A Pig's Tale (by Robin Kaspar)

The three sisters of Darkness, Cold, and Anxiety were three added guests in the cave that Tob had found to shelter the pilgrims from the storm. Tomiak would have to wait until the storm passed. If the storm lasted too long, Tomiak would wait forever, and the cave would be a tomb. There was Darkness, because wasted fuel for light might be precious in a few days time, and there was nothing to look at now except each other and the cold cave. There was Cold, because there was no firewood to be spared, and only blankets and close company to keep folks warm. Anxiety never stayed far from her sisters. She was always happy to sneak into any party where they were invited.

To keep the three sisters quiet, one could only hope to talk over them, to sing and chat and play word games, to dream aloud and to tell stories. After a day, even Giacomo's tales were nigh exhausted, at least all of those that made no reference to starvation, freezing, cannibalism, ghosts, or being eaten by bears. In the pause that followed, the sisters made their rounds, whispering fear and despair, chilling bones and scaring the hell out of the little children that hide behind the thoughts and faces of adults. Close on their heels, eager to silence them for a bit longer, Li-eira made an appeal that had become all too frequent, in some opinions.

The darkness of the cave was more oppressive than the pathmage could bear, and when silence accompanied the darkness her nervous prattle would fill the empty space. "Tob...will you tell us the story of the time you and Janus went looking for the Direwolf and found the pig?" When he didn't reply right away she continued, "The big pig that could crush a man's bones?"

"All right gal, all right," Tob replied. "If only to give Giacomo a break and make you all see how good he is. Forgive me, Janus, and correct me where I stray too far from memory. A amn can get lost in a tale when the telling makes him look good." He paused, cleared his throat, and began.

It was years and years ago, over a decade. I think it was Janus's tenth summer, I think, so I was nearing fourteen. We were two young heroes of our little corner of Derugar, with very high hopes and little else to recommend us. Well, to recommend me, anyhow - Janus was already under Goentryx's tutelage, and doing mighty well at it, as you might well expect. I was old enough to be more useful than I was, but I had a lot of wild left in me, and dreams of heroics. I dreamed of impressing a girl or two as well, and shared those dreams with little Janus over there more often than a man should. Got us in it hip deep, it did.

There was a monster on the loose - livestock pens were being busted up and cattle and goats were roaming the woods. Made for a lot of arguing over whose goat ate whose corn, like that. They decided to call it a monster and not a big dog when they found Wallace's dog at the tree-line. He was the biggest hound I'd ever saw, and so mean the poor farmer had to beat it with a log to make it let go of a rabbit or woodchuck it was just supposed to bring back. Janus, you remember the scar Darien had on his ass from that dog? Mean dog, dead as a stump. Bad dead, too. The dog was half eaten, and some of the bones were bitten clean off. After that, folks were locking up their barns and houses at sunset, keeping all the stock inside at night like it was winter. On a hot summer night, that's death for chickens and sheep, and real bad for everybody else.

So, we little fools decided to bring this beast down, for honor, for glory and for Mellie and Lucia, farmer Wallace's two daughters.

"We'll get the critter that killed your dog," I said.

"You're both crazy," Mellie said. She was always a little hard to impress.

Lucia just smiled at Janus and hid, the way she always did back then. Sweet little thing, now that I look back on it. Back then I thought she was just flighty and a little fay.

Tob paused and sighed, bathing in memory's cool stream. Out of sight of almost everyone, he reached a hand over and gently touched Janus's shoulder.

So, we two young fools plotted together to hunt the wild beast. Men were talking about a mad bear or a lone dire wolf, and we ate it up. We were so sure we could catch and kill whatever it was, but we knew enough not to tell our folks. I expect now that Goentryx knew all along, but what can I say? Kids.

I set a springline in the woods, that's where you bend over a sapling and stake it down with a snare on the end. You bait the snare and when it gets tripped the sapling shoots upright and holds whatever you wanted 'til you get back, hung up like a summer ham. Whatever you wanted, or whatever you caught. If you caught a badger life could get a little interesting. But we weren't after a badger, friends, no, we were after a "dire wolf." We were pretty sure this little trap would work, but I wanted to be sure. I took the best line my father had that night, and I swear I still feel the beating I took for it now. But it made a damn good snare.

There we were, two kids in the woods at night, in the rain, waiting for a monster. Now, it had been raining for days, everything was mud, ankle deep even in the woods, it was the highest I ever saw the Eld. There were deep, muddy ruts and tracks everywhere that made it easy enough to tell where anything large had been going in the woods for any boy who cared to look, so we knew right where to spring our little trap. I was waiting with my bow and a few arrows, Janus had ... hell I don't remember a sharp stick or something, he was ten, it felt right brave it did, and that was all that counted then, since we didn't have enough brains between us to tan a hat. My bow! Don't think I had the good weapon or anything, it didn't draw two stone. I remember I once shot a trout with it, bow fishing, you know, and the arrow I swear by the trees it bounced off the frigging fish!

