"Freitag's Kinder"

by MT Friday III

Pt. 2

"Wake up!", Freitag screamed at the motionless boy. The pale blue boy was sitting upright under the small outcropping of rock with his knees to his chest, arms around his legs. Ice hung from the tip of his nose and chin, his lips and eyes dark blue."Fluch es Rowen! WAKE UP!!", screamed Freitag. His brother's eyes popped open, black as coal, and a fang filled muzzle appeared where his mouth had been. Freitag bolted upright in bed, breathing hard and sweating. He had fallen asleep. Looking around the lodge, and seeing the rest of his family safely still asleep, Freitag quietly slipped out of bed. He pulled back the window covering and opened the shutter just far enough to peak outside. Snow had piled up to the bottom of the window frame and the world appeared in a blue tint by the pre-dawn light. But the storm seemed to have run it's course and the stars could be seen in the crisp clear sky. It had lasted almost four days, the longest and fiercest storm in recent memory.

Freitag went to the fire pit and added wood to the still glowing embers. He then reached out the window and grabbed a double handful of snow, wiping his face and hands with it. Careful to not to disturb his family, Freitag quietly wrapped some dried meat, bread and cheese up in a scarf. This bundle he added to his sack and gear. Then with the grace and prowess of a much younger man, he stealthily slipped out the door of lodge into the brisk winter morning carrying his weapons and gear.

If not for the circumstances, it could have been said to be a beautiful winter's morning. The sun had peaked over the mountains into the valley, bathing it in a golden glow that reflected off the snow.  Freitag's thoughts were not on the scenery, but of the grim task before him. Finding his son's body to give him a proper funeral was all that mattered to Freitag now. He wanted to believe that the boy was still alive, but surviving four days and three nights in the worst storm in ages would be asking too much of hope. As he put the schneeskis planks on his feet, Freitag heard the rhythmic crunch of someone walking on new snow. Looking up he saw his friend Gunter walking towards him carrying his own weapons and gear.

"Guten morgen, Freitag", said Gunter as he approached. "And what is so good about it freund?", replied Freitag flatly. Gunter looked down, nodding his head. Then looking around Gunter said, "he probably headed up the north side of valley, towards the old caves". "Ya, that sounds about right", Freitag replied, looking north. Then Freitag stood, shouldering his gear and weapons, testing to see how well he had tied the schneeskis to his feet. He then picked up the winged hunting spear and used it as a walking staff. Without a word, both men began walking north side by side.

It was mid afternoon as the two approached the foothills of the mountain that formed the northern rim of the valley. Looking up, the mountain looked like a frost covered giant towering above them. Avalanches would be the biggest danger here. Wordlessly they began the slow, arduous climb up the mountain. Few animals or birds were seen as the two trekked forward, just leagues of snow covered pine. The only sound, other than the two men crunching through the snow, was the occasional dollops of snow falling from the trees as the day warmed.

By dusk they had made it as far as they could, it was time to set up camp and build a fire. As Gunter collected wood, Freitag set up their tent under a large pine tree, careful to knock off any snow from the limbs above before hand. With that done, both men dug out their meager supplies and had a cold meal by firelight. Gunter offered to take first watch, but Freitag had insisted he would stay awake while Gunter slept.

Midway through the cold evening, Gunter awoke and took his place by the fire. Freitag laid down in the tent, but sleep would not come. After what seemed like an eternity, the sky began to lighten as dawn approached. Both men broke camp, and started what would be their routine for next two days.

On the third evening as Gunter watched Freitag nodding off mid-meal from lack of sleep, there was a loud ‘snap' from somewhere in the darkness. In an instant both men had jumped to their feet. Freitag was wide awake now, his spear in hand and shield at the ready. Gunter had grabbed his two handed axe and was standing with his back to Freitag, waiting to see what kind of intruder they had.

 Freitag had feared something like this might happen. They had trapped and killed a rabbit earlier in the day, and he knew the scent of blood might attract predators. Both men had enough sense to gut and clean the carcass where they caught it, then took only what they had intended on eating that night. They had thoroughly cleaned all the blood from their knives and hands in a stream before heading back to camp, but some animals had a very good sense of smell. And most of them were not to be trifled with.

<<< to be continued >>>