooed a steady rhythm on the paths.

Finally as the sun was beginning to set he relaxed his pace and began looking around. I could not fathom what he might be looking for. Soon, however, he spotted whatever it was and we turned aside from the path.

Just off the main trail I suddenly became aware of the babble of a small creek. Somehow he knew it was there and had selected to turn aside from the trail at this location. Almost instantly we came upon a small clearing on the edge of a creek.

He made gestures which I understood to mean he wished to make camp. I gathered together a few tree limbs which had fallen to the forest floor for firewood. By the time I had done so, he had fashioned a crude yet effective shelter.

Soon we had a small fire going. I was wondering what we might eat when he formed a crude spit out of branches. I looked on curiously, well aware we had brought no pots or pans in which to cook. This did not slow Running Bear, however.

He gathered together a few pieces of bark and soon had fashioned a crude pot out of them. I was careful not to laugh at his efforts, but it seemed ridiculous. The bark would burn through long before anything could adequately cook.

Once more I was shown how wrong my assumptions could be as he filled the pot halfway with water and put in some meat. Soon the sweet aroma of fresh cooking filled the little glade we were in.

While we waited, I decided to try to learn some of his language. I pointed to him and used the words I had heard repeated which I thought meant Running Bear, then pointed to myself and repeated the words Wise Owl had used in naming me Man Full of Anger.

He did not seem to understand at first so I repeated the process. Slowly a smile grew on his face. He pointed to himself, saying his name, then to me.

I nodded and pointed to the fire. He said the word and I repeated it. Soon he was showing me the names of trees, bushes, leaves, and other things. 

I was now in my element, learning another language and how to interact. And more than that, I felt like I was making a friend.

NYR page 14

(you can search tags for "New Years Resolution" to see the first 13 pages...I am FINALLY getting back to this)

Grimly I pondered his words. "Do what I must". How could I determine that? Everything was turned on its head in this new world I found myself in. Here, to pursue enemies was to bring death on those you loved. To not follow meant the loss of all who were captured. 

Were I home I would gather a large expedition to punish the attackers for their temerity in striking at my home. The vengeance we would inflict would be terrible indeed and it would be many, many years before they had the numbers to attack again, much less the desire. Yet here it seemed the loss of their children and wives was acceptable and almost expected.

I sighed deeply. Things used to be so simple. Give the Ogres a few bits of meat every year and they would do their raiding elsewhere. Threaten the goblins with annihilation if they did not behave. Trade off things the Orcs needed and they would leave us in peace. Those were the arenas I was prepared to deal with. 

That was where I was comfortable. I knew what to do and how to do it. Here I was more useless than a child an, in fact, more dangerous to those around me than to my enemies.

So lost in thought was I that it was when his hand dropped on my shoulder that I noticed Running Bear. Alongside him was Wise Owl.

Wise Owl's sad eyes caught mine. "Running Bear has asked me to translate."

I waited for him to continue but that was apparently everything he was going to say. The silence grew awkward before Running Bear began to speak. Words poured forth with him as he began walking back and forth as he spoke. He was  very animated speaker and his words were accompanied by a great number of gestures. Finally his words dried up and he turned to me expectantly.

I looked to Wise Owl. "What did he say?"

"You are always in a hurry, Man Full of Anger. Please allow me time to compose myself before I speak too hastily and speak words he would not have me speak."

Impatiently I stood back, crossing my arms. This language barrier was something I must learn to overcome. I would need to work hard, but I knew if I began paying attention to the things going on around me rather than relying on Wise Owl all the time I would soon have a grasp of at least the basics of their language.

As I thought these things, Wise Owl found the words he sought.

"Running Bear says you bring us new ideas. At first he was excited at the thought of pursuing those who took his sister and son. However, when he found Green Leaf lying dead on the trail, he was angry with you.

"He has thought much about it however and knows you are not to blame. It was his pursuit which was too close and caused the enemy to slay the child. He grieves as if Green Leaf were his own. Yet he sees value to the new ways. He wishes to learn more of them."

Wise Owl paused and as was his way, allowed the silence to become uncomfortable before continuing.

"He wishes to take up the pursuit again tomorrow morning. It is his desire that you would accompany him and, if possible, rescue those who were taken captive."

He stopped speaking and both he and Running Bear looked at me.

My natural inclination was to accept immediately. Yet the words of Wise owl regarding how I would change this people kept coming back to me. Was this what he was talking about? Would I destroy the innocence of these people?

Yet his other words also came to mind. "Do what you must."

"Yes, Running Bear. Tomorrow morning we shall take us the chase." With those words my path was chosen.

NYR Page 13

I slowed my run as I approached Running Bear. He was on his knees in the center of the trail, tears flowing freely from his eyes. Ahead of him on the trail I could see a body. Instantly I feared the worst, that is was his sister Spring Salmon. 

Forgetting he could not understand my language, I tried to console him. "Running Bear, I grieve for you."

He did not seem to hear my words, but when he felt my hand on his shoulder he looked up at me with tear-stained eyes. He gestured ahead at the body. I looked at the location indicated, knowing I would see Spring Salmon.

To me surprise, it was not her but rather a young boy of perhaps two or three years of age. There could be no question he was dead. Blood had dried in his hair and his head lay at an awkward angle. His legs also bent awkwardly. 

Rage filled me that so much cruelty could have been inflicted on a helpless child. "Your brother?" I asked.

He responded with some words I could not understand and then rose to his feet. Tenderly he gathered the body in his arms and turned back towards the village. I hesitated. Should I continue the pursuit or return with him?

I pondered my options. It went ill with me to give up on the chase, yet Running Bear was doing so. Without him to track I would no doubt lose the trail if they left it. It seemed my options were quite limited.

I hurried after Running Bear, catching up to him quite quickly as he was moving at a shambling face. I tried to take the body from him but he shoved away my proffered arms and continued carrying the child.

 

We passed the remainder of the journey in silence. It took much longer to return than it had to get this far as we were weighed down by the body and, in Running Bear's case, by grief. Seldom had I seen someone so affected by the passing of a loved one.

Wise Owl  saw us coming and ventured forth from the village to meet us. He made no attempt to relieve Running Bear of his burden but simply turned and began walking silently alongside us. That silence was not to last as soon word of our return spread rapidly. 

Soon an veritable barrage of tears was being shed as many of the women began wailing. 

It was hard for me to see such grief. Perhaps I was inured to death, for I had seen much of it, including many children. Life was difficult and death to be expected. These people were on the verge of losing all sanity in their noisome grieving.

"You do not approve of our mourning." came a soft voice in my ear. It was a statement, not a question.

I turned to reply to Wise Owl. 

"Certainly the death of a young one is a time for grief. I would not criticize people for so doing."

"You believe it is excessive then."

I tried to hide my frustration. How did he know my thoughts so well? He could not know me so intimately, much less be able to gauge how I was reacting to situations with such a degree of accuracy. It seemed I could have no private thoughts around this man.

"Wise Owl, earlier we talked of having different ways. I would not change the ways of you or your people. I wish to learn more of them, to understand your people, your customs, and your thought processes."

He gestured behind him towards where Running Bear was carrying the child into one of the longhouses. "The death of the child is one result of the customs of the peoples of the plains. When they saw themselves being pursued, they slew one of their prisoners, hoping to distract those who were following them."

We stopped walking and stood in silence as the implications hit me. It was my dogged unwillingness to allow them time to escape that had brought this tragedy upon them. 

Yet had I not been willing to pursue, the child would still have been gone. I looked at Wise Owl in confusion. "What would you have had me do?"

"What you did. Each of us has things they must do in order to retain their identity. You are a man who acts rashly and emotionally. For you to do otherwise would change you. I would not have that, for it is perhaps not your fate to change. Our actions are our own, and each person must choose their own path."

"But I did not know following my own path would lead to this, Wise Owl. Why did you not tell me?"

"Would you have believed me?"

I turned inward, considering. "I do not know. Wise Owl, I am sorry. Would that I have made different choices. Would that I knew what to do." I looked him in the eye, pleading. "What would you have me do next?"

Wise Owl looked more grim than I had seen him look. "You should do what you must."

NYR Page 12

The eagle flew off but I knew he had not deserted me. I knew I was further down the right path and, my energy renewed, I resumed my run after Running Bear.

Yet now my mindset was far different. Perhaps I would catch up to Running Bear before he caught up to the invaders, perhaps not. Perhaps we would be successful in rescuing the villagers, perhaps not. Perhaps we would even die in the attempt.

