Crown of Vengeance fie-1

by Stephen Zimmer

  As he cushioned his head upon his tucked arm, he found that the hard ground was unforgiving, and that the air was thicker in the confined space. Yet neither discomfort proved to be an impediment to sleep as his weariness became irrepressible.

  Listening with fading awareness to the litany of trees and insects, Janus finally drifted off into the arms of a deep and abiding sleep.

  Section IV

  LOGAN

  When daylight finally arrived, it was accompanied by a faint tremor that reverberated steadily through the ground.

  A sound like the distant rumbling of thunder, heralding a faraway storm, traveled through the early morning air. After a little time had passed, it became quite evident that both the noise and the potency of the tremors were increasing.

  Logan, whose own restlessness had prompted him to take the final watch of the night with Derek, affording Erika a little more rest, had readily noticed the first subtle disturbances. The night had passed without incident, though the relative tranquility had not lulled the senses of either of them into complacency during their appointed watch.

  Their presence in an utterly foreign world had helped to keep Logan’s own senses keen to the slightest sound or aberration. Furthermore, as Logan had come to appreciate, Derek already possessed an exceptionally alert, very disciplined disposition.

  There was little incentive to any other orientation anyway, as, to Logan’s perspective, there was not much comfort to be had at hand. When he had decided to ask Erika to take over for the final watch shift, his back had felt like it had been transformed into dry wood after struggling in vain to sleep for a few scant hours upon the hard, unforgiving ground. Even after much stretching, there still were some serious kinks in his back that he had not yet been able to work out.

  Logan and Derek’s looks of apprehension had increased, as the rumbles grew ever louder and the vibrations became stronger. Logan’s own unease stemmed from the feeling that the seeming thunder did not have the usual quality of a natural storm. He dreaded to think about what kind of unwelcome surprise might be greeting them, to start off this new day in an utterly strange land.

  Mershad rose up from the ground nearby, where he had recently adjusted his orientation towards the light of the rising sun. He had just concluded some prayers, his pre-dawn prostration instantly revealing to Logan that Mershad was of the Islamic faith.

  Mershad’s widened eyes and nervous demeanor reflected how he was feeling about the vibrations and rumbles. He looked to Logan and Derek, and all three nodded solemnly to each other as an unspoken consensus was reached.

  Without sparing a further moment, the three roused all of the others from their slumber. The tremors persisted all the while, continuing in an unrelenting, ascending pulsation.

  “What is it?” Kent asked Logan, groaning as he was shaken firmly upon the shoulder.

  Logan backed out of Kent’s way, urging, “Get up! Something’s happening!”

  Kent looked to be in a very disheveled state as he emerged out from under the makeshift shelter, a nervous frown upon his face as he squinted into the bright morning light. His eyes darted about warily as he became more cognizant of the disturbing sensations. The audible rumbles and shaking in the ground brought an increasingly apprehensive look to Kent’s face.

  “I have no idea what it is,” Logan replied to Kent’s unvoiced query.

  “That’s not like any storm or earthquake that I have ever been around before,” Kent remarked to Logan and Derek, as the latter approached them.

  “No, it isn’t,” Derek replied curtly.

  “It doesn’t recede or ebb,” Erika added firmly, as she came over to stand by them, her eyes already quite awake and alert.

  Her brow furrowed as she concentrated, methodically looking to all directions. She finally squared her body almost directly towards the west, where the trio of Janus, Kent, and Derek had originally entered the borders of the forest.

  “I’m pretty sure that it is coming from out there, straight in that direction,” she declared, pointing off through the trees. “And surprises aren’t always good. Maybe we should look into it for ourselves… before something looks into us.”

  Antonio and Janus had emerged into the morning light by then, crawling out from deeper within the crude shelter of branches and foliage. They were swiftly brought up to date by the others, as a frown darkened Janus’ countenance, and anxiety gripped Antonio’s.

  One by one, the others all looked about, concentrating upon the strength of the sounds and vibrations. Logan and the others gradually arrived at their own best conclusions, and announced them in turn, collectively finding that Erika was entirely correct in her assessment.

  The increasing rumbles hailed to them through the forest from the immediate west.

  “Come on then!” Derek pressed the others adamantly. “Erika’s right. We need to find out. I don’t like surprises to begin with, and I like to at least know what I’m facing, especially if some potential trouble is afoot.”

  Logan nodded in agreement, before declaring, “I’ll come with you, Derek.”

  Mershad and Erika then volunteered in turn, right before Antonio spoke up.

