Chapter 29

"Nobility"

The cub was screaming again. I opened my eyes. Half of my face was in the snow which made the motion slow and painful. The cub stood with his back to me, arms and claws outstretched. They were tiny little things. Threats only to worms and grubs and maybe a few small rats and snakes. Yet they stopped all three bears when he threw them up. A forceful scowl replaced the tears on the cub's face as he looked between those towering pillars of muscle looming over us. I did not remember when I lost consciousness or which bear hit me to make it so. Only that my shield and coat could not keep up with the barrage of Berserker strikes that put me off my paws more often than I was on them.

My whole body hurt. My head pounded. I tasted blood in my mouth. My vision returned unsteadily. Laid out on the ground, I only had one eye to look up with. Six bears stared back until the doubles blended back into the originals. The three bears lowered their arms and stepped back so that their shadows no longer covered us. It was bright without them. Too bright. I winked my eye and blinked as the cub turned to me, smiling. I tried to get up and immediately lost my senses to a whirlwind of dizziness. Everything went dark again. One critical strike from a bear was strong enough for twice the knockout.

When I finally came to, the world was in motion, but not by my own making. I was being carried by one of the Ring Bears under their arm. It was difficult to breath and my legs were going numb. Struggling without knowing my circumstances would give me away, so I continued to dangle as if still asleep. One of the bears walked ahead of us. The other, behind. The three walked single file through the snow. The first carved out a path with their bulk to clear the way for the others. I was not dead, nor in the process of being devoured. It was a good sign. But Ring Bears were not known for their generosity or taking prisoners. If they did, those captives were either interrogated to death or had their blood painted on cavern walls.

Wherever these bears were taking me, it was not anywhere good. I would get one chance to escape. Then, they would know me awake. I watched the woods, waiting for my moment when the terrain was in my favor. At the right step, I dropped a domain of darkness out around me, forcing the line to a stop. As thick as the domain was, they could not see the nearest trees around them. A pulse pushed the bear's arm out enough for me to slip free. I hit the snow and prepared to vanish into the shadow world I created, but a weight dropped down on to my shoulders from above. The accompanying cry paralyzed me. It was the cub. He had jumped from his perch on the larger bear's shoulder to mine. He fell out of my mane and landed in the snow beside me.

I hesitated, watching a few more seconds to make sure he was not hurt. The other bears immediately surrounded us and the window of opportunity vanished in my stead. I stared at the cub, relinquishing my freedom. The wild would not have me abandon him just yet. I sighed, dropping the tension in my shoulders, releasing my domain, and lowering my tail. The bears curiously looked around as the light returned. I did not have the energy to go up against them again. I glanced at each of them instead. They tensed with an unnecessary intimidation. Their paws and arms and sides were matted with drool and blood. They breathed heavily even at a standstill.

They did not come out of our battle unscathed. Yet they still had the advantage. I was no fool to test them. Nor was I so prideful to stand above my place as their captive. Not that I knew what it meant to be surrounded by three bears and a cub that came over and hugged my leg. The surrounding bears grunted and glanced between one another as he did so. Were they insulted? Annoyed? The cub climbed up on my back and sat within my mane just as he had done when we first met. Two of the bears looked away in a huff.

Ah, jealousy then.

But why harbor such feelings against an old Mighty Hena? Maybe it was not about me at all. I glanced between the bears again. They were all female with strong outer rings on their chests, a faded smaller inner ring and spiky shoulder cuffs. They were robust adults, fiercely devoted to a single cub. A cub that could not be their own because of the crescent mark that colored his head like a crown. I tried to connect the pieces…

A single male cub, crowned and protected by a special guard. He could not be an ordinary cub. More likely the progeny of a bloodline that lay claim to these mountains for many a generation. This was bear country and bear country was ruled by a single male bear. From what Alpha of the Forests told me at Castle Rock, the most recent ruler had died, leaving behind a single male cub. The one and only successor marked at birth by a crown on his head. The cub riding on my back was the successor of an empire. None other than the soon to be King Bear himself. Ruler of all bears across this mountain. My eyes widened with the realization that I had thrown the hatchling of a High Spirit around in the snow like a piece of sinew and bone. No wonder these three female bears were so strong. They were the elite guard of their most treasured kinsman.

But where was his mother, the reigning queen?

My surprise settled as the pieces finally fit together. The fury of the three bears, the cub's fear, the fight in all of them. The cub's mother did not come to his rescue because the assassins made it impossible. Killing the Queen Bear was the only way they could even attempt to kill her cub. The tears this little cub shed were not for himself. He snuggled up in my mane, preferring its cover and comfort over the back and shoulders of his own kind. He latched onto me because he knew a Mother when he saw one. He imprinted on me in his grief and distress because I was the creature that not only saved him but caught his mother's killers. But I could never be what he needed. A Mighty Hena could not raise a bear, but I could not let the pending pity of his future heartbreak distract me.