It did not matter. These things were beyond my control. I had a job to perform. It may be successful, it might not. But performing my role in it was what was demanded of me. 

As I ran I wondered what the eagle had seen in me. Had he judged me, for good or ill? Did I meet with his approval?

I doubted my actions in speaking with Wise Owl would meet his approval. I had dismissed out of hand the words of the old man simply because they were indicative of a different consciousness than my own.

Wise Owl spoke of the traditions of his people with reverence. I never considered the traditions of my own people. What we did was simply the way things were. Wise Owl considered the impact of his own actions on other people whereas we considered only ourselves.

Yet were we wrong to do so? Living the way we had allowed the small Lahana nation to not merely survive but prosper in a hostile world. We were surrounded by enemies on all sides. The Ogres had long desired to invade and take our lands for their own. The orcs had made their attempts as well.

It was only through rigid adherence to our ways that we had kept our nation strong. We were indeed a rigid and violent people, always ready to fight if that was what was needed. 

Yet there were moments of beauty as well. I thought back to the concert where I had first become betrothed. 

As was the custom, we wore powdered wigs, tight breeches, and silk cravats. We arrived in carriages carefully selected to show our wealth and powder. Mine, of course, was among the finest as befit one of the oldest families in all of Lahana, a family of counselors to the king, a family of Dukes and Barons. 

I was proud of the matched set of greys that pulled it. As the others arrived, I waited. It would not do to be among the first to arrive. Rank was important not only to have but to show. The higher rank we had, the later we took our seats in the great concert hall so that those seated before could bask in our magnificence as we arrived.

Yet it was not just for show. Concerts provided an opportunity to mingle, to make alliances with other families and sometimes to seal those arrangements through marriage.

My father had long sought to join together with the Tolaradane family. Together, we could stand against even the king should the need arise. We would be the most powerful alliance in the land.

On this night the opportunity presented itself. The Tolaradane family had just been blessed with another child. This time it was a daughter. As was normal in Lahanish circles, rumors swirled over the parentage of the child but Jahquile Tolaradane had legitimized her, claiming his wife was ever faithful, a claim that led to much mirth among the more knowledgeable.

Regardless, the birth of Maricia gave my father the opportunity he was looking for. By the intermission, I had been betrothed to her, cementing an alliance that would last as long as we lived. It did not matter to Jahquile, my father or myself that I was more than three decades older than she or what thoughts we had on the matter. It only mattered that this was what our parents saw as their path to yet greater power.

Idly I wondered how Wise Owl would reconcile that commitment with the one he said I had made to Spring Salmon. Of course, that would not matter if I could not find her.

Just as that thought occurred to me, ahead I saw what looked to be Running Bear. It was true, the eagle had guided me to the right path.

NYR page 11

I did not hesitate but began running down the path to the right. The eagle looked at me disinterestedly as I ran past. I could not afford doubt, however. I had lost too much time. Somewhere ahead of me Running Bear might already be fighting for his life.

My feet pounded the path as I ran at a frenetic pace that reeked of desperation. Indeed, there was desperation in my heart. Ever since the storm that resulted in my being cast up on the shores of this far-away land,  I had been lost in a world I was unfamiliar with. 

Here I was just another person, not the guiding force in the lives of the peasants. Gone were the familiar routines, the vicious yet understandable ways of the political infighting, the steady, normal routines of treaty-making. In their place was raw, earthy living.

There were none of the niceties of society here. There were no formal dinners with well-dressed and coiffed people mingling together, speaking in hushed tones. There were no balls with music and dancing, no carriage rides in the crisp autumn air.

For the first time in my life things were not under my control. Things were occurring which were beyond my comprehension. It did leave me a little desperate to regain the control I had lost. At least in battle I was comfortable. There was comfort in the thrust of a rapier, the slash designed to injure the opponent, the kill or be killed action.

I ran until my breath was ragged, my sides heaving with exertion and my body covered with sweat but Running Bear had too large a head start on me if this was indeed the path he had taken. 

I finally had to halt, bending over, hands on hips, struggling to regain the ability to breathe. Suddenly the ludicrous nature of the situation hit me. I was running blindly down a path made by some unknown creature or people, heading somewhere I knew not where, and the path I had chosen was chosen not by dint of my own knowledge or that of a trusted guide, but rather by trusting that an eagle had landed on the path I was to take. 

I began laughing. It was a loud, hysterical uproarious laugh, the likes of which had never escaped my lips before. Laughter was not part of my life, yet this situation was so out of control that I could not help it.

I forgot everything for a moment. I forgot my need to return to Lahana. I forgot the need to rescue Spring Salmon. I forgot the need to catch up to Running Bear. I forgot the need to consider the words of Wise Owl and simply let the laughter flow. 

It flowed until my belly shook and tears ran out of my eyes. It seemed it would never cease as I laughed beyond what I thought my capacity to laugh could have ever been.

Finally the last few chortles faded away and my vision cleared. I looked up and to my surprise saw the eagle.

Once more we locked gazes and once more he peered into my soul. This time I looked back, unafraid. 

My gaze was drawn into his presence. Fire exploded in my head as I circled deep, deep within his consciousness. My thoughts became his, my comprehensions widened. 

I felt the glorious freedom of flight, of soaring high above the earth below, of seeing the pageantry of the patchwork lands below me. Here I saw a squirrel run through the branches of a mighty oak tree, chittering angrily at the birds landing near its hidden stash of nuts. There I saw a mouse, ever wary of my presence high above, begin a terrifying dash across the fields.

I felt my mighty warrior's heart roar to life as my prey ran and I knew he was mine to take. I felt the power as the mighty wings beat together, driving me earthward at a fantastic pace. I felt the rush of the wind past my face, the body of the mouse pinwheel as my stout claws crushed its ribs. 

I watched in regal calmness as lesser birds fought for my leftovers, as numerous beasts below lived, fought, mated, died, and were born.

I knew the the thrill of flight and the hunt, the pure joy of being alive and being powerful. 

Yet I also saw the little dramas unfold below that would seem tragic tom some. That mouse  had been the only provider for his family which would now likely perish because of my actions. He had done nothing wrong, he had simply been part of the cycle of life. 

All of us were involved. The mouse was no more important than I, the lordly eagle. Yet it was no less important, either Had there been no mouse for the eagle to eat then the eagle would have itself died yet at the same time, if the population of the mice was not kept down they could overrun the fields and steal food from other animals. 

Suddenly the eagle turned his gaze and I was ripped unceremoniously from his consciousness. I returned to my own mind, and I was changed forever.

NYR Page 10

I watched him circle lazily as he descended. I was impatient to see him take one of the paths, to guide me in my attempt to rescue people I had seen only once or twice each. The eagle, however, was in no hurry. It allowed the wind currents to carry it first one way, then another as it lazily drifted earthward. 

After what seemed like hours but could only have been a few minutes, he idly settled to the ground in front of me. My every impulse was to scream at him, to imperiously order him to show me the way, yet somehow, intuitively, I knew that would be the wrong move. I needed to wait. I watched him, anxious for any sign.

He was still in no hurry. He began preening himself. 

I waited, shifting my wait anxiously from foot to foot. My mind was whirling, trying to ascertain what I should do in this situation. Should I speak to him? Kneel and worship him? What did he want from me?

As this thought occurred, he looked up, his gaze meeting mine. It was the most piercing gaze I had ever experienced. It was as if he looked into the very depths of my soul, assessing my motives, assessing me. 

I wondered what he saw. It was not the outward appearance that mattered, this much I knew. This eagle was somehow spiritual and connected to me. I do not know if we were connected by his choice or by some mysterious vagary of fate.  I simply knew we were connected, our fates bound together and he wanted to know who his soul-partner was.

I looked at myself and my actions. I knew who I was. I was a man of honor, true to his word and bond. I worked to keep my country sovereign, my people safe, and to serve my king. Surely these were admirable traits? I knew they were the traits valued in the courts oh LaHana. 

Yet...yet I was not in Lahana. I was in an undiscovered land of mystery, a land where the natural order was reversed. Here there seemed to be no hierarchy, no nobility, but rather a certain egalitarianism. The words of each villager were taken into account.

I thought back to the council. In Lahana there would be no thought of sharing a pipe with the peasants. There would be no though of sharing a council with them in the first place. A few of the nobles would gather together and make the decision, then send out criers to reveal the result to the peasants. 

It was not something I appreciated, the inclusion of everyone. What could a young stripling such as Running Bear contribute?

