After a lengthy delay, here's the next installment.
Helmer marveled as he and his comrades made their way through the settlement. Like his home of First Warren, it was surrounded by a wall, though smaller and less imposing. Part of the wall was the natural formation of this part of the bluff, with cave entrances visible amid the rock. The rest was an ancient but sturdy stone construction, with towers at various points along it so that sentries or archers could look out.
The inside of the walled space was a ramshackle tangle of buildings. Many appeared as old as the wall, though there were signs of patching and other repairs. Others were newer, but a great variety of sizes and styles were evident. It seemed as though the settlement had originally been designed to make space between each building, but many gaps once intended as yards or alleys had become sites for dwellings and shops.
Rabbits of all age, sizes, and colors stared as they passed. Helmer did his best not to gape, though he took in much with his soldier’s gaze. The residents of the settlement were clad in fashions utterly unlike what he was used to. Then again, he supposed his attire must be just as strange to them.
Sigrid brought them at last to a tall house near the center of the settlement. After a quick conference with Stam, the party split. Stam, accompanied by Helmer and Hewson, followed Sigrid and several other Guardians into the house. They were led into what seemed to be a receiving room. Unlike such chambers in First Warren, there were no chairs, but there was a low table surrounded by large cushions.
On the opposite side of this from the door they had entered sat a middle-aged, black furred rabbit. Helmer could see that, were he standing, he would not be especially tall. The buck’s face was serious, but Helmer saw signs of a temperament that was normally kindly, even jovial. Curiously, the rabbit’s right hand bore a large ring resembling a lord’s medallion.
Bowing, Sigrid addressed the seated rabbit. “Mine Chief Tarvan, I is bringing you guests of much importance. This is being Lord Captain Stam of the army of King Jupiter, heir to Landerking of long ago. With him are being his lieutenants, Helmer and Hewson.
“Lord Captain and lieutenants, this is being Chief Tarvan, leader of our settlement. It is being to him that the rabbits of this clan of Tarvan Bluff are looking for guidance and protection. As First Guardian, I am being commander of our defenders under his direction.”
“Greetings, Chief Tarvan,” Stam said, Helmer and Hewson echoing him. “But if ye’ll pardon my asking, why does Guardian Sigrid say ‘our settlement’ and ‘this clan’? And why do ye go by Chief, when in days of old the rabbits of this bluff were led by a lord?”
Chief Tarvan nodded gravely. “Please to being seated, mine guests. I have a tale to be telling you for your king-if king he indeed bes. Please be taking no offense, but know that I is having questions for you as you does for me.”
Once Stam, his lieutenants, and Sigrid were seated, Chief Tarvan lifted his right hand. The ring Helmer had noticed glinted, and was even more obviously now a symbol of lordship. It was clearly ancient, but had been obviously been treasured and well maintained. Chief Tarvan stared down at it, gaze pensive, as he began to speak.
“As you has said, this settlement, and indeed all of Tarvan Bluff, was once being led by a lord. His family name was being Tarvan, and so his rabbits were calling their new home after him. We came here many long years ago, at the decree of a king. Landerson Thirdking, we are remembering him as, though maybe he was having another name we have forgotten.
“For some years we was prospering, and the Mending seemed to be coming truth. But as stone sword did not break for Landerking, so trouble did not break for our longfathers. They did be learning that these northern lands were not being empty as was being thought at first. An old enemy, the enemy that drove Whitsonking from Golden Coast, had come here. Or, perhaps, it was being from here that they first came.
“Mine longfathers did be fighting back bravely against the northwolves. But then died a Lord Tarvan who was having proud sons, and none of them was being minded to be ruled by another. They splitted the chain and medallion of their father’s lordship between them after his death. Then each did be taking the rabbits minded to follow him and did leave, settling here and there on and around the bluff.”
The chief fell silent, lost in thought. Seeing this, Sigrid took up the account. “So it is being from many years ago until now. The heirs of Tarvan did become chiefs, and their followers clans. We has been mostly at peace, if divided.
“Weddings there have been between clans, and friendship. But wars also, and mistrust. Still, for most of time we is being at peace, and united in the hardfighting against the northwolves. Only…”
Pain came into Sigrid’s face then, and Helmer could feel it himself. Though still young, he had known the pain of loss. He had seen friends and comrades die, and feared for those it was his charge to protect. He thought of his sister, and of their parents.
“Rabbits there have been, of other clans, who have made pacts with the wolves,” Chief Tarvan said. “They having made ways open for them, and told secrets that they were meant to be keeping. Some will be fighting along the sides of the wolves, or not being opposing them when they come for other clans. And some attack other clans like wolves, carrying rabbits away to…be offering them.”
“Offering them?” Hewson sounded puzzled.
Nodding grimly, Sigrid elaborated. “To the wolves. In exchange for having ‘peace’ with them. As the old stories say Grimble’s clan did be doing with the dragons in the days of Landerking.”
Helmer’s empathetic pain turned to revulsion, a churning in his gut. He’d never believed in the dragons, of course, any more than he believed in the wondrous lost realm of Terralain. But the idea that any rabbits would sacrifice their own kind to a mythical predator, never mind a real one, had always appalled him. Such wickedness must be answered, and if the perpetrators would not be moved by words, then they would be moved by swords. Helmer rested his hand on the pommel of his own sword as he had this grim thought, and noticed Sigrid watching him.
“I must be asking your forgiveness again,” she said. “We Guardians is being constantly on the watch for the foerabbits and northwolves on their raiding attacks. Not knowing who you were being, we feared you as wolf-friends. Such rabbits are having no mercy, and we are having learned to strike and drive away rather than to be speaking.”