My own situation was precarious enough.

The three guardian bears changed their position into a formation that resembled my own pack's confinement strategy, but Ring Bears did not fight like Mighty Hena. For them, this arrangement was a way of protecting their King Bear. They grunted and moved their arms, shifting as I did, pushing me with their presence in the direction we were originally headed. I could use a pulse to blow them out enough to slip through their legs and disappear into the woods faster than they could catch me, but then I would become a true kidnapper. Taking the cub away from his caretakers defeated my purpose. I could throw him off later. The guards would quickly locate his wailing, but he did not cling to me with just his claws.

The Spirit tied us together so strongly, I felt as if he were stitched to my back. I had no choice but to follow the guards prompting and climb the mountain with them. They escorted me deep into the heart of bear country with much fanfare and presence. It was much too weighty a display for my liking. Shadows preferred secrets. Bears were much more brash and raw. Their size and innate ferocity needed no other adornment. Thus, creatures kept clear of our path. Birds fluttered about in the trees. Others skittered across tree trunks and rocks. Once or twice, my ears flicked, the Spirit slid ever so slightly, and the pressure of the shadows changed. The darkness was no longer empty.

Hena were in these woods.

With the bears' hibernation so wrongly disturbed, the whole mountain was in motion, both day and night. It gossiped as the bears spirited me away. I carried the cub the entire journey, so when we arrived at their gathering place, I was neither afraid nor intimidated. This cub had chosen me, therefore, I was protected and he was Mine. As we drew closer, many Ring Bears came forward to line our path, stopping abruptly to snarl or grunt or bat at the ground with grumblings when they saw me. One rose up to berate me. The closest guard roughly put them on the ground again. I ignored all of their jeers and threats and disrespectful stares.

We Mighty Hena were no friend to the bears. We were competitors which made relations difficult. And for a single Mighty Hena to carry their precious King Bear on its back made him seem more hostage than hatchling. And me, either a mule or a desperate dog negotiating for her life. I bristled lightly. Such thoughts were great insults to a Mother. The wild around us stirred. Branches rustled. Snowflakes twirled. A breeze combed through the trees and several birds took flight. The bears around us started pacing and stomping. They looked at me, believing me to be the cause. I kept a Mother's composure with light and steady steps. Quiet, but not mischievous. Unfazed by the daylight in which we walked. Tail at level height. Ears and head forward.

I glanced up into the snow laden canopy of hibernating hardwoods and ever resilient conifers. The Spirit was alive in this place. It moved for me, showing me where I was and what I was about to face. We walked up to the largest cave entrance I ever saw. Claws of generations upon generations of bears had carved it out of the mountain. Blocky bear shaped structures flanked either side. Many tracks flattened the ground in front of it. The surrounding trees were stubs of their former selves, felled from many a battle. Melting snow trickled down the sides of the rocks which caused them to glisten. Moss and lichen likely grew around the cave mouth like fur in spring. Two carefully placed boulders slanted the mountain face with a furrowed brow and a particularly curious placement of bushes rounded the top like ears.

Like Castle Rock, this was a place of power. A faraway growl echoed around me as I approached. I resisted barring my teeth back at it. The bear's High Spirit was trying to intimidate me. I would not tease it into chasing shadows. It could roar and growl all it wanted for the only thing that mattered to a Mighty Hena were teeth. This was not my home, nor the grasslands, nor the circumstances for such bickering. I had a feeling this High Spirit was about to put me to the test, so I would not pretend to be anything other than myself. They would see me for who I am.

Mother the Mighty Hena.

We walked into the darkness of the cave. There was plenty of room to spare as the entrance opened up into a wide cave big enough to seat many bears around its rim. A large hole was carved out of the top so that a thick beam of light spotlighted the center. It provided illumination to the farthest corners. The cave itself was bare except for a raised rock platform in the center that was big enough to be considered a ring. Bears accepted challenges at any time and place. The only rules were that they had to be one on one, in front of others, and fought with the weapons they carried within themselves. Teeth and claws and hide. There was nothing to throw or use to one's advantage here other than the Spirit.

And it was strong.

I glanced around at the walls of the cave. A great many pictures and symbols and marks decorated the inside in either black or red or brown tones. Some were crude, but powerful. Others, delicate and finely shaped. The stories whispered to me, too soft to make out clearly, built upon one another like the paintings. I almost forgot the current inhabitants while trying to listen to their history. A great brown Ring Bear sauntered up from the back on two legs as we approached. The few other bears moved towards the walls. Snow lightly trickled down from the opening in the ceiling ahead of him.