Yet it suddenly occurred to me that this was not the opinion of Wise Owl. Wind Runner, the young man who had died in battle, this had been a great loss to Wise Owl not for his strong back but for his knowledge of traveling in the mountains.

He grieved the potential loss of Running Bear for the same reason. Yet Running Bear was not even 20. No Lahanish person of some youth would be granted any responsibility. They were to be seen and not heard. Why would he value the opinions and contributions of children?

Yet Running Bear was no child. He had a knowledge about him. He knew how to gather the salmon that were a great portion of the village livelihood. He was a mighty hunter of bear. He was a valued member of the community.

Could youth be valued? Could they have some contribution even before achieving their manhood at thirty?

I swear the eagle nodded as this thought occurred to me. As he did so, I noticed he was not, in fact, sitting in the fork in the road. The shift in weight I had made showed he was actually seated to the right. He was on the right path. The only question remaining was whether I was on the right path.

New Years Resolution Page 9

I ran towards the path I had seen them take in their advance on the village. My feet pounded the path as my heart pounded its beat of rage.

Though I barely knew these people, the attack on their village filled me with anger. Even more, the casual acceptance of Wise Owl of the taking of his people bothered me deep in my soul.

Sometimes the nobles and rulers of Lahana had been accused of being self-serving but that was only true of some. I almost missed a step as I realized what I had just internally verbalized. Never before would i have admitted that some of the leaders of the people were, in fact, selfish.

Many of us, however, looked first to the good of those under us, even though the people did not always understand what was good for them. I knew what was good for them. I could see how things would develop and took care to develop the people for the future.

I also worked very hard to ensure the people under my care were safe and protected. Though the people of this village were not under my care, I would not fail in the charge of protecting them.

My eyes cast ahead and saw a fork in the path. I came to a halt, unsure of which path to take. How far ahead had Running bear gotten?Which path had he taken? Which path had the invaders taken? I could not afford to be wrong.

I looked at the ground as I had seen them do and found it mystifying.  I knew that even many of the kids could have read the story on the ground but I had no skill of tracking nor any idea of where or how to start.

I looked to the heavens above as if I would find an answer there. To my surprise, I did. It was my eagle soaring high above.

I hesitated for but a moment before crying out at the top of my lungs.

"Mighty eagle, which path should I follow? Where has Running Bear gone? Give me a sign!"

I waited. I watched. And then the eagle began to descend.

New Year's Resolution Book Page 8

I stared at him. "What do you mean, gone?"

It was Wise Owl who replied. "It is the way of some people. Perhaps they lost children in the winter to the harsh weather. Perhaps they lost people in raids or battles. Many of the people of the plains replenish their numbers by raiding. They steal women and children to replace those lost. I do not know this is what happened but I suspect it to be so."

They stood in silence for a few moments. Running Bear looked so grief stricken I wa moved to act. "How many were in the main party?"

Prompted by my question, he quickly replied, "Perhaps 15 or 20."

"Too many for just the too of us. But we must try. Let us pursue them with all haste and perhaps we can catch them before they get too far.  Who else can we take?"

"Nobody will join you," interjected Wise Owl. "It is not our way."

"I don't understand. They took Running Bears sister and many other loved ones! Do you not wish to rescue them?"

"There will be much grief at their passing fom our circle, yet tha is how it must be. We are not strong enough to pursue them. Even should we overtake them and recover our loved ones in battle, much harm would befall us. Many strong men would fall, men we are not able to replace. No, Man Full of Anger, I will not allow you to bring this devastation on us."

"I will go," said Running Bear. Without waiting to hear Wise Owl's reaction he turned and made his way towards the path the raiders had approached on. 

I started to follow but was stopped by the hand of Wise Owl falling upon my shoulder. "I ask of you not to do this. Already you are changing the ways of the young ones. You will bring destruction upon us. Should Running Bear die in this pursuit, his loss will be felt for many years.  It will be even worse should your pursuit be successful, however."

I looked at him in stunned amazement. "How could it be worse to actually rescue those taken?"

His face bore a sadness such as I had never seen. "Life is difficult, Man Full of Anger. One must learn to deal with loss. Yet you would have my people refuse to accept loss. You dispense death without giving it a second thought yet do not return to the circle of those you slew the opportunity to make good their loss. You will upset the balance."

I shook my head in disgust. "You speak glibly of loss, old man, but it ws not you who lost a wife or sister." I snorted derisively. " In a sense, I myself lost more than you. Just a few hours ago you were telling me it was my duty to accept your customs and take her as my wife. Now you tell me she is gone, let her go. I cannot do that. I will not do that. To do so would be an insult to my friend Running Bear."

"To do less is to insult the entire community."

His reply fell on deaf ears. I spun on my heel and began running after Running Bear. He said words which I ignored, pretending not to hear, but they burned deep into my skull and would haunt me for many days. As I ran, I heard him whisper, "You are wrong, Man Full of Anger. I lost more than anyone for I have lost my son."

New Year's Resolution Day 7

I stood in silence looking around at the carnage. A quick glance showed that most of the dead were from the invading force. A closer glance showed most of them had fallen to my rapier. I had accounted for fully seven of the casualties.

 
Fortunately neither Running Bear nor Wise Owl, the only two of these people whose names I knew, were among the fallen from the three of our own who lay still in the crisp evening air. As I gazed at the bodies my mind was overly active.

I had not hesitated to risk my life on behalf of these people whom I had known for only three days. This went against every principle I had long held dear.  As a nobleman of Lahana, it was my responsibility to endanger myself only on behalf of Lahana. We did not have men to spare fighting other people's battles.

Yet here I had, without second thought, thrown myself heedlessly into battle. Worse yet, it was a type of battle I was unprepared for. Though I had not thought about it at the time, looking back I know how shocked I had been to see all my support disappear. 

This was not a war of units of highly trained men facing each other, but a slap-dash hack and slash, a veritable maelstrom that had a unique rhythm far different than the one I was used to. 

As I considered these things, I became aware of Wise Owl standing at my elbow. I had not heard his approach, but I was growing used to that. I seldom heard any of these people except when they wished to be heard. Well, that and their kids who seemed always to be making some great racket.

"I do not wish to intrude on your reverie," said Wise Owl, "yet I think we must speak."

I glanced at him and nodded acquiescence.

He gestured at the bodies. "This is what I referred to, Man Full of Anger. I fear you will change us for the worse."

I looked at the battlefield in confusion. Our casualties were few and the attack had been repulsed with relative ease. "I do not understand, Wise Owl. What did I do wrong?"

Wise Owl gestured around the village. "Our numbers are few. We can ill afford the loss of even one warrior. As a result, our methods of warfare have been carefully cultivated to avoid such results."

He paused and looked sadly around. He gestured towards the nearest body from the village. "This was Antelope Slayer. He was but 17 summers of age. His father dies when he was but 3, leaving just Antelope Slayer  to provide for his mother and younger sister. Who now will care for them?"

He gestured towards the next one in the line. "That is Wind Runner. He carried great knowledge of how to travel the paths of the mountains, knowledge that is lost to us for many years now until another traveler returns to instruct us in the ways of the mountains."

To my surprise, he then began pointing to the fallen enemies. "Each of these shows much youth. Doubtless this raid was meant to turn them into warriors. Now they will never learn the ways of their people. They will never be able to contribute to their community. Their people are poorer for their loss."

"But they came to kill your people, Wise Owl. Should you not defend yourselves?"

"Are you sure they came to kill? You were at the forefront of our defense. What did the first man you encountered do?"

I thought back. The crash of their charge had left me little time to think, only to react. Yet thinking back, it did seem he had struck me before I slew him. "He struck me with a stick. I knew it would at worst sting so I let it through."

Wise Owl nodded. "Exactly. Had he used a tomahawk he doubtless would have split your skull. His intent was to gain honor, not kill. Such is the way with us."

"But they killed three of your people!" I protested. "And I did not kill all of their dead myself. Surely you are not saying...I do not understand!"

Wise Owl nodded sadly. "You confirm my fears. All the peoples of the land have but a few people. We must husband our resources. Warfare can be settled without killing on a large scale. I have seen many summers pass with fewer deaths combined than died just here. When our people saw you slaying so many, they too indulged in senseless slaughter."

I tried to see his point. It was very difficult, however, as I had never thought of warfare this way. Warfare was brutally simple. The side which best destroyed the opponents availability and desire to fight back universally won. Therefore, it behooved us to slay the enemy as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Yet he seemed to be suggesting the possibility of winning a battle with few or no lethal casualties. This made no sense at all and ran contrary to every principle I had ever fought under. I tried to think of a way to explain this to him.

