Interlude 13: Hospitality

Avvarian Folk Tale

Once there was a strong clan that frequented the upper crags following their flocks. Their goats fared well and they often had more than they needed. Life in the upper ranges could be very hard and everyone relied heavily on one another for survival. To be separated from the clan was a death sentence for none could survive long alone without the fires of their family.

This clan had a very strong and harsh chieftain. He demanded complete obedience from all in the clan. To go against him would result in either execution or banishment. None dared to challenge him and all minded their tongues when he was near.

Late in the autumn, the clan migrated to one of their lower holds in a valley in order to bed their animals for the duration of the winter. They had taken pains to store mosses there that they gathered and dried during the course of the year on their sojourns, making frequent visits to the area in order to secure their winter stores. This preparation enabled them to weather the winters with little worry of running low of food for either themselves or their animals.

One year, as the clan travelled to the winter hold, some of the women foraging for mountain herbs came across two men, one old and stooped while the other one was young and tall. The two men hailed the women and asked to be brought before the chieftain. The women were wary but did as the strangers requested, bringing them before the chieftain who looked at the two men with a sour countenance.

"Please," the older man addressed the chieftain, "our clan was wiped out by a rival clan. We barely managed to escape with our lives. We ask to be allowed to join with your clan and winter with you. You will find us most helpful."

The chieftain shook his head and dismissed them with a wave of his hand, "You are old and can offer no strength to aid us. Your son might be young, but he could be clumsy with our animals. We must worry for ourselves and have no extra provisions for winter to care for the added burden of your needs."

The young man stepped forward, "Do not dismiss us hastily. We can offer you wisdom and aid that may surprise you. At least give us provision for one night."

The chieftain shook his head and refused to acknowledge the two men further. He brusquely walked away and went to see to his animals.

However, near at hand was the chieftain's daughter who was as compassionate as her father was harsh. She approached the two men when all had departed and spoke gently to them, "I can make provision for you, even from my own father's supplies and he will be none the wiser for he takes no account of what is in our stores since it is my responsibility. At the edge of the camp, between the two tallest fir trees, I will wrap some food and tools in a bearskin to care for your immediate needs. Follow our clan at a safe distance until we reach the winter hold. Look for me by the small river shortly after we arrive and I shall make further arrangements for you."

The two men blessed her and agreed to follow her instructions, disappearing into the woods. As promised, the girl provided for their needs for the journey and the men followed the clan at a safe distance, careful not to alert any to their presence. After two days journey the clan arrived at the winter hold.

Once again, the girl was true to her word. As twilight fell, she went to the river and signaled for the two men. When they came, she led them to a small cave hidden in a part of the valley not far from the goat pens. The cave offered shelter and she had arranged for blankets, firewood and some rude furnishings to make the men comfortable during the long winter months. She promised that she would bring food for them once a week from her own father's stores, reassuring them that it would be no hardship on her father's table. To supplement their food, the men would be able to hunt game on the far side of the valley away from the hold.

The two men thanked her again and she took their leave of them, promising to come back in a week's time.

The winter began and the chieftain remained unaware of his clan's unwelcome guests. Every week the chieftain's daughter brought food for the two men and even washed their clothes in the river with her own so they would not risk discovery. The men were quite grateful for her goodwill and often asked if there was anything they could do in return for her kindness, to which she would refuse graciously. The girl found the company of the men pleasant and would sit and talk with them of her clan and ask questions of the mountains during the evenings that she delivered their provisions. As time went by she became slightly enamored with the young man, but was careful to say nothing since her father had to approve her marriage and he would never accept a clanless man with no prospects. She allowed herself to enjoy their presence without requiring any recompense beyond.

Two months into winter, a sickness descended upon the goats. They became ill and refused to be milked. The clan became greatly worried and fear that the illness would kill the stock and leave them with no provision for the remainder of the cold season made them turn to the chieftain for reassurance. The chieftain became very tight fisted and began to watch the stores more carefully, making it difficult for his daughter to sneak supplies to her guests in the cave.

