Pepper Steak

[Balmafula]

By Istvan

Despite having to dig himself out of a pile of snow and dirt and feeling like his body was one gigantic bruise, Istvan wasn?t especially surprised to be alive. Then again, he would have felt the same way about his death. He was the left paw of the All-Mother, and he would live and die only by her will. And this landslide certainly represented an act of hers, another mass return of life made necessary by the great imbalance between the gift-giver and the receiver.

?Necessary, but regrettable,? he said out loud. It didn?t have to be like this. The otter cursed the capriciousness of belief, then drew his knife. He had important business to attend to.

The landslide had strewn the valley with rocks and the detritus of beasts? livelihoods. Cheap metal pots and pans shined like stars, smashed glass glistened silver in the moonlight, and colorfully dyed strips of cloth snagged on trees or rocks became tattered banners. More importantly, among these remnants could be found their owners. Or what was left of them.

The first one Istvan found was a weasel whose eyes stared vacantly toward the stars, but the corpse lacked any obvious wounds. Broken back, most likely. Istvan knelt down and dragged his knife across its throat. The precious red blood dripped lazily down, over his paws and onto the rocks, flowing in a pattern reminiscent of that traced out in ink on his face. Istvan asked the Mother to grant the nameless vermin a fair judgment, then rose and moved on.

Nothing happened in the world that was not a consequence of beasts? choices. The town of Yew had denied his requests to punish severe crimes by bloody execution, preferring instead the more typically woodlander method of exile. And look where that had gotten them. There were laws older and more sacred than those created by beasts, and they could not be disregarded.

Alternatively crawling and walking through the small hills of stone and snow, Istvan came upon a mouse trapped beneath several large rocks. The pitiful woodlander was struggling to free herself, but could not avail against the crushing weight. Istvan looked at the mouse, then at the rocks trapping her. He pushed on the rocks. They moved slightly.

?Help me, please,? pleaded the merchant. The otter put a paw on her head and took out his knife.

?This is the greatest help I can give,? he replied. ?It is not for you, but for the balance of the world.?

She didn?t make a sound, just stared open-mouthed at him as he put the blade to her throat and returned her lifeblood to the All-Mother. Istvan admired that stoic silence. If more beasts accepted their rightful fate, the world would be a much better place.

There were others, so many others. Some of them were buried, their presence only betrayed by a tail or a paw peeking up through the rubble. Most had already passed from the earth, but still Istvan slit their necks. This way he ensured that each death was properly consecrated and the blood returned to the earth in the correct way.

The otter was finishing off a ferret when what little light he had abruptly disappeared and a familiar voice boomed from above.

?GUARDSBEAST!?

Istvan saluted. ?Captain Noonahootin.?

The owl landed in front of him in a great billowing of snow. ?Corporal Istvan, it is good to see you alive and well. We lost so many beasts in that avalanche.?

The otter thought momentarily of the many blue-uniformed beasts he had sent to the Mother during the last few hours, but only nodded.

?Guardsbeast Vanessa is the only other one of us who I have yet found alive,? continued the Captain. ?She is with a group of survivors not far from here.?

?Ah yes, I remember Vanessa,? said Istvan. Insubordinate brat with a chip on her shoulder. ?She is not the first beast I would have chosen to lead a large party, unless they are inspired by copious consumption of alcohol.?

The owl sighed. ?I am well aware of the limitations of those under my command, Corporal. I am ordering you to meet up with her group and, as the highest-ranking guardsbeast that appears to be left, I am deputizing you with official authority to take charge of this group and get them to safety.?

?Yes, sir.? The otter saluted again.

?I need somebeast who is not going to lose their head and panic. I remember how you conducted yourself during the bread riots last season, Corporal. Just keep everything under control, and make sure everybeast stays safe.?

?I will conduct myself in accordance with the highest principles of my duties.?

?Good. Walk towards the mountain with the highest peak and you will soon reach the others; keep going in that direction and you will find a cave where you can shelter for the night. I will meet up with you after I have finished scouting the rest of the area. There may be a pass somewhere that the landslide didn?t obliterate.?

As he watched the owl leave, Istvan marveled at the great miracle which had just occurred. Seven seasons of service in the Guard, and only as a result of this great judgment of the Mother had he finally risen to command. Truly she favored her most loyal priest.

There was one last duty to perform, before he returned to the world of suspicious stares and mocking muttering. Taking out his knife and looking out over the great field of devastation, Istvan bowed his head and prayed.