Before I could, however, Running Bear came towards us, tears streaking his eyes. 

Wise Owl turned to him. "You are distraught, Running Bear. What is the problem?"

Running Bear pointed back at the village. "These were just a diversionary force. Others raided our longhouses. They took women and children." He turned to me with a great sob. "And they took Spring Salmon! She is gone!"

New Year's Resolution Page 6

I wandered about for quite some time. I was beginning to enjoy these moments of solitude. My life at home was always a rush, full of important meetings and social engagements. The opportunities for such relaxation were practically non-existent. Here, where they were practically forced upon me I found them stimulating and thought provoking.

A social engagement in Lahana was every bit as intense warfare  as the more honest sort with swords and bows. However, in these engagements it was a clever turn of phrase, a subtle insult, a plot to bring humiliation on ones opponent. Never was there a moment for peace because one always must be planning their next political machination.

As I walked I began to hear the forest. Had anyone said such a thing to me previously I would have laughed at them and devastated them with a verbal rejoinder that would have humiliated them. How could one "hear the forest"? What sounds could it make?

Yet now, as I walked alone, I heard the forest. It was not just the creak of a tree. Now I was beginning to understand what such a phrase meant...there was a breeze moving through that I would feel momentarily. The chatter of a squirrel was not just random noise but was the effect of some movement. In time I would come to be able to interpret these sounds but that was not yet the case.

At first I was lost in thought as to how I would return home and attend to my duties. Slowly, however, the peace of this place was seeping in. It is perhaps a measure of the calming influence this land had on me that I started thinking about his words regarding my potential future with Spring Salmon and how I would affect the young people.

It was not that I feared for them physically. Even in the short time I had known them I had seen how prepared they were for violence. It seemed to me that the youngest children were taught the use of weapons such as the bow, dagger, and tomahawk. While I was not sure what "counting coup" was, I understood it was some act of war that children as young as 12 had successfully performed. Yes, these were a people skilled in the art of war. I had seen enough of their skills to suspect they would hold their own against even a company of my finest warriors.

As I thought, I had come to an overlook and seated myself. It provided an expansive view that covered a huge amount of country. I could see distant mountains from which the large river descended into the ocean. I saw forests of such grandeur I could scarce believe these trees had any relation to those of my homeland. I saw valleys of such a vibrant green they scarce seemed real to me.

As I sat there thinking and looking I gradually became aware of a mighty eagle soaring on the wind currents. Somehow I knew it was the same one from just a few days before. As I watched he circled in ever-expanding circles that slowly but surely brought him closer to me.

Never before had I indulged in animal watching and yet now I was doing so for the second time in two days. Yet how could I not indulge in observing the beat of those powerful wings, the steely-eyes resolve of this fierce beast of prey, the deadly claws. 

 Suddenly he turned into an incredibly steep dive. I followed the path of his high-speed plummet. I knew I would not be able to see his prey but there was something awe-inspiring in the rush of his flight. Then he wheeled back into the sky just as he reached the tree tops. However, right where he had been heading my attention was drawn by movement.

Had I not been looking, I never would have noticed it, for in the vast expanse of land it was quite subtle. Once my attention was drawn, however, I noticed there was a lot of movement. As I watched several men moved through a clearing in the trees. Casually my eyes traced their line of travel. 

Suddenly it occurred to me that they would run into the village where I was staying if they continued their current course. I did not know how I knew that since I was not completely clear on how exactly to return to the village. I was finding many things coming to me, little bits of knowledge that I was picking up intuitively ever since arriving here. 

I looked back to where I had seen the movement. It took me a few moments to locate them again. As I looked, I saw a lot of weapons. It also appeared there were no women with them. Instinctively I knew this was a party bent on combat.

I have never had a problem reacting swiftly. I was trained not only for political combat but also as a complete warrior. I knew I needed to sound the warning. 

I did not hesitate even a moment, but turned and started back towards the village at a steady lope. While I had no reason believe they were planning to attack the village, I had no reason not to, either. One thing I had always been is decisive. Since I knew of no other local village it just seemed natural they were headed towards ours.

From where I was I knew I could arrive back at the village before these invaders. I was no simpering diplomat but a hardened warrior and it was nothing for me to run at a rapid pace, even over the uneven ground that led down from my lofty viewpoint. Still, it was a long run and I was breathing quite heavily when I ran back into the village. The first person i saw was Wise Owl.

I pointed in the direction from which I believed the invaders were coming and made a few hand gestures, forgetting he could understand my words. Wise Owl was no fool. He instantly understood the situation. 

With a few shouted commands he brought the village men running and in no time flat they were prepared to defend themselves. Someone tried to press a bow into my hands but I shook my head. I would use my trusty rapier. I turned to tell him this and was astonished to see I was standing alone. They had all melted into the ground like they had never been.

I hesitated for just a moment. It seemed to me they should be lining up to receive a charge. Where had they gone? Before I could consider an alternate means of warfare the invaders charged into the village clearing with a series of blood-curdling war whoops.

One man was quite close to me already and running full speed, a club upraised to bash in my head. I reacted instinctively, throwing him with a rolling hip toss and in the same movement drawing my rapier. Before he could rise I had slashed his chest and spun to face another screaming warrior. I parried his tomahawk stroke and my riposte, a maneuver as natural to me as breathing, took him through the throat. Here I was in my element. 

And then Running Bear and the other village warriors were in the fray. It was a melee such as I had not encountered since the unstructured brawls of my early warrior training. My blade darted like a snake, my years of training and practice paying off as opponent after opponent spun away with blood streaming from their encounter with my blade. I do not know how many I killed or wounded but it did seem I was constantly fending off one and only one opponent at a time. This I did not expect...in Lahanish warfare it was not uncommon for 5 or 6 opponents to gang up on me. Facing but one opponent, I was never even remotely endangered.

And then they were running. I do not know what caused them to break but as quickly as the attack had begun it was over and they headed back into the forest, leaving behind perhaps a dozen bodies.

New Year's Resolution Day 5

As soon as I exited the chamber I returned to the world as I knew it. No longer was I seeing a variety of animals and plants but instead I saw the people as they really were. Or, perhaps, I saw them as I perceived them to be. Perhaps while I was within I saw them as they were? It was a question I never fully resolved.

The other immediate effect was I no longer understood their words. Yet I was not as ignorant as I had been prior to the meeting for I understood enough of their hand motions to communicate relatively clearly.

Running Bear, ever-present smile on his face, came to greet me. Presently I understood he wanted me to go on a hunt with him. I tried to explain I had no weapons worthy of bringing down game. Without hesitation he appropriated a bow and quiver from a nearby longhouse.

The quiver was a beautiful piece of artwork. Various colored quills had been woven in intricate geometric patterns. I was stunned by their beauty. The bow was a sturdy piece of craftsmanship as well. There was one small problem, however. As a gentleman, I had never used a bow. Men resolved our quarrels as gentlemen should, with sword in hand for man to man combat. It was only the lowly peasants who stooped to striking men down with bow and arrow without fear of reprisal.

After several moments he understood I did not know how to use a bow. This caused him a certain amount of consternation and a great deal of amusement. He clearly had never met anyone my age who was not intimately familiar with the use of the bow. This was brought home to me even more surely as I watched a young boy perhaps 4 years of age shooting a bow at some targets outside of camp. To my amazement the little tyke struck his target with every arrow he shot.

Running Bear elected to show me how to shoot instead of going on the hunt. His good natured instruction soon had me holding the bow correctly. I drew it back for my first shot just as the pretty young lady I had been watching earlier came into view. Running Bear made some comment that I did not catch all of. I did, however, hear the name they had given me, Man Full of Anger, and knew he was talking about me.

Suddenly I was embarrassed. Here I was, a grown man, being instructed in something that even their youngest children knew how to do, and that in front of a woman. In all my years in Lahana I had never been this humiliated. Throwing the bow down I stalked back to the longhouse where I had been resting and returned to my bed. There I stayed, sulking, until the next morning.

I do not know how late it was before the people themselves returned to their bed. I heard many murmurings outside for many hours. I wished to join them for I sensed a camaraderie among them such as I had never experienced. I wanted to experience it, however. It had an appeal to me that our solitary ways could never achieve. Yet pride held me back. Again and again today I had been embarrassed and humiliated among these people. I would not again show weakness to them. Resolved to never show such weakness again I finally drifted off to sleep.

