Winter, 1330

It was approaching the longest night of the year, and the snows were beginning to descend upon the mountain passes of the Betakakin Range, ceasing most fighting and campaigning for the year. Raids and skirmishes would continue, but the weather would limit mobility and visibility on both sides, and the food supplies would strain, meaning it was safer for everyone to wait. It was time to take stock of the situation.

In many regards, this had been the worst year in the recent history of the bull-peoples, with the destruction and capture of the bulk of the minotaur warriors at Zamar. The tribes had been forced to flee deeper into the mountains-almost to the Back Valley- and to band together for safety, which in itself further strained the limited food supplies. Normally in the winter, the minotaurs migrated down into the Sacred Valley, something the new Tassurian Army assembled there had effectively cut off. Despite the efforts of the new Roja, who had reserved the safest remaining harvesting and hunting grounds for those unable to fight and continued to send as much supplies back to them as possible, calves and the old were dying in increasing numbers from limited food and the cold. The new Roja, Sarangay, was saddened by these news from home, but surrender could only be worse. News of the death of the Black Prince had gone from the Other Men back to the minotaurs, and the bull-people knew from Zamar the vengeance of Emperor Baldwin.

Still, under Sarangay, the minotaurs had refused to be destroyed. The Fales midwife had rallied together a new force, 800-strong, to redeem the broken pride of the bull-peoples, and to regain their surviving manhood, enslaved to fight and feed the Tassurian Empire. Through months of terrible fighting and bloodshed, innumerable raids and ambuscades, Sarangay's guerrillas had indeed mostly regained control of the mountains: no supply train of the Tassurian Empire with less protection than an entire brigade was able to use the mountain passes to feed the Northerner Armies now regrouping at Cirrus near the Rapidan River, and indeed an entire Northerner Army had now been created just to keep their front lines supplied. These efforts had come at high cost: 143 of Sarangay's fellow warriors had fallen in the fighting. At the same time though, Sarangay's forces had managed to gain in number: an additional fifty older calves had joined the ranks. More importantly, nearly 200 minotaur male prisoners had been rescued, most of whom were eager to rejoin the fight in attempt to erase their humiliations. The Tassurians were either foolish enough or desperate enough to supply their front line forces that they were willing to risk using prisoners who could be freed in their supply trains.

The bulk of the Roja's strength however were now humans, either freed prisoners from the great Auxian defeats the year before or volunteers willing to risk joining the bull peoples to defeat the Other Men. Nearly 1500 Auxians added numbers and technology to the minotaur force centered around the Balcony Caves, perhaps another 2000 providing supplies and intelligence. Neighboring human guerrilla forces, which had also grown in number began paying attention, demarcating raiding boundaries and sometimes sharing intelligence. Most importantly, seeing the Roja rescue and employ human prisoners, they were no longer killing the captive minotaurs that they were coming across in their own battles, instead sending them over. Hence, the former midwife of the Fales had carved out a comfortable little fiefdom and-at least temporarily-things had gotten better. Ironically, Sarangay's guerrilla forces were now well supplied-courtesy of the Tassurians-and while the female minotaur would like to send more back to her noncombatants, the politics of a mixed-ethnic force meant that she also needed to reward both her human supporters and her veterans. They had fought and bled for nothing more than their belief in her, and they deserved a bit of celebration for their accomplishments.

{It's time for the festivities, my Roja!} Mwi had called out with some jubilation. The sable-furred minotaur had devoted as much planning for the celebration as she normally did with her scouting trips, which meant everything was as ready as could possibly be, down to the extra volunteer sentries, the prominent local human and minotaur leaders invited, the skins hung from the boulders and covering the crevices of the talus cave, the collection of food and alcohol raided or traded, and Mwi's special project, some musical instruments specially carved by an expert human carpenter. A crowd of guerrillas had assembled, filling the Balcony Caves to the brim. Sarangay clambered atop a large boulder that she used as a platform, and observed the thousands of eyes watching her. That used to frighten her, but after everything that everyone had gone through, Sarangay just accepted it as part of being the Roja. The Roja's guerrillas were weary, some were bloody, but they looked up to the former midwife with eagerness and respect. A human translator stood nearby to explain things to the Auxians as Sarangay spoke:

{Thank you all for your efforts. We have done well in fighting the People of the Snows. We have accomplished much. We have survived, we have won victories, and we have driven them off from our mountain homes. Make no mistake, when the snows thaw and the mud dries, the People of the Snows will come at us even harder than before, but now they are back in the lowlands, humiliated and licking their wounds. For us, we will celebrate!}

The minotaurs, female and rescued males cheered in response, followed a minute later by the humans upon translation. Wine and ale casks were opened, bread was broken, meat was cut and quickly enough the festivities began. Some humans picked up lyras and panduras and began playing. Music quickly flowed through the cave, mixing with the sound of food, alcohol, and laughter.

Walking among her warriors, and grabbing a few bites along the way, Sarangay came across Mwi slinging around her shoulder a ludicrous instrument with a massive bellows and ten wooden pipes erupting from its top.

{What is this thing?} Sarangay at her lead scout with confusion.

{A squeeze lung! Sings louder than you could bellow out!} Mwi replied, adding: {I've been practicing!} She squeezed the organetto with her fingers on some keys, producing a low moaning sound like a dying whale. Sarangay smiled and shook her head. Mwi may be the best tracker the Roja knew, but she was at best a mediocre musician. Not that Sarangay was any better. As the sable-furred minotaur began compressing out a tune, the russet-colored minotaur shrugged and picked up the only instrument she knew how to play-back from her days of announcing to the tribe a new birth-a triangle. As Mwi began to belt out a melody, Sarangay caught the tune and began following along.

Sarangay beat the shit out of that triangle, and the two minotaur musicians attracted the interest of the cave. The lyras and panduras joined in, as did the claps and cheers and clink of glasses and the festivities went deep into the night. For a few hours everyone was lost in the joys of a party.

There was no real occasion to celebrate of course: the minotaurs celebrated the longest night of the year, but that was in a few more moons. On the other hand, the humans celebrated what they called the Harvest Festival, when they gathered the crops and had the most plentiful bounty, but that was a few moons before the snow. No matter, with the war temporarily receding to the background, this was the time to celebrate. Food may not be bountiful, the night could still get longer, but here Sarangay and all of her people were. Sarangay the Roja had survived up to now. The minotaur guerrillas and their allies had survived up to now. They may all die tomorrow-no matter. They will celebrate their current existence.

Continued survival was definitely worth celebrating about.

---

Joseph Falcon - Acadian One Step

I hope everyone has a happy Thanksgiving period!

Courtesy of  theroguez

Original: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/33945843/