"What's this?" the bear demanded, always yelling, looking directly at me. "What have you brought?"

The guards glanced between one another. The rearmost left the cave.

"We found him," the foremost guard answered, turning back to look at me.

She grunted with a show of her lip, indicating I should come forward. They had no clue I understood their language. It was rough and brash and guttural, but not unlike the Mighty Hena. Just heavily accented. Like the Rock Giants, bears communicated with more expression than words. It was a reason for their art. Their paws and claws were their most dangerous yet delicate tools. In the presence of so many bears, I obeyed, stopping outside of the ring. Another grunt of a roar put me on the platform for display. Gasps and different types of whispers filled the cave. Not all could distinguish me from the darkness. The light revealed me and the cub I carried. He was nervous, twirling my hair in his paws instead of sticking them in his mouth. As King Bear, he could not show weakness in his own cave, but he was still a hatchling. A cub who just lost his Mother, was kidnapped, kept awake by the winter, and brought immediately into the spotlight. He was still mourning. But the ebb and flow of power was neither patient nor comforting.

"You're Majesty," the bigger bear said, coming forward toward the platform. "King Bear."

My Cub twisted my mane a little faster. The approaching bear looked us over, smelling the air around us. His paws were calloused and claws brandished. For me or My Cub, I could not tell. Male bears cared not for the cubs of others no matter who they were. I narrowed my gaze. The bear laughed and his mockery echoed around the cave.

"To think we worried, and here you come, riding in on the back of a devil dog!"

He was well spoken for a bear. Probably one of great rank to be able to meet us first like this. His words reminded me of Mountain Cats. The two species interacted frequently in the mountains. He must have spent much time with them as a negotiator. He even used the same derogatory words. I pressed my teeth together, remaining very still. Holding back my bite.

"Come down from there," he ordered of the cub. "Or you might catch it's fleas."

My Cub did not move. The guards stood a little stiffer. To command the King Bear made this other bear some type of advisor. A figure of influence and power. He looked down at the cub a little harder.

"Get off," he said, no longer laughing. "Queen Bear is dead. There is much to do."

My Cub yanked my fur. I felt it from the guards too. Those who had been closest to his mother, Queen Bear. They had rituals for mourning and this advisor thought himself above them. He was no friend of the Spirit. I folded my ears. I did not look away from this threat, so I could not be sure, but the pictures on the walls started moving ever so slightly. Growing annoyed, the bear stepped toward the platform. He thought himself a great pillar of power. A rising foundation for this country. But he was crumbled and rotten and slippery. He moved to come up on the platform with me, to take the King Bear under his shadow.

A low rumbling growl pooled in my throat. The ground lightly shook with it and the shadows at the very back of the cave deepened, highlighting the spotlight on us as if the light did not extend beyond the single beam. The male bear froze. All of them did, stiffening with the audacity of a dog that had issued a challenge from within their sacred ring. I was no bear, but I knew what I had done and I did it with such purpose none could interpret it as a mistake. If that bear set a single paw within the ring, I would fight him to the death. If this were the pack, I would have already started the attack for his rank. The bear lifted in fury. His eyes widened. He pulled his lips back. The cave tightened with silence.

Another bear suddenly broke it with a roar that shook the walls even harder than I did. It came from the entrance. All of the bears recognized it with a single unanimous flinch. I pressed my ears to my head, tightening my muscles to keep my bones from rattling as the ground shook with bounding leaps that brought the biggest and oldest bear I had ever seen barreling into the cave with the force of a herd of Touring Bulls. Her fur was grey. Her face, scarred. One eye was a cloudy white and a small part of her ear and lip were missing. Her Spirit blasted out, pushing me forward, the male back, My Cub into my mane, and the others against the wall. She was flanked by two smaller male Ring Bears. The guard who left upon our arrival brought up the rear. Her two sisters cleared the way for the group. Smirks flashed across their faces.

"You fools!" the old grey bear shouted, reprimanding all in attendance. "What have you done?! What have you brought into our sanctum?"

The male who faced my challenge awkwardly hobbled around the outside of the ring to the side so that he could be seen clearly by her.

"The King Bear has returned," he announced as if he walked us in himself.

"Not him!" the old bear snarled, shaking snow from the opening.

The male's lip curled. His eyes darted to the side, unwilling to acknowledge a mistake.

"It's just one ratty old dog," he muttered, refusing to look at her or me.

The old bear roared again and charged him in rebuke. He hurried away, dropping to all fours with a humiliating shudder of his flanks. No one laughed because they would do the same.

"Fools!" she screamed again. "Idiots! This is no mutt!"

She then whirled toward the platform, cloudy eye aimed straight at me.

"But a monster!"