Dawn found me awake, yet I was not the first to stir. I noted several women with fires going by the time I rose. As I exited the longhouse I was offered a bite to eat which I gratefully accepted. Once I emerged I realized I had nowhere to go. I was completely lost. For the first time in my life I had no responsibilities to attend to. Oh, to be sure, I needed to figure out where I was and how to continue my journey, but at this moment, until I could figure out how to speak fluently with these people, that concern was secondary.

I saw Wise Owl approaching. He nodded pleasantly to me. "Good morning, Man Full of Anger. I trust you slept well?"

"I did, Wise Owl. I thank you for your hospitality."

He nodded acceptance. "It is our way. The traveler is always welcome, the homeless sheltered, and the hungry fed."

"I have no way to pay you."

A nonchalant shrug was the reply. "There is no thought of debt or payment. When we see a need we fill it. Thus the people are happy. There is no jealousy. There is no resentment. We have peace and contentment." A shadow crossed his face. "I fear that you will destroy that."

My eyebrows arched in surprise. "Me? How can I destroy it?"

"Your ways are not ours. You fight against them. I fear that our young men will follow your ways instead of our own. Things that are new are exciting. They are still talking of your fight with Running Bear."

"A fight I lost," I pointed out, still humiliated by my defeat.

He shrugged. "Perhaps. Perhaps you simply did not know the rules. Be that as it may, you stood longer against Running Bear than has any other warrior since he came of age."

"He has been fighting long?"

Wise Owl nodded. "He has perhaps 22 summers now. Before the sun came 12 times Running Bear had counted coup. For over 10 summers he has grown as a warrior. Yet you are a battle he cannot win."

"How can he not win when he has already defeated me?"

Wise Owl smiled indulgently. "Ah, the impatience of youth. You refer to the physical confrontation. I refer to the battle for his heart. He admires so much about you. You carry a weapon such as he has never seen. The eagle has allowed you himself as your totem. Already Running Bear speaks highly of you to his sister, Spring Salmon."

"Spring Salmon?"

"Her life appears to be interwoven with hers. Already you have fought for her. She has accepted your claim."

I shook my head in confusion. "I have fought for no one. I have made no claim."

Wise Owl pointed towards the river and I understood he meant my brief encounter with Running Bear. "You defended her honor."

"I am not familiar with your ways, Wise Owl. I have not defended her honor. I defended my own."

"Perhaps, were you home, that would be so. But here your actions bespoke interest in her. For you to fail to speak with her parents about the prospect of marriage would be a grave affront to them."

"But you know nothing about me!" I protested.

"That is true. It is even possible they will refuse your offer. I suspect you will find yourself unable to provide for her. Yet you must make the attempt."

"I do not know how, Wise Owl. Nor to whom I would speak. Can you clear up this misunderstanding?"

"I cannot and would not even if I could. For me to interfere in such a way might anger the land. Whether you intended to or not you proposed marriage when you fought Running Bear. Now the next step is yours."

"But I do not speak your language or know your customs!" I was rapidly running out of objections.

"You seem to be doing all right with me," he replied. "I think you will find the words present themselves when the opportunity arrives." He paused for a moment. "I think you will find that your ways will hold you back. Learn to relax, Man Full of Anger. Time moves slowly here. Take some time to learn our ways. You might find that you like them. And now I must bathe."

I looked up in shock. We had come upon a limpid pool while we were talking. How far we had walked I did not know for I had not paid attention. Yet I sensed the only appropriate thing to do was leave Wise Owl in peace and find my own way back to the village.

As I turned to go it occurred to me I had not even mentioned a further issue. I had a betrothed at home.

New Year's Resolution Page 4

The young man with whom I had fought approached. Lost in thought I almost did not notice him. As always a wide smile creased his face. Had I been more aware I might have wondered how he could be so cheerful all the time. That was not my way, however. The emotions of others were irrelevant to we the nobles of Lahanah. We guided the people in what to feel, when to feel it, and why.

He pointed at me and then gestured in a way that clearly indicated I should follow him. We approached a longhouse that had been set back a good distance from the remainder of the village. I actually had not noticed it before. Several people got there before us. I observed each one performing a small ceremony before entering. They would gesture towards the sky and then towards the ground. Then they would bow to each of the four cardinal directions.

My guide of course performed the ceremony. I hesitated briefly. This was not my way and yet...yet somehow it felt right to do so. Perhaps it was residue of my encounter with the eagle but suddenly I did not wish to offend my hosts by insisting on only following my own traditions. 

It is hard to describe how significant this action was for me. The nobles of Lahanah are all proud, even haughty. We know our ways are not merely the best ways but indeed the only ways. We have a wisdom beyond that of other men and races. It is they who should bow to our traditions. Thus it had always been and thus we knew it would always be. Yet here I was willingly prepared to copy the actions of a race I was unfamiliar with.

I emulated as best I could the gestures towards sky and ground, then bowed in each of the four cardinal directions. As I completed the ceremony and entered the longhouse I heard a murmur of approval. It was obvious this small step, awkward as it had been, had been appreciated.

Soon a great number of men were gathered within. For quite some time there was simply a relaxed silence. At last one elderly man rose from his place and approached the fire burning in a circle in about the center of the longhouse. He used a stick to pull forth an ember from the center of the fire and this ember he used to light a long pipe.

He returned to his place and performed the same ceremony with the pipe as each person had made on entering the chamber, although he also spoke. To my surprise I understood what he was saying.

"We thank the sky which brings forth the sun and rain to nurture our crops. We thank the earth which produces for us the bounty from which we live. We thank the wind which refreshes us. We thank the land which gives us space to grow. We thank the game which feeds us. We thank the strength that gives us peace." He then puffed on the pipe and handed it to the man sitting to his left.

This went on for quite some time, each person presenting the pipe to sky, earth, and the four cardinal directions before taking a smoke and passing it to his neighbor. Presently I knew I was the next in line. I wondered what I should do.

Would they be offended if I participated? Would they be offended if I did not? What was meant by this entire ceremony? It was brought home to me how dire a situation I was in. Here I was in a strange land where I knew not the language or customs. I had no idea where I was in relation to home and had no allies to help me return there. I was completely, utterly alone here.

Then there was no more time to think. My hands were guided to grasp the pipe and then it was left in my hands. It seemed natural to follow the ritual.

Taking the pipe I grasped it as close to the fashion they had demonstrated as possible. Slowly, carefully, I repeated the ceremony, offering the pipe as I had seen them do. Nervously I took a puff from the pipe.

Colors exploded before my eyes. The people within the chamber receded and in their place I saw many elements of nature...the old man seemed to me to be an owl, the young man with whom I had fought appeared as a bear in full run, and so forth. In amazement and wonder I passed the pipe on and sat back.

As the ceremony continued it suddenly occurred to me I was more relaxed than I had been in my entire life, even since birth. I was in a strange world among a people I knew nothing of speaking a language I had never heard and yet somehow, some way, I was at peace with their world and my place in it.

At last the pipe made its way back to the old man who had begun it whom I now knew to be Wise Owl and for several minutes silence reigned. Finally he rose to his feet and then he began to speak, slowly but with great power.

"It is a day of tremendous portents. Many things have occurred today as they always do. The salmon came to spawn. The take was good. We will winter well, my friends."

He paused for several minutes. I looked around uncomfortably. Lahanish politics did not tolerate silence well. One proverb went, "When silence comes, harm follows." Yet these people seemed quite relaxed.

After what seemed an interminable time he again spoke. "Other great events occurred. Today also we had a stranger enter our midst."

He nodded in my direction.

"Man Full of Anger is new to our ways. He does not yet comprehend our ways. We must be patient with him as he learns them. Yet his coming is a sign in and of itself."

For several minutes silence reigned again. My back was beginning to ache. I wished to stand, to pace, to speak but I somehow knew that was a transgression for which even my ignorance might not allow forgiveness.

Wise Owl continued. "Already he has fought with Running Bear. While Running Bear defeated him, he showed much heart in the fight."

I waited for him to continue. It was by now obvious to me Wise Owl never rushed his words but took time between each sentence to compose his thoughts and convey them exactly as intended. Time meant little, accuracy everything.

"I heard of the eagle taking the rabbit from his very footsteps. Such a sign has seldom occurred. Not in all my years as medicine man has such a portent come to us. Desperate times are upon us."