  “Shouldn’t a couple of us stay back at the camp?” Antonio inquired, looking nervous. “And I’m not the fastest runner, if you guys need to get back here in a hurry.”

  “And neither am I,” Kent then added, with a veneer of clear diffidence.

  Logan glanced over at Derek, who was looking more impatient by the second. Logan understood where Kent’s trepidation came from. From talking to Derek, he knew that Kent had already been through quite an ordeal when he had become stranded alone for a brief time in the new world.

  “Maybe a few of us should stay here, to keep an eye on our camp,” Logan suggested. He then eyed Janus and Kent. “Maybe you two should say here with Antonio. Leave at least three together.”

  “Fine with me,” Kent responded, looking a little relieved at not being compelled to court potential danger right away.

  Janus looked a little reluctant to stay behind, a slight frown returning to his face, but finally nodded after a long pause.

  “Then we’re decided,” Derek said bluntly. He clapped his hands together sharply, the noise cracking the air loudly in the tense atmosphere. “Come on, let’s get going! Let’s get near to the treeline, and we’ll see what comes next.”

  Breaking into a run, Derek took the lead and bolted off for the edge of the forest to the west. Needing no further inspiration, Logan, Erika, and Mershad followed immediately after him, running hard a few steps behind.

  Derek outran all three of the others, covering the distance to the forest’s edge rather quickly. He slowed down only when the trees had started to noticeably thin. Finally coming to a complete stop, he then crept forward silently and carefully from a crouched position towards the outermost edge of the trees.

  Erika was the next to arrive in the vicinity, followed by Logan, and then Mershad. They each slowed as they neared Derek, stalking up towards him and silently taking a cue from his manifest caution. They each emulated his form as best as they could, Logan and Erika having more success in the endeavor than Mershad, whose efforts at stealthier movement appeared a little awkward.

  Derek glanced back occasionally to note their progress, saying nothing, and evidently satisfied at the wary approach that the others were taking. Even so, there was something in Derek’s gaze that caught Logan’s attention, though the man’s face continued to remain impassive as they crept up to his position.

  The reason for the strange look within Derek’s eyes became abundantly clear just a few moments later.

  Through a break in the trees, Logan beheld the grassy plain beyond. His eyes widened in reflex at the incredible sight that abruptly swamped his eyes. His breath was also snatched away by the unexpected, overwhelming vision erupting boldly before the four shocked observers.

  The massive scene spread out upon the plains was simply staggering in scope, difficult
to absorb as it bombarded the senses, and almost impossible to believe. Where the open grassland swept out towards the far horizons, there was a gargantuan, moving presence.

  Without question, it was the source of the sonorous rumbles, as well as the substantial tremors that continued to course through the ground.

  Sprawling out right before their eyes was the passage of a vast army on the march, many thousands in number. Even more astounding, it appeared to be an army from an age that Logan would have thought to be long lost within the mists of time.

  It was as if the pages of medieval history had vibrantly come to life within this astounding new world. At his side, Mershad gasped in undeniable awe, as a wave of lightheadedness flowed through Logan. He struggled to make some sense out of what he was seeing, his mind and heart racing. Not a single word was shared among the four observers.

  Logan and the others gradually recovered from their momentary trance brought on by the enormous spectacle. Derek was the first to come back to full focus, lowering himself slowly to the ground and beckoning for the others to do likewise.

  Once they were all prostrate, they crawled forward on their bellies with Derek until they were close behind the trunks of the trees nearest to the edge of the grassy, windswept expanse. Logan’s form grew rigidly still after he halted, a combination of wonder and fear fixing him firmly in place.

  Even if he had the eyes of a hawk, Logan would still have been overwhelmed at the variety of sights, not to mention the sheer size of the column of warriors that meandered far beyond the limits of his vision to the south. He was already resigned to settling in for an extended duration. With the column’s size and rate of march, Logan estimated that it would take a very long time for the entire army to pass by their position. The immensity of the scene wholly enveloped his attention, and he did not so much as cast a glance towards his companions.

  Stretching far off to the left, well past the edge of his range of vision, was a continuous stream of warriors. Some mounted, and many others on foot, all were arrayed in an organized, column formation. The fresh daylight glinted in abundance, reflecting off steel all the way down the incredible length of the column.

  The bristling expanse of spears in view resembled a new, deadlier version of the rolling grasslands that the army was passing through. Unlike the abundant, swaying grasses all around the column, the tract of upright blades of iron grass was not swayed in the least by the billowing winds.

  Leading the extensive column was a vanguard of mounted warriors, iron helms shining brightly underneath a host of fluttering banners and pennons.