Her Spirit collided with mine and a burst of hurricane force winds spiraled out from the platform, throwing up ancient dust from the cracks in the rocks, stripping away old moss and slapping away all sound but the rush of wind. The energy vanished just as quickly as it came and the resulting silence made it seem as if none existed but the old bear and I. She stood at the edge of the light, looking up at me, capturing the sight of me standing alone in the middle of the ring under the concentrated light of day as though I stood even higher than the bears on two feet.

They all saw a Mighty Hena with a grey face and small stature. The old bear saw a Hena twice in size, black in body, burning hotly with shadow. Its eyes were two red rings, hallowed and piercing and promising blood. Its expression was perpetually caught in a snarl because the shadows had burned away the flesh of its lips to the bone. My reflection filled her eyes. It was only one side of the story. One side of the moon. The only side creatures saw of the Mighty Hena. She saw a devil dog wielding the shadow of death.

"Out!" the old bear roared, spittle flying, front legs pounding down on the stone. "OUT!"

The vibrations caused the markings on the wall to shudder, and when the old bear's paws pounded the stone, the marks dropped off of the walls entirely. Suddenly, there were a great many creatures around us. Stories and letters and words come to life. All in a strange unknown black alphabetical design. They swirled around us, eyes turned inward to watch the history currently in the making. The old bear's Spirit had summoned them. They clashed with the voices of the other bears who began shouting and roaring with their own opinions on the matter. Most upset by all of these creatures here together all at once.

A strange wind picked up around us, whirling around the walls of the cave. I winked an eye against the sharp wind, very aware that I was surrounded. With the wind and commotion, I heard nothing but chaos. If screaming and shouting were the only ways to grab the bears' attention, then I would do so in true Mighty Hena fashion. I threw back my head and howled. Unlike the roars of the bears that bounced against the walls to gain momentum, my voice spiraled around me, tightening into a geyser that surged out of the hole in the ceiling, pulling out all of the rage and politics and prejudice with it. The wind died down and the bears turned their heads upwards, watching it all leave without understanding what it was they actually felt since the forces were invisible.

The old bear's face slackened and the swirl of mysterious unknown creatures slowed to tranquil speeds. Some twirled. Others spun. One by one, the living symbols returned to the wall, sticking to its face and flattening back into paint. My howl ended. I blinked up at the bright daylight reflecting off of the snow rimmed hole above me. White snowflakes continued to flutter down around me. Having stolen the bears' voices, silence filled the cave. I lowered my head. My Cub coughed, throat sore from joining in and trying to match my howl. He reached out with his oversized clumsy paws to catch the snowflakes that drifted near him. His troubles immediately forgotten. It was how a cub should be. I looked back at him and smiled gently. He caught my eye, smiled back, and cried as cubs often do.

This cave was a very special place and not just for bears.

I could tell Mighty Hena once gathered here by the way the light came down into the cave and how the sound of my howl was so easily directed to the heavens. Why we left, I do not know, but I did know why I had to now. These pushy impatient bears had a point. There was a time and a place for every story, and right now, it was not about me but My Cub, and this country greatly troubled by his absence. He understood as much by the look I gave him. He must listen and respect his elders, no matter how much they screamed. My Cub mustered up his courage and carefully climbed down off of my back. He then stood beside me and looked up. I looked down, forcing him to keep his chin up. His eyes glimmered a moment. I then nodded in the direction of the guards.

Them, I could trust. Crossing claws told me enough.

My Cub puffed out his chest, turned to his comrades, and stomped toward the old bear. His three guards immediately came to his sides, proudly falling into place to escort him to and through his kingship for the rest of their lives. Now that the King Bear commanded a private audience with the old bear, a great many bodies began moving. They were big heavy frames that were hard to see around and easily created shadows underneath. The old bear craned her neck and looked for me on the platform, but it was empty. I had already hopped off and started walking for the cave exit. She wanted me out, so I would leave, but my sudden disappearance might cause another uproar just as loud as the first, so I stopped to look back and waited until the old bear spotted me. I was too far to see the reflection in her eyes this time.

"Quickly," she whispered to her attendants. "Take her to the other."

She meant to whisk me away before anything else could happen. Her two attending bears hurried over. I started walking again and they came up, one on either side of me. They were smaller and dropped to all fours because walking on two had special meaning in their culture. Plus, it was harder to escape with their claws and arms and teeth that much closer. I briefly glanced at them in Spirit. They were like the old bear, but smaller, less intense. Learners by nature. Which likely made them apprentices of some sort. They reminded me of Omega, so I could not help but extend my shadow to them. Feeling it, they glanced at one another above my head. Neither grunted or growled or flared their lips at it. They simply kept pace. They need not worry of escape. My Cub was not rid of me yet. The Spirit showed me that the Mighty Hena still had power in bear country.

How much, I would find out soon enough.