Once more he paused. I thought back to those exhilarating moments when the eagle swooped out of the sky, claws extended, aim unerring, to pull the rabbit off into the sky with it. I could not say why I felt no fear or why it felt right but somehow I knew it had a deeper meaning than I had previously assigned to it.

"My people, we must be careful. New things are coming. All know the eagle is the sign of war. The speed of the rabbit will not allow us to escape it. We must prepare lest we too be swept off in the talons of our enemies."

Puzzlement swept over his face. "Yet Man Full of Anger is a portent I cannot read. Is he meant to save us? Or is he the sign of our destruction?"

At those words every face turned to me and Wise Owl fell silent. This time he would not break the silence. It was my turn.

I elected to follow his example. I stood slowly and took in each of the men in the chamber. Speaking held no fears for me as I had been trained in the art of making speeches from before I had even learned to walk. 

 "My name is Markton de Leisral. I am a noble of Lahanish responsible for guiding my people. I was on a mission to negotiate treaties of trade and peace with the Ogres, Orcs and Kobolds when a tremendous storm destroyed the vessel I was on. I am not sure how this information can clarify what portent I hold for you.  I do not know what became of my companions." I hesitated at the conclusion of this little speech, then sat down.

I am not sure what I expected but it certainly was not what occurred. The pipe ceremony was repeated and then, without explanation or even another word, the council ended.

New Year's Resolution Page 3

I do not know how long I wandered. I was lost in thought and barely cognizant of my surroundings. At last things intruded on my awareness. This was not a land such as any I had ever seen or even heard of. This was an untouched land, an aged land of mystery and power.

Whereas Lahanah had been developed, albeit slowly, for many centuries there were far fewer signs of civilization here. The trees were massive...the girths of some were so large it might take 15 or 20 people to completely encircle them. I mentally contrasted this with the comparatively slender trunks of the trees from home. There the trees had been cut for castles, ships, siege engines, firewood, and anything else we could think of. The constant chopping and cutting had leveled our forests.

Here there were certainly signs that trees had been cut...those longhouses and canoes had to have come from somewhere...but it was much more selective that our own habitual clear cutting. I found that I liked it.

I suppose I would have wandered for many hours more had my attention not been captured by the flight of a bird overhead. It was a magnificent bird the likes of which I had never seen.

Not that I was unfamiliar with birds...I had, as did all noblemen, participated in falconry. But those birds could not compare with this magnificent beast. It twisted and soared upon the winds at heights I could barely comprehend, but even then I could see it was easily the largest bird I had ever seen.

I stopped and watched in awe. It circled lazily on the winds above, occasionally flapping its wings with a grace that belied its size.

I had never really been much for watching the various animals. There was a growing segment of our population calling themselves "naturalists" who were making involved studies of animal lives...their feeding patterns, mating patterns, social networks and other such things. I had never really been interested. They were merely animals...what difference did it make how they chose to feed or mate? But this animal...this magnificent bird was worth watching! For the first time I understand the inclination of the naturalists to watch animals for hours on end and it made sense to me. Perhaps they were doing something more than just wasting time.

It had always been thus with me. Those who shared my interests I regarded as intelligent. Those who found other things fascinating or found importance in things I considered to be nought but wastes of time, on the other hand, I considered nothing but imbeciles worthy only of disgust and ridicule.

Suddenly the bird spotted its prey and plunged towards earth...right in front of me. I never moved as it swooped down from on high, catching its terrified prey in its claws and carrying it off to its perch. I was so awed by the grace and majesty of the attack that to this day I cannot say what unfortunate animal was captured in those powerful claws...perhaps it was a squirrel or small rabbit, I do not know. But in some small way I felt like I had shared in the hunt with the bird which I soon learned was called an eagle.

The emotions of contentment as it had circled the sky, relaxed but vigilant, followed by the thrill of flight as it plunged towards its doomed prey and then the exultation as the evening's meal was captured...all these things coursed through me as if I myself had been the eagle. It was an experience like no other I had ever encountered.

I do not know how long I stood there in that massive forest, overwhelmed both by its immensity and by the powerful emotions I had just experienced. I might be standing there still had not some of my hosts come looking for me.

They had no trouble finding me for I knew nothing of tracking nor of how or why a person might wish to hide their trail. But several happy, smiling men came up to me. One gasped and pointed to the ground mere inches from my feet.

I glanced where they were looking. To me there was no story in the ground but for my hosts there was a complete tale of a small animal running, the bird striking and carrying it away mere inches from where I had stood. They saw it just as clearly as if they had seen it happen with their own eyes.

They pointed to the tacks, the sky, and me, continuing their rapid fire conversation even though I still did not understand a word of it. It was obvious something of great import to them had occurred.

After some time they completed their discussion and we headed back towards the lodges as a group.They were still ecstatic from the fish catching and even more caught up in awe at how close I had been to the eagle. When we returned to the village they quickly spread the story of what they had seen. The young lady I had been watching that caused my embarrassment in the first place was among the first ones told. I saw a glint of amusement in her eye, but chastened by my earlier experience I pointedly turned away.

As I had always been, even at home, I was alone even in the midst of many people. This was the first time I had noticed it, however. In Lahanah, the power to stand alone and aloof was a mechanism for self-defense and an expression of power. Here it was just loneliness.

Page 2, January 2nd

Slowly consciousness returned. I was sore in every muscle of my body. Nothing I had ever experienced had prepared me for the power of the sea or the punishment it would inflict upon me.

I opened my eyes slowly, unsure of what I might see. I must have made a sound for when my eyes flicked open there were several children around me. One was more forward than the rest. Stepping boldly closer to me she pointed at my face and said something, then pointed to her own ears. I noticed hers were far more delicate than my own and were pointed, a curiosity I noted was repeated on the other children.

I shook my head to indicate I did not comprehend what she was asking. With a shrug, she led the children on a merry chase throughout the building. I shook my head in wonder at their wildness. Lahanish children would never be allowed such behavior. They learned early to stand quietly behind their parents while we conducted the business of Lahanah. The idea that one might approach an adult and have the temerity to inquire something without being bidden to do so was anathema to me.

Nor did we have any such dwellings as the one that now confronted me. Unlike the towering stone castles of my home, this was a long, wide building with a low ceiling made of planks. There were many small fire pits scattered throughout and in the center was one large fire pit that looked like it was large enough to warm the entire building. Over the center fire pit was a large rack on which several hunks of meat from some animal I could not identify were hung. Blankets divided the building into various rooms, though what purpose they had was unclear to me.

I stretched luxuriously and when I did so I knocked loose several poultices they had applied to me while I slept. I picked one up and looked at it curiously. It smelled of herbs, though not of any with which I was familiar. I dropped it back on the floor and made my way through the dwelling to the outside. As I did so, several women engaged in various tasks looked briefly at me before returning to their tasks.

Upon exiting the dwelling I noted it was right upon the banks of a river the likes of which I had never seen. It was far wider than any I had seen in all my travels. Set back from the river were trees of a height and girth I was completely unprepared for. It was truly an impressive sight I would carry with me for the rest of my life.

The river descended into the nearby ocean which the building was quite close to. Looking back, I saw perhaps a dozen similar buildings nestled against the banks of the river. Children were freely coming and going from the various long houses with no pattern that I could distinguish. Each building had its entrance decorated with some fearsome figure painted about the mouth of the dwelling. I started to examine the one surrounding the door of the house I had emerged from when movement in the nearby forest caught my eye.

Turning I saw a lithe young man come running out of the forest from upriver. One of the children noticed and set forth a ululating cry that was immediately taken up by dozens of others.

Immediately womenfolk appeared from the various houses and from various other tasks they had been at. By the time the young man arrived there was a frenzy of activity around several small boats which I later learned were called canoes that were beached upon the riverbank.

I stepped aside as the women rushed forth from the longhouse I had been in and I curiously followed them to see what was going on. The women from each dwelling seemed to assemble at specific boats and the reason was soon apparent.

The men of the village came rushing towards the canoes from a variety of directions. They were uniformly jubilant. They used a great many gestures as they spoke and soon the women were joining them in the canoes. They gestured to me to join them and, with nothing better to do, I elected to do so. Entering the canoe was far less awkward than I had imagined it would be and I quickly found a seat. Unlike my manner aboard my own ship, here I simply tried to get out of the way.

It was not until I was seated in the canoe that it occurred to me they might be heading out to the ocean. My good sense over rode that notion, however. The man who started this journey had come downriver, so whatever the cause was must have to do with something he had seen. 