?Great Mother of All, your priest asks you to look mercifully on those whose life has been extinguished today but through no fault of their own have not returned their blood to you. I acknowledge that as your instrument in this world, the failing is entirely mine. Therefore I offer myself as a sacrifice in their stead, so that they may receive the judgment they deserve.?

He sliced his arm open, spraying crimson across the ground. After watching it drain for a few seconds, he ripped a strip from his Yew Guard?s cloak and tied it around the wound. He then discarded the cloak, which after a long day of work was more holes than cloth.

As it turned out, what for an owl was a short flight was significantly longer for an otter scrambling uphill over rocky terrain in near-darkness. He could see the tall peak that was his destination only by the faint light of the moon suspended behind it. When he sighted the faint flickering of flames up ahead he offered fervent thanks to the Mother. The frozen cocktail of water and blood that caked his fur made him feel the cold most acutely, and he could not help but be cheered by the prospect of a fire.

As he approached the light, the world suddenly went sideways and he found himself lying snoutdown with something ominously sharp and metal poking in to the back of his neck.

?Who?re you and what?re you doing here?? croaked a voice.

?My name is Istvan, priest of the All-Mother and corporal in the Yew Guards. I was ordered by Captain Noonahootin to take command of the group that includes Guardsbeast Vanessa.?

?With the Guard, are you? Fine. Get up slowly, and if you reach for that knife I?ll put this spear right through you.?

As Istvan rose he discovered that his attacker was a toad dressed in what appeared to be Yew Guard livery and treating him to a furious death stare. It was such an incongruous picture that he almost laughed.

?Get moving, hotblood. You?re not in the clear yet,? warned the beast.

Istvan walked obligingly ahead of the amphibian in to an illuminated circle of warmth filled with sitting beasts. His companion hopped over to an otter jill garbed in the familiar blue uniform.

?Hey, this otter showed up saying he?s one of you. Is he telling the truth or should I give him to Cookie to make more bedrolls out of??

?Good evening, Guardsbeast Vanessa,? said Istvan.

"Weel, look who's et is! Mister Inkface an' his bloody knife tae boot."

Istvan gave her his most intimidating glare. "Apparently the Mother spares lazy drunkards as easily as she spares her most loyal follower.?

The toad ribbetted impatiently. ?So should I kill him or not??

Vanessa grinned wickedly. "Sure, carry on laddie." 

?I don?t think Noonahootin would appreciate you threatening your superior officer, especially since he personally ordered me to take charge of this group.?

The otttermaid threw up her paws. "He what?! Huh, an' Ah thought that owl had sense. O' all the beasts..."

?Interesting company you?re keeping,? remarked Istvan.

"Shut yer muzzle, yer no better than any of 'em."

?I only do my duty. I would gladly have continued to attend to the necessary balance of life, but the Captain ordered me to assume command here and escort this group to a cave farther up the mountain.?

By now the rest of the group had shifted position to listen to the otters? conversation. One of them, a rat, began accosting Istvan.

?Who?s the captain to be sendin' you in here tellin? us what to do? It?s cold an? we don?t have proper coats, it?s dark, we?re all hurtin? from bein? in a landslide, and all of us here have lost friends today.?

The tattooed otter rounded on her. ?I am Istvan, most beloved priest of the All-Mother-?

"-'an the Guard's local religious crackpot", Vanessa cut in. She glanced at his bloody arm and shrunk back imperceptibly, barely veiled disgust in her tone.

"Ye've been busy haven't ye? Noo Ah'm sure there aren't any survivors left alive oot there. Ah still cannae believe that owl left ye in charge."

?There?s seven of us and one of him. I don?t think he has any authority to be ordering us around,? commented a pine marten jill. Istvan didn?t like the look of that one. She seemed to think herself far too clever for her own good.

The group as a whole seemed a pretty motley assortment. Aside from the irritating pine marten there was the toad, Guardsbeast Vanessa, the mouthy rat, a ferret who looked like an old fighter, a young wildcat with a limp arm whose tail was bottlebrushing impressively, and an even younger ferretmaid who despite her comical hedgehog costume looked like the walking dead. Istvan was under no illusions about his fighting abilities, but this lot seemed to be in no condition to be threatening harm. On the other paw, neither was he in his current cold, hungry, and bruised condition.

?Listen,? he said. ?While I think it would be a great boon to the world if the lot of you returned your lifeblood to the Mother, against my better judgement I am delaying this until she herself decides that it is time for you to pay for your offenses. However, I did not come here to put my orders to a vote: Captain Noonahootin told me that we must move into this cave, and I intend to make sure this is carried out.?