One night, when the daughter came to the men with the weekly provisions, she was able to only bring half of what she knew they needed. Her father had begun to ask questions and she had only been able to bring what she herself had spared from her meals at the table, hiding the food in her tunic rather than eating it herself. She was quite hungry, but knew that the two men would starve if she brought them nothing.

The old man saw her first when she walked through the mouth of the cavern and observed, "Child, you look wan and weary. What burden is it that you bear?"

The chieftain's daughter apologized, presenting the men with the food she had been able to spare, and explained about the illness among the animals and her father's sudden concern with the food stores.

The old man listened intently and nodded his head thoughtfully before comforting her, "I am aware of the type of illness that is afflicting your goats. It is one that plagued my own clan many winters ago and we managed to devise a treatment that saved our animals and even made them produce more milk and the females will bear more young come spring. I will concoct this remedy and you can administer it secretly to the goats in their pens during an evening. It is the least I can do to repay all of your kindness to us."

With that, the old man gathered some herbs that he had tucked away in a bag that he carried with him, muttering things over his breath as he ground up the ingredients with a mortar and pestle. When it had been ground, he boiled it in water over his cooking fire, poured it into a skin and put a stopper in the top. He handed it to the chieftain's daughter and instructed her to put it in the goat's drinking water. The girl accepted it gratefully and quickly took her leave of them before her father missed her.

The girl did as the man instructed and the goats miraculously recovered. The clan rejoiced that the danger had appeared to have passed and the chieftain went back to his ignorant complacency. The daughter was able to return to her routine of bringing supplies to the two men in the cave for many more weeks.

Later that same winter, a pack of starved wolves began to worry the clan. The beasts stalked among the trees, watching from the shadows with glowing yellow eyes and attacked the goat pens many times, preying on some of the weaker animals. The people became worried again and turned to the chieftain. The chieftain became stricter with the clan member's movements. None were allowed out after twilight for fear they would be attacked by the desperate animals.

This turn of fate prevented the girl from stealing away in the darkness and she had a difficult time escaping from her chores in order to bring the provisions that the men required. She constantly had to look over her shoulder and worried that her father would catch her unaware.

One afternoon, she stole away when she was supposed to be washing clothes at the river. She followed her path and brought the food as she had promised. When she came through the mouth of the cavern, the young man was the first to see her and he hailed her, "Greetings maiden, you are early and out of breath. What is it that pursues you?"

The chieftain's daughter apologized, presenting the food to him and explaining about the problem of the wolves and her father's edict forbidding her from leaving their home after twilight.

The young man nodded and reassured her, "We had problems with wolves during the winter. This pack must be having difficulty finding other game in these long winter months and have become desperate enough to attack your livestock. When it became a problem, our clan found a way to lure the wolves away to another place where they could hunt in peace and not bother us. I shall go out tonight and see if I can do this for you. It is the least I can do to repay all of your kindness to us. Be at ease."

The girl looked into the young man's eyes and saw that he was in earnest. She thanked him profusely and quickly returned to her chores before her father could discover she was missing.

The young man did as he promised and after that night, the wolves no longer stalked the winter hold. The clan rejoiced in the realization that the pack had moved on and the chieftain again relaxed his strict hold over his household, unaware of what had actually taken place.

No secret can be held forever, eventually someone will discover it. One night, when the girl stole away to deliver the provisions to the two men, he mother caught sight of her. Fearing for the girl's safety, the woman followed her and discovered the cave that housed the two men. She listened outside as the girl exchanged pleasantries and spoke with the men. The woman returned to her winter hut before her daughter exited the cave and did not mention it to her husband; for fear that he would punish the daughter severely.

The mother held her peace for many weeks, realizing that her daughter had done this act of disobedience out of the kindness in her heart and found no fault with her. She began to notice that her daughter smiled more and assumed that the daughter had fallen in love with the young man, since he was quite handsome and well formed. The mother began to sew a dowry for her daughter in hopes that the girl might be married come spring.

One evening, the chieftain noticed his wife humming to herself in the corner while she worked and asked absently why she was so happy. The woman, without thinking, said directly that she was sewing a dowry for their daughter's wedding in the spring.

