Greyfax Grimwald by Niel Hancock

Author:Niel Hancock
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780446310932
Published: 1982-11-30T23:00:00+00:00

Bear’s

Plan

Bear sat long into the night, planning and thinking, his great form sank low over his table, one huge paw drumming upon the stout oak top, the other idly stirring about a freshly opened cask of new honey from a tree Dwarf had discovered on one of their many explorations. His mind was full of sorrow at the disappearance of Dwarf, and all Froghorn had told him, and having to leave his beloved cave after all the contented years they had spent in the valley. Wars and contagion, man and beast alike slaying each other in wanton fashion, magical boxes, wizards, and all sorts of disturbing memories spun through his troubled mind. Bear lowered his head into his paws, sighing wearily.

“Well,” he said aloud to his cave wall, “if anyone should have to go on the errand to find this man Froghorn speaks of, it should be me. No sense taking Otter into heaven knows what danger. Silly old fellow would only be in the way if one was really hard pressed. I may as well get an early start and simply leave him a note explaining it all.” Bear, heart heavy and saddened at the thought of leaving Otter, rose up and began packing what he bought he would need for the journey. Clever dwarf tins of the new honey, full of the comb, and an extra cask of water, maps, and a favorite book or two, and lastly, pulling it out of the other knickknacks upon the high shelf, the dragon stone of Dwarf’s, which he had picked up from Broco’s floor, where he’d found it lying forgotten when he and Otter had discovered Dwarf gone, and Froghorn full of his incredible tale.

Knapsack bulging, Bear started for his entrance door, then halted. He remembered Otter’s odd visiting hours, and as likely as not, he’d run into the little gray fellow capering about for a last swim, or sitting on the rush shore counting ripples, or other such otter nonsense. He decided to use one of his other tunnels, unused until now, which led through the hill to an opening on the other side. He’d dug that long ago, right after they had first settled in the valley, for that spring brought floods and high water, and he’d wanted to have a dry spot to nap in should the water decide to visit him in his lower den. The thought of padding about up to one’s hocks in water was a drearier thought than a bit of a dig, so he’d set to work on the project, and after all his fortnight’s effort, the river had receded, and spring turned more beautiful than ever, and he’d forgotten the tunnel until now.

“What good sense to have that shaft,” he chuckled’ to himself, then, recalling that he was leaving his home, and Otter, and all else he had come to hold closely to his heart, he turned, brushed away a single, huge tear, and packed two extra cooking pots that Dwarf

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