The rat bristled. ?An? I think you can take yer orders an? shove ?em-?

?He?s right,? interrupted the older ferret. Fourteen eyes immediately fixed themselves on him.

?It?s gettin? colder, and we don?t want to be spendin? the night out in the open like this. Too bloody dark to find tents an? such, an? fire?s worthless with all this wind, even if we had enough wood to keep it goin? all night.?

Istvan blinked. That was... unexpected. He could not recall the last time somebeast had stuck up for him. It probably helped that this ferret was not influenced by the horror stories about him that made the rounds of the Guard barracks, but it was still a welcome surprise. The Mother had blessed him with at least one helpful companion, it seemed. Even if he did appear to be wearing somebeast?s freshly skinned hide.

"Actually, his captain is right. His captain clearly has a decent head on his shoulders. But let's not confuse the two -- I don't care for the orders of beasts who aren't smart enough to at least pretend that they don't want me dead," the marteness looked pointedly at Istvan, her already squinting eyes narrowing even more.

Despite the marten?s insistence at getting in the last word, with much muttering and groaning everybeast began to break camp. As they did so, the otter got a better look at his new companions and couldn?t help but wonder if Noonahootin had been in possession of all the facts. The group contained three young vermin, only one of whom - the pine marten whom he heard addressed as Zevka - seemed to be in adequate mental and physical shape. Vanessa, barely into adulthood herself, disregarded his orders flippantly. The ferret who had helped him had a hole in his stomach. The rat, apparently called Gashrock, favored her left paw excessively. Greenfleck the toad seemed more or less unscathed, but you could never tell with amphibians. Istvan wondered if it would be more merciful to send them all to the Mother now.

Well, he had his orders and he would not deviate from them. If these beasts died in the process then all the better. The ragtag group crawled their way up the moonlit slope, surrounded by the moans of innumerable wounded still trapped in the devastation of the Mother?s wrath and laden with torches, scavenged clothes, and the meager amount of firewood they could salvage. Mountains, Istvan soon discovered, only looked beautiful from far away. Up close they were full of deadly crevices, slick with ice buried under unassuming piles of snow, and covered in impossibly sharp rocks that sliced through his boots and into the pads of his paws. Never had he felt so nostalgic for the city of Yew, for all its accusations, hatred, sin, and lies.

He felt a slight tinge of respect for the old ferret, who not only led the group but did so while carrying the younger one of his species. They must be related somehow, though their features were so dissimilar it could not be by blood. The otter himself fell in line next to the young wildcat, and after a while he noticed that she was edging away from him with a wide-eyed look of fear.

?I already said that I wasn?t going to make you all pay for your crimes yet. Has Vanessa been filling your head with lies about the All-Mother??

?How do you stand it?? she blurted out. ?There?s so many...?

?Excuse me??

"Nyika sees dead beasts,? said the pine marten from behind them. "All those beasts whose deaths you so charmingly describe as a gift to the All-Mother? To her, those are beasts with feelings and loved ones who have just died horribly and can't even move on yet. I don't know if I believe that or not but it doesn't matter. It's real enough to her that she doesn't need you gloating about it."

The wildcat nodded mutely. Unable to contain his emotion, Istvan burst out, ?But that?s amazing! What a great blessing it must be, to be able to communicate with those who have returned to the Mother.?

He had intended it as a compliment, but the look Nyika shot him indicated that she interpreted it as anything but. Strange. The otter made a mental note to investigate this wildcat further. He had encountered many false prophets in his days, but anybeast so clearly terrified was worth listening to.

When Cookie- apparently this was what they called the older ferret, though unless his mother had been a hungry lackwit it was most likely a nickname- finally called back that he could see the cave, the group was too exhausted to muster up any kind of excitement. Yet once they crowded in to their new lodgings, nobeast seemed able to fall asleep. Most of them huddled together talking quietly, while Gashrock and Istvan labored to get a fire going. In truth the rat did most of the work, but the otter at least had enough strength left to salvage some boards from a mostly intact cart that had landed just outside the cave.

?I?ll take watch,? he said. She nodded and, opening the kit she had hauled with her, began to mend her clothes with a focus that belied the day?s traumatic events.

Istvan, meanwhile, sat alone at the cave mouth watching the sky, marveling at how much of a wondrous night it was. The Mother was here, on this day more than he had ever seen before. She had blessed him, saved him from her judgment and raised him higher than before. He would repay her by not swaying from his duty. He drew his knife and looked down the carefully sharpened blade.

It was winter. The All-Mother would have her due.