The chieftain demanded why their daughter would be married without his consent. The woman realized her mistake and stuttered that she only assumed the girl would be married in the spring for she was of age and had grown quite beautiful. The chieftain became very suspicious after that and watched his daughter more carefully.

One night, he noticed that his daughter seemed quiet and, when his wife went to bed, he stayed awake to keep watch. The daughter, carrying something wrapped in an animal skin, snuck from the hut when all was quiet. He followed her to the edge of the village and discovered the cave just as his daughter stole inside.

He listened outside as his daughter exchanged pleasantries with the two men. When the chieftain peeked through the entrance, he recognized the two men as the ones he had turned away many months prior and realized that his daughter had disobeyed him. He left the cave, gathered a group of his strongest men and returned just as his daughter was taking her leave of her guests.

The chieftain had the men he had gathered drive the interlopers from the cave along with his daughter. They were conveyed to the clan's meeting place at the center of the winter hold. All were awakened to witness the chieftain's judgment upon his daughter and the two strangers.

The angry chieftain turned to his daughter and bellowed, "You have stolen food from my mouth and given it to these strangers. You have disregarded my decision that these men should not be carried by us." Then he turned angrily to the two men, "You are no better than thieves and scavengers. You have preyed upon us as surely as wolves."

The girl spoke up, appealing to her father, "These men have helped our village during their time here. The old man made a cure for our goats' ailment that would surely have wiped them out and left us starving. The younger man intervened with the wolves and lured them away so that they would not threaten us. They have both served us in ways we could not serve ourselves. Please, Father, be reasonable. They have earned a place among us." She bowed her head slightly as she continued, "If you insist upon punishment, Father, then let the brunt of it fall upon me. I made the decision to disobey you and I am culpable."

The chieftain was so angry, that he spoke without considering his daughter's words, "I am no longer your father. You are no longer my child. It were better that I should die childless than suffer a snake in my hut. You are banished. You are dead to me."

With those words the old man stepped forward and raised his hands high above his head. The mountains rumbled about them and caused all present to become silent and still. The old man scowled at the chieftain and before their very eyes his false form dropped away. His stooped figure straightened, his cloudy eyes cleared, his gray hair became aflame with red. He beckoned the young man to step forward. The young man became even taller, his muscles rippled and his eyes blazed a bright green that flashed with anger. All the people cowered back, including the rash and angry chieftain and his meek daughter.

"I have heard enough," boomed the once old man, he turned and pointed an accusing finger at the chieftain, "I am Korth, the Mountain-Father. You have denied me hospitality, even though you have lived off of my hospitality for many years here in my mountains. You have been sheltered on my land and never once acknowledged me. For that I should have stretched a hand of wrath against you, but your daughter's kindness made me withhold my judgment and for her sake I spared your life. You have also withheld hospitality from my brother, Hakkon Wintersbreath, but for the love of your daughter he relented from freezing your huts in harsh winds. Now you have banished her for showing kindness to us, an evil we cannot overlook. I claim her as a sister and my brother claims her as a bride. She will ever be a part of my clan and shall want for nothing."

With that, Hakkon stepped forward, embraced the maiden and carried her off, flying away on a gust of snowy wind. The clan watched with mouths agape and eyes wide, unable to move and afraid to breathe, but the Mountain-Father was not through venting his ire and he spoke again to the chieftain, "Now, for your punishment...you shall also be my guest. There is a mountain range far from here where you will live. You will wander its crags in the cold, alone. Never again will you know the warmth of a hearth for you rejected your daughter's warmth in your display of pride. However, I will not allow harm to come to you. I shall provide for you provisions necessary for your survival every week and shall prevent all illness from plaguing you. There you will remain until the mountains are no more."

At that invocation, the Mountain-Father placed a hand on the chieftain's shoulder and they disappeared, leaving the clan bewildered in the winter hold. Eventually they returned to their huts. They chose a new chieftain that spring and followed him, but they never forgot their previous chieftain or his daughter. They had no doubt that the daughter was living happily among the gods just as they had no doubt that the harsh chieftain lived in the mountains far away, separate from them forever. They knew all this for it was spoken by a god, and no one questions the words of a god.