Where was I? Oh yes, the woods. Ankle deep in mud, rain dripping down our heads, waiting and shivering in the dark. Janus was only ten, but he didn't whine a pip, just sat there watching, wide eyed and waiting. He was like he is now, more at home in the woods than I am, and nobody's like that. The woods are my kingdom, but they're his blood, they always were, even back then. It was black as pitch, raining like Beldram's p - like standing on the river bottom, and we couldn't see an inch.

But we heard it, eventually, it felt like a year, but it was more likely no more than an hour or two. We heard this thing charging, rampaging through the woods, knocking over small trees, I swear it sounded like an two ogres - dancing. It kept getting closer, and louder, and eventually I could see this shape, this huge shadow, pushing through the woods. It knocked over a pine as thick as my leg is now, and I was too wet already to know weather I wet myself, but by then I was getting a bit tense. Scared us both witless. It was five feet at the shoulder, and broad, and black, and it stank, and I couldn't tell how long it was.

Then I heard my springline go tight, and I saw the sapling try to stand up again, but of course it couldn't, could it? One fourteen summer's boy can only pull down so much tree, and that tree can only lift so much monster. I heard it tug a little against the line, and then a lot harder, and then it started this terrible screaming, loud as a loon and about ten feet from us. We both jumped out of our skin and we were about to run away, but something stopped us. Maybe it was childish pride, maybe it's the bravery in our Derugarian blood, maybe it was the idea of having to tell a farmer's daughter we'd run like a couple of old women.

The beast couldn't go anywhere, the line was too strong. It was the strongest line my father had, as I said. So we started to circle around to get a better look at it. I had my bow ready, and Janus had his pointed stick out in front him. The tip of it was shaking, but he was still going on. When we got close enough to see it, face to face, it was the biggest wild boar I'd ever seen before or since. Huge, black as pitch, with great huge tusks and eyes shining with hate, bellowing furiously, hungry for blood. ... At least, that's what I saw.

A little while later, while I was trying to take aim on this struggling, wailing creature, I figured out what I was seeing. A big, muddy farm pig, drooling and slobbering. A man can't kill a neighbor's pig and not pay for it, and sometimes pay for it with life. So, we'd caught a farmer's pig, rampaging through the forests in the rain, and we had no idea what to do next. The pig was panicking because it couldn't go any further, but more than that there was something wrong with it. She was drooling and slobbering, like she was mad. We should have gotten out of there, but my father's line was around her leg, and we didn't know if she was mad or just angry.

Since we were kids, we decided the thing to do was let her go. Janus talked to her at the front end, while I snuck around back to where the line was, and she had it tight as a bowstring. I don't know what he said, what sweet nothings he whispered into that sow's ear, but she calmed for a minute. Until I touched her damn foot, and then she dug in and panicked ad pulled and kicked and tugged. Remember I said it had been raining for days? The ground was so wet that the roots on the sapling pulled loose, with me laying on top of it, and 35 odd stone of pig yanking on it.

As soon as the tree wasn't holding her fast anymore, off she went, with me hanging onto the tree, dragging through the mud behind her like the worst ploughman ever. Janus was trying to stop her, running in front of her and shouting at the stupid pig, and getting out of the way before he got trampled. Brave little bastard jumped up on the sow to try and stop her, landed across her back like a boney saddle blanket, and that did nothing to ease her temper.

By then it was near enough to dawn that some men were up and about. Men like farmers. Like Farmer Wallace, eh? So, there we were, two young heroes of Derugar, screaming down out of the woods like we'd seen the Bright One himself, with a pig who'd seen him with us. All right, not quite with a pig. Janus was on the pig's back, and I was being dragged behind her hanging onto a small tree. The roads were made of deep, soupy mud, so we did not look our best when the sow hit the road and went right past Wallace on his way to his barn, with Janus flopping and yelling and the sow running and squealing and me in the back bouncing and sputtering and bellowing for the damned pig to stop. Made quite an impression on the Wallace girls, who saw it all from the house, or so they said. Not the one we were after, but it was an impression just the same.

Janus hand held mostly quiet, enjoying the telling, and the memories it had brought to him about those heady days, when all the world seemed an endless forest, laid at their feet. When Tob had finished telling the tale, Janus finally added, deadpan.

"He always forgets to mention that by the time that stupid pig ran past Wallace, the mud had pulled his pants down round his ankles."