The trip upriver did not take long but I learned much of this people I found myself amongst. They spoke with their hands and bodies almost as much as their words. It was not difficult to tell that some great event was occurring by the joyful expressions on the faces of the women as the men described to them whatever it was we were going to see.

Soon the canoes pulled in to the river bank and I was able to see what had caused the excitement. It turned out to be fish...more fish than I had ever seen. They were trapped in a little side pool. A cursory examination of the river showed my hosts had built some sort of device across the stream which forced all fish of a certain size out of the river into these catches to the side while still allowing other fish to slip through and continue their journey upstream. I had never seen a fish that swam upstream before and this thought diverted my attention for a few moments. However, I was never one to consider things out of the ordinary. I simply accepted whatever came and went about my business.

As we disembarked from the canoes a silence fell upon the group. An old man, the last to clamber up on the banks, approached the trap and carefully selected from it one of the largest, most beautiful of the fish found within. Later I would learn they were called salmon but at the time I had never seen such a fish before.

Reverently he raised the fish towards the north and recited some words that struck me with their power. Even though I could not understand them I felt something within me respond to them. He repeated the ritual to the south, then towards the west, then the east. once he had completed his ritual towards each of the cardinal directions he suddenly produced a knife and in a few brisk movements gutted the fish. He then laid it upon a cairn that had obviously been used for this many times.

I noted someone had built a fire and in no time at all the luscious smell of fresh cooked fish was wafting through the air. The old man began cutting off small bits and presenting them to various village members. Each person took the fish and replicated his ceremony of presenting their bit of fish to the four cardinal directions and then consumed their portion. He gestured to me to take a piece. Unsure of the meaning I repeated their little ceremony. 

As I completed the ceremony and took my bite of salmon a feeling of peace coursed through me. Though I did not understand the words nor the meaning of the ceremony yet I felt calm, fulfilled, and a strange sense of accomplishment as if some great ask had been completed...almost as if I had expressed gratitude to the fish and it had accepted my gratitude. 

Certainly the flavor was far superior to that of any fish I had ever consumed. I nodded in appreciation. If no other good thing came from this trip the discovery of this tasty morsel would make it all worthwhile.

Suddenly these wild, disorganized people began moving with a precision that even the best noble regiments would have envied. The men moved to the fish traps and began sorting the fish, throwing some back into the river upstream from the traps and others up on the bank. Once they were on the bank the women took knives and filleted them with a skill that astonished me. In less time than it takes to tell about it they would make an incision along the spine of the fish and with one quick motion gut it. They then spread the fish out on racks that were set at intervals upon the banks close to the racks.

Up and down the river from where we were I saw other groups doing the same thing. It was clear to me this was not an unusual activity for them. The racks and traps led me to believe this was a frequent occurrence. I later learned they did indeed do this each year. When the first runs went through it was the busiest time of the year and should they not do well then the entire village suffered hardship and privations, but if they did well then their winter would be pleasant indeed.

I watched for a time thinking that perhaps I could be of help to these people who had taken me in but it was obvious I would just be in their way. For a short time I watched them with great interest. I noticed one young lady being instructed in how to clean the fish by an older woman. Her rapid, deft movements captivated me with their grace. I suppose I watched her too intently for suddenly I became aware of several men talking, gesturing towards me and laughing.

I flushed, first in embarrassment, then in anger. Did they not know who I was? Who were these peasants to laugh at me? I was Lahanish nobility! I was larger than any of them so I picked the largest one and stalked towards him. There could be no mistaking the stormy look on my face, rigid back, and purposeful walk. They knew I was angry long before I reached their group.

To my amazement, this enhanced rather than diminished their amusement. There are many things I had experienced in life but being openly mocked was not one of them. The wrath of a Lahanish noble often leads to disaster for his victim. Losing your land and money is the least of your worries. Even death itself is no fear...it is the tortures he can have visited upon his enemies that make him feared. I had never had anyone killed but I had never shown mercy, either.

To be sure, there was a great deal of mocking in our politics but it was much more subtle. A comment here, an aside there, a verbal barb to a confidant deliberately made where it could be overheard....these were the tools of ridicule. The people I now found myself amongst however were open and up front about it.

In my anger I forgot they did not speak my language nor I theirs. I began to harangue him for his effrontery in laughing at my discomfiture.

The entire mood had changed from one of jubilation and happiness to one of tension and sadness. Something I did pushed him to react and finally he pressed both hands in my chest and pushed me backwards.

I had never been touched by a commoner before. It simply wasn't done. Nothing in my life had prepared me for that and I reacted as would any other nobleman. I drew my rapier, fully intending to run him through for the insult.

This brought a reaction from the entire tribe as instantly the men surrounded me, grabbing my arm to keep me from wielding my weapon. Had I been thinking more rationally I would have recognized their anger at my violation of their mores. I was no longer in my realm and my actions were suited for a different place.

They quickly formed a circle and pulled my rapier from my hand. My victim, far from looking fearful looked excited. He pulled a dagger that looked as if it were made of stone and tossed it to the ground off to the side. Numerous other watchers engaged in what I instantly recognized was betting. I had no way of knowing who they favored but whoever it was, no one went wanting for someone to take them up on their wager. I rapidly deduced I was going to get my satisfaction, but it would be in hand to hand combat rather than the civilized fencing of my home. This held no terrors for me, however. I had engaged often in wrestling activities in competition with other noblemen and more than held my own.

I elected to follow his lead by divesting myself of my own dagger. The eyes of everyone were drawn to it. Unlike their own weapons of hewn stone, mine was made of the finest steel available. It was well cared for and the razor edge was certainly capable of feats their weapons could not match. 

I placed it in a pile with my shirt. Having only one garment with me, I did not want it ruined should the combat be prolonged. He gestured at his knife, then at mine. Thinking he wished to turn this into a knife-fight I shook my head. 

He then pointed to my shirt and his blanket which he had removed. I then understood he wished to wager as well on the outcome of the combat. I looked at my shirt, worn and torn from the ship wreck and then at his blanket, well woven, colorful, and certainly warmer than my shirt would be. I nodded and tossed my shirt over towards him.

Almost before the shirt hit the ground he was on me with the speed of a panther. I barely was able to face him before his blow struck me on the side of the head. I was astonished at the power behind it. I staggered back but he left me no time to recover. His hands were everywhere, reaching, grasping, clutching and it was everything I could do to fend him off. 

Here I was, perhaps the finest swordsman and hand to hand fighter in all of Lahanah and I was being pummeled by one of the youngest members of this small fishing village. I got in a few blows and once thought I would have him thrown to the ground but like the fish flopping about in the trap behind him he slipped from my grasp, and got behind me. I considered my options and decided the best course was to fall to my knees and pull him over my head but he saw my ploy and threw me to the ground. I scrambled to my feet before he could get on my back but to my surprise everyone was exchanging money. I instantly realized it was over and he had been judged the winner.

To my surprise he was grinning widely and gesturing towards me as if we were friends. My glare quickly disabused him of that notion but did not take the smile from his eyes. With a shrug he collected his winnings and he and the others returned to their work. 

Embarrassed by my actions and even more by my easy defeat, I wandered off the other way into the forest. I had much to think about.

page 1, Januray 1st (retroactive)

I was never a light sleeper whether on shore or land but even less so at sea. It was not a place I liked to be. I preferred the openness of my beloved moors or the comfortable breezes of my even more beloved forests. Had it not been for my responsibilities to the rest of the nobility no man would ever have gotten me on a ship, though I had the wanderer’s love for almost all travel. My dislike for the ocean was the primary reason I had regretted it almost every day of the long journey which had already seen us afloat for several months. The captain and his crew no doubt trembled when they saw me appear on deck for I was always irritable and usually on the verge of seasickness.

The captain had begrudgingly cleared a space for my daily practice with the rapier. Though I had no opponent worthy of the name on board ship yet I was unwilling to see my considerable skills diminish. At first the captain refused, taking as his right the status of absolute commander of the vessel per the rules of the sea. The second night out a brief discussion regarding family status and consequences for his loved ones at home should he persist in denying me my practice rectified that difficulty to my satisfaction.

As I look back on it now I think that was an abuse of power but at the time it was legitimately the only path I saw available. Lahanash politics were not known for their niceties. We of the nobility knew there was only one use for power and that was to wield it. But it was not mere selfishness that caused me to exercise it to assure my continued rapier practice. It was we the nobility who kept our home protected and should we waver in our dedication to the martial arts then our little island nation might soon be overrun. Therefore it was paramount that I maintain my skills while at sea, particularly in light of my role.

