Chapter 13: The Woodlands pt1

Meha looked to the others who had despondent looks etched upon their faces. The little amount of men had been reduced to a measly two, well one man and one boy actually.

The women could fight of course but taking care of the children took precedent, they had already lost a number of them, first to the raid then to the constant attacks as well as the diseases that thrived during the winter.

"What do we do now?" One of the women asked Shyra one the villages only surviving witches. Harwood and a few other men had moved to save them during the invasion, before leading them down here, the journey had been by no means easy but they had made it.

They were close enough to the sea to obtain fish and the game around although not aplenty was sufficient enough. In this winter this place was almost akin to paradise compared to most of Skagos, but that was the exact reason why they were not alone. Other survivors as well as the nomadic tribes and the native tribes of the land had turned the place into a warzone.

The sounds of battle were heard almost everyday with their tribe acquiring quite a few victories, but they lost other times as well. Their most recent loss took away their leader and her uncle Harwood and forced them to move from their relatively great spot to one where moving to the shores to fish would be tantamount to suicide.

"We head further in and away from the sea", Shyra spoke up after a long silence with Tym their last man agreeing with her, "More tribes will be planning to get closer to the shore so if we were to do this we would be able to avoid more battles." His voice as he said those words got to Meha.

They all knew why more tribes were heading towards the shores, the winter had now lasted for a year and eight moons and based on Shyra's predictions it would not end this year but rather last a whole other year. A year and two moons, there was no way there was enough game to last every tribe and with even more travelling here after their losses in the main land things became even more stressful.

Meha had even began to hear murmurs of certain tribes who had given up on hunting game and began to hunt men, one of the women of here had suggested they do same but the idea was rejected albeit with hesitation Meha unfortunately realized.

"And what would we do once we encounter more enemies, winter is upon us, there are no allies during the winter only competitors and food", Meha stood reminding them of the truth of this world, "you know nothing of the true horrors of the winter" Shyra began.

"You were born in the village and experienced your last winter in the village so what do you know of the true winter. The other tribes would not waste manpower on us when they would need them to fight for a spot close to the shores."

"And if they see us as food?" Meha questioned her question reminding the others of their all too recent enemy. "Then this time we fight and die the Skagossi way" Shyra who had moved to stand mere inches away for Meha to stare into her brown eyes with her own grey eyes spoke with conviction.

*****

Surrounded by trees, and snow the four brothers sat around a fire taking a breather. The four now looked entirely different, compared to before they had made it down the mountain.

Each of their bodies now sported countless scars which told of their battles with Benjen sporting the most, his five ten name days body looked more comparable to a twenty name days Skagossi man. At his side lay his shield which Arthor had carved for him, the shield's design a combination of viking designs he remembered from his old world alongside traditional Skagossi designs.

Sitting by his side and munching on a rabbit was a seven name day Lothor whose most prominent scar was a horizontal one that laid right below his eyes and cut across his nose. The location of the scar told anyone who laid eyes on it just how close Lothor was to loosing his eyes as with just a few inches higher would have taken his eyes out.

Across Lothor was The six name day Ronell who sat cross legged a position he had recently grown fond of with his bow over his legs. He took a sip from his wine skin, one would consider all this normal until they saw his eyes which were pure white, his continuous training had paid off and although he was unable to do combat while warging he was able to perform everyday activities just fine. His brothers were certain he was probably the first person ever to be able to perform such a feat.

Arthor who silently watched his brothers had probably had the most growth amongst all of them. With a visible scar under his right eye, with his braids held together with twine and a body that was similar to man in his late teens.

Ronell suddenly stopped seemingly staring into nothing before turning to his brothers, "two people are coming, they seem battered and bloodied". "Alright, you know what to do" Arthor turned from Ronell to the others after saying so.

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