“Understandable,” he replied with a nod. “I should have done the same in your place. King Jupiter will want to hear of this as well. I can assure you, he will not stand for such treachery.”
“Aye,” Captain Stam said with a grave nod. “His majesty should be told at once. He will no doubt be wanting to speak with ye, Chief Tarvan. With your permission, might I send some of my bucks back to our camp?”
Chief Tarvan was silent a moment, and seemed to be studying his three visitors. Helmer met his gaze with one that was, he hoped, confident but not confrontational. Finally, Tarvan turned to Sigrid, a question in his eyes. She too studied the visitors briefly, her attention lingering on Helmer, before nodding.
“So it is being,” Lord Tarvan said as he faced Stam again. “Some Guardians is being sent with your rabbits. I is hoping they will meet no trouble. And I is hoping more that your king is being worthy of having such rabbits as you is seeming in his service.”
Making arrangements for the party to leave the next morning, Sigrid accompanied Captain Stam and his lieutenants back out into the settlement. Zeiger was waiting for them there, his eyes in a squint as usual. Recognizing Sigrid, he shuffled forward with head bowed in deference. “First Guardian, the healers has been sending me with a report. Guardian Schultz* will being fitted for duty by tomorrow-no needing many days hardrest.”
“Thanks being to you, Zeiger,” Sigrid said with a kind smile. With a bow, he walked away. Stam watched him go with a thoughtful expression. As Sigrid watched, he reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a thin bar of red metal.
“Ye’ll pardon me asking, Guardian, but do ye have a glassmaker in yer settlement?”
Puzzled, Sigrid nodded and pointed. “In the crafter’s quarter, Lord Captain. One of mine rabbits can be showing you.”
Nodding his thanks, the massive rabbit followed Sigrid’s aide. Hewson, on Stam’s instructions, left with another Guardian to see to quarters for the First Warren rabbits. Most of those rabbits went with them. Quite suddenly, Sigrid found herself alone in the street with Helmer.
“It seems we’ve both been left at loose ends,” Helmer commented, obviously making the same observation. She smiled, and was gratified to see him smile back. On an impulse, she offered to show him around the settlement. Helmer agreed readily, and they began walking.
After giving Helmer a bit more background on Chief Tarvan’s residence, Sigrid pointed out various other nearby homes. These, she explained, belonged to the chief’s advisors. They were among the oldest structures in the settlement, built in the peaceful early days of the colony. More than one jealous clan has sought to dispossess Chief Tarvan’s forefathers of this original home.
The further they moved from the chief’s house, the more crowded the settlement became. With the clustered buildings came clustered rabbits, many of whom watched the two of them. Some were discreet, but others stared openly at Helmer. To his credit, he showed no signs of discomfort, or even that he noticed the staring.
From the corner of her eye, Sigrid watched her companion as well. Helmer was a tall, fit rabbit, and she had witnessed his physical prowess. Though he had journeyed far, he was well kempt and his attire and gear well-maintained. And he was, she admitted to herself, rather handsome.
His appeal was not that of the nobles, real or self-styled, that she had met in her life. Helmer had a quality about him that was rough, almost stern. Yet there was also a genuineness to him, something that made him, if not necessarily approachable, then at least on a level with those around him. It was different from the air of authority Chief Tarvan or Captain Stam exuded, and definitely different from the aloofness she had noticed in Hewson.
Sigrid’s train of thought was interrupted as Helmer caught sight of something that obviously drew his attention. Following his gaze, she found the only structure in the settlement-with the obvious exception of the wall-larger than the chief’s residence. It was just as old, if not somewhat older, but more artistic. Really, it was no wonder Helmer had paused.
“Our Votive Sanctuary,” Sigrid explained as they admired the towering edifice. “It is being the place of work for our votaries. Here also we are having namings, weddings, and funerals. And on worship days, we is being gathered here for the stories.”
“What stories?”
Blinking in surprise, Sigrid went on. “Of Firstfather, and Flint and Fay. Of the Rebellion, and of the Leaping. You is not having these stories in First Warren?”
Confusion left Helmer’s face. “Oh, we do-and elsewhere. I’ve just never thought of them like that before, I suppose. My father always called it lore. ‘Learn your lore, children,’ he was always telling me and my sister, Airen.”
“You is having others of the siblings? Or just Airen?”
“Just her-and believe me, she’s plenty.” Seeing her amused look, he half smiled. “Airen can be a bit…ornery. I honestly don’t know how our friend Snoden puts up with her. What about you-any siblings?”
“I am being the third of five. Mine eldest brother and sister are being married, but mine younger brother and sister are still being at home. Perhaps I can be introducing you to them. And mine parents, too.”
Nodding, Helmer smiled more fully. “I’d like that.”
The pair walked on, Sigrid continuing to point out various landmarks. Among these were a library, a school, and the crafter’s quarter she had directed Captain Stam to. Finally, she brought Helmer to the quarters that had been set aside for the First Warren rabbits. They arrived just as Captain Stam did, though he only exchanged a brief word before heading inside.
As Sigrid turned to leave, Helmer cleared his throat. “Guardian…I wonder if you’d like to accompany us back to the king’s camp tomorrow. I would be glad of your sword. And…it would be my honor to introduce you to King Jupiter.”
“Lieutenant…it would be being mine pleasure. And please…you must be calling me Sigrid.”
“Only if you call me Helmer.”
“Very good then…Helmer.”
“Until tomorrow…Sigrid.”
To be continued...
*A little reference to Hogan’s Heroes, in honor of my fellow fan bluefalcon5433 over on The Story Warren Discord.