We were on a tour to visit the Ogres, the kobolds, and the Orcs on a tour of goodwill. I was the diplomat to be sure, but also the enforcer. My fellow nobleman, Smitters and Larvel were my equal or perhaps even my superiors in the art of negotiation but they were at best average with the rapier. Nor did either of them have my interest in it or perhaps they would have provided much wished for sparring partners during the interminable hours we spent bobbing about the ocean like a cork.

I had to be careful during the particularly bad moments when the ocean demonstrated its capacity for violence. I could not for the life of me understand how the monstrous power of the waves could be withstood by the rather thin wooden walls of our craft. Although I was too proud to let my fear show outwardly, inwardly I shivered in abject terror every time a wave crashed against the boat, fearing at best to be capsized and at worst to see the wood splinter and shatter before the might of the waves.

 For several days we had been struggling against particularly bad conditions. The captain was as skilled as any in the entire Lahanan fleet but he admitted he was nigh powerless against these winds we had encountered. We had been blown further and further off course for days or perhaps even weeks. My fear of the sea no doubt made it seem longer than it was.

I mentioned that I was always a light sleeper. That proved to be my salvation for one night my fears regarding the power of the sea proved to be well founded. I woke early when my hammock slammed into the wall. Cursing and nursing my bruised shoulder I fought my way out of the tangled mass of the hammock and strapped on my rapier. 

It may sound strange that I would do so but it was an act as natural as breathing and not even one I consciously thought about. To go anywhere unarmed is something no self-respecting Lahanish noble would do.

I struggled a bit with the ladder as the ship was pitching even more than usual. Even after months at sea I had not developed the knack the more experienced sailors had of moving with the ship and it was difficult climbing the ladder but somehow I made it.

I do not know enough of the sea to put a name to the horrors I saw when I reached the deck of the ship. The height of the waves inspired awe and terror in every fiber of my being and the howling wind was so forceful I was immediately flung across the deck. Only when I slammed forcefully into the bulk-head did my slide come to an abrupt stop. I scrambled to my feet as quickly as I could and hastily looked around to see if anyone was laughing at my clumsiness. Had they been I would have cut them down where they stood for their effrontery. However, they were all much too busy at their work to notice my problems.

I was certainly no sailor so every wave looked terrifying to me but I had never seen a wind such as this one. The sailors tried to scramble aloft to fix the sails. Even I could tell there was a problem with the way they were fluttering madly to and fro, whipping the ship about in madcap circles of a type I had never experienced. I watched in terror as even these experienced men of the sea were unable to perform their assigned functions. Several were swept from their positions amongst the sails by the brute force of the wind. Their cries as they were flung into the sea were horrible to hear, although the noise of the sea and wind probably drowned them out. I have oft wondered if I actually heard the screams of the men or if it were only my own fears screaming their siren song in my own head.

For a brief moment I thought I saw the captain pointing at me and screaming something but then one of the masts snapped and if he had been about to direct someone towards me his attention was immediately drawn to the danger to his ship. 

One set of sails had come with the mast and now it was dragging in the water, acting as an anchor on our ship. The wind buffeted us one way, the waves another, and now the sail acted as a dead weight that effectively kept the captain from turning his ship to meet the waves. It occurred to me we were doomed even as a second mast splintered as some object was hurled from the sea, our misfortune being for it to strike the mast full-on. The brief glimpse I saw of it made it look like some huge fish, perhaps even a whale and the brief, terrifying thought came to me that if the sea had enough power to hurl animals like that then certainly our ship was doomed. 

Then there was no more time to think for I was swept overboard as a wave tilted the ship to starboard…or perhaps port, I never could straighten in my mind which was which…and the ship began to take on water so fast it was only a matter of time.

Though I disliked the sea I did know how to swim and I did so, madly, frantically, driven with a power born of fear. I had no idea where I was swimming to. There was no way to determine which direction land lay in even if we believed we were anywhere near land. Even worse, there was no way to deal with the force of the waves.

Again and again the waves crashed over me, forcing me to hold my breath for painfully long moments until I was able to gasp in another precious lungful of air. But there was too much pride, too much will to live to take the easy path and surrender to the inevitable. Though I was certain to drown, I would fight for my life to the very bitter.

I kept struggling, knifing through the water as I had been taught. And then my hand struck something. I could not discern the shape, nor did I care. All I knew was here was relief from fighting the ocean alone. Here was a chance to rest, even if for only a few seconds. I grasped it and held on for dear life. Whatever it was, it was round…and it reminded me of the forests back home. I assumed it was some portion of the ship but to this day am not sure for after a few minutes I lost my grip and it was torn from my grasp to whirl away and never be seen again.

Yet fortune continued to smile upon me for just as my strength was giving out the wind and the waves suddenly calmed to a glassy smooth surface. To my amazement I saw the battered remains of some portion of the ship bobbing atop the waves just a few hundred yards ahead. Renewed hope gave me a burst of strength and I struggled towards this new miracle. While it no longer resembled a seaworthy vessel but rather the hapless efforts of a youngling to build a raft it was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. I struggled aboard and collapsed in exhaustion.

I do not know how long I slept or even if I slept. Yet my destiny was not to die on the sea alone and forgotten, for when I was again aware of my surroundings I was surrounded by the flotsam and jetsam of our ship. Somehow, some way I was able to fashion a remarkably crude sail. I had no idea how to use it to my advantage but I figured whichever way the wind guided me was more hopeful than just allowing the sea to carry me to and fro. I also pulled aboard a couple of flatter sections of the wood floating by, no doubt debris from the ship, which I was then able to use as oars.

I was not used to such physical labor as rowing, however. My hands blistered and cracked and blistered again and still I saw no end to the torment. My back ached in every muscle but I would not quit until the last breath was torn from my body. My will to live was stronger than ever.

Slowly hope returned when it occurred to me I could see moving figures in the sky in the distance…birds? Could it be? Surely that could only be birds and I must be close to land? My energy returned with that faint hope. 

Ignoring the pain in my back, my shoulders, my arms, my hands, I pulled upon the oars with all my might. The makeshift raft shot forward with all possible speed as I struggled towards land. Then a gentle breeze kicked up…pushing me away from the land. Crying in frustration I leaped to my feet and ripped loose my rapier. In a frenzy of fear, anger and frustration I slashed loose the tattered shreds that comprised my little sail and kicked them into the sea.

In my struggles, however, I also kicked the oars overboard. I was stranded yet again, but this time almost within reach of safety. Throwing caution to the wind I replaced the rapier in the scabbard I always wore across my back and leaped into the sea once more.

Powerful strokes drove me towards that faintest of hopes. I did not allow myself to think about the possibilities that perhaps these birds circled an isolated island and that I had doomed myself with my rashness or that they were further away than I had imagined. All I could think about was driving my muscular body through the pounding surf as rapidly as I could.

After what seemed like an eternity I saw there was indeed land. Laughing maniacally I drove myself forward, harder, faster, expending all my energy. I swore to myself that if only I could reach land I would never go upon the sea again. I only hoped I landed among the Ogres, for if the Kobolds or Orcs were to find me in such condition my relief would be short lived indeed.

Finally with my last flagging strength I dragged myself up on the beach. I crawled as far from the sea as I could get before exhaustion overcame me and I collapsed into a deep sleep such as I had never had before.

I woke to a sharp pain in my side. Startled, I sat up. It was a foolish gesture as the pounding in my head immediately notified me. I heard a gasp and looked around. I was surrounded by creatures such as I had never seen before.

They were whip-thin, more stout than the kobolds yet not so stout as Orcs or perhaps even goblins. They wore their hair long and some sort of blanket as a garment. Their footwear looked to be some sort of worked deerskin and had colors and patterns of a beauty that amazed me. Various adornments hung from their ears even though they were men. Had I not been so close to them the jewelry might have caused me to mistake them for women such as the Lahanish maidens from home.

One of them spoke but his words were as gibberish to me. I tried several tongues for I had mastered not just the basics of the major powers but also the trading tongue and several local dialects. They understood none of my languages, nor could I understand theirs.

At last we resorted to a crude sign language. Presently it became clear that they recognized my weakened condition and wanted me to return with them to their village to rest and eat. Thus it was that I came to encounter for the first time the People. Though I did not know it then, they would be my constant companions, friends, enemies…and yes, sometimes lovers for the rest of my life.