  The forms of their horses exuded strength, the equines all displaying a sleek, well-cared for appearance as they traveled forward at an easy gait. Many of the horses were garbed in white caparisons, which appeared to have a quilted or padded design to them.

  The riders in the vanguard were all clad in what looked to be black woolen habits, fitted with hoods that were currently pulled back. Upon the left breasts of the riders’ habits, on their red banners and pennons, and rendered upon the black facings of the long triangular or almond-shaped shields, slung over their backs via guige straps, was the image of a white, upright spear.

  Carrying long lances, the warriors all had swords sheathed in the scabbards at their waists.

  Logan watched the vanguard contingent trot by with rapt interest. It was still difficult for him to fully accept that he was really witnessing such a remarkable sight, even as the ground steadily vibrated beneath his body.

  The black-garbed mounted force was followed soon after by a great number of marching foot soldiers. The masses of infantry provided a living screen of protection for the extensive baggage train in their midst.

  Four-wheeled wagons and two-wheeled carts rumbled forward slowly, some pulled by horses and others by teams of plodding oxen. Wagon drivers used shouts and long switches to spur the brawny creatures forward. Packhorses laden down with all manner of hide pouches, water skins, and other materials trundled along among the wheeled elements of the baggage train.

  Many of the marching figures in the looser throng surrounding the carts and wagons carried spears, while others held crossbows or bows. Several were bearing a very unique type of long-hafted axe, guisarmes with lengthy, curved blades.

  Two distinct lines of marching figures strode in disciplined order along the forest-side of the baggage train. The men of the inner line were all bearing crossbows, the belt hooks used for loading them jangling downward from their waists.

  Just outside of them in an even line was a file of spearmen with tall, rectangular shields. Mail-coated, with iron half-helms, they formed a living screen for the crossbowmen to their left.

  The orderly lines of spearmen and crossbowmen warily eyed the forest’s edge, compelling Logan to not move a muscle lest the cascade of eyes sweeping along the edge of the trees take notice of him.

  Out from the flank closest to the outskirts of the forest were intermittent formations of mounted warriors. Logan could not help but think that many of the riders in these periodic bands were knights.

  The particular riders catching Logan’s eyes exhibited an unrivaled splendor that was set well apart from all others in the column, whether on foot, or with them on horse. Logan found his eyes roving from one impressive form to another, each one a grand sight in and of themselves.

  Several individuals displayed matching colors between their sleeveless, knee-length surcoats, triangular shield facings, and the draping bards adorning their war stallions. Luxuriant blues, vibrant reds, bright yellows, deep greens, and other lush hues formed the bases of their rich trappings.

  Some of these warriors had additional designs displayed on their outer surcoats, shields, and bards. Stylized lions clawed viciously at unseen adversaries, while great birds of prey spread their beaks apart, loosing piercing battle cries. Dragons opened their mighty jaws wide, as if about to loose torrents of scorching flame. Wolves bared their knife-like fangs menacingly, caught in mid-bound as they raced across some invisible terrain.

  On other shields, surcoats, and caparisons, the displays were simpler. Straight bars, chevrons, and other geometric elements were set in various arrangements against the solid hues of their backgrounds.

  The stately riders, like those of less prominent appearance accompanying them, had their heads turned towards the forest. The expressions of many knights were hidden behind the iron visors of cylindrical half-helms, or encompassed within full great helms, flat-topped and barrel-round.

  After watching the procession of warriors for quite some time, Logan’s eyes were drawn towards an exceptionally sizeable banner pulled forth by a large team of burly oxen. The great banner undulated in the robust breezes from the top of a high mast, exhibiting a prominent sigil upon its surface.

  It was of a golden fleur-de-lis. Set against a deep blue background, the proud image of the fleur-de-lis was striking to behold.

  The stout wagon trundled onward, carrying the banner along with it to the north, and the river of warriors continued to flow by for what seemed to be an interminable length of time to Logan. Without needing to count, he knew with surety that several thousand men had already passed by their position. He longed to stretch his tightening limbs, doing his utmost to block out of his mind any physical discomforts that arose in the extended duration.

  Lying on his belly in a prone position was fortuitous in that he was not in a more contorted pose that might have quickly become unbearable to maintain. He was even able to prop his head up on the back of his arms, though he did so very slowly and cautiously.

  He had no other choice available other than to wait with his equally silent companions, continuing their prolonged vigil at the edge of the forest. Even modest movements were very likely to be seen by the more diligent elements of the marching force. It was nerve-wracking enough worrying about discovery, even being as rigidly still as he was.

  Just as Logan grew acclimated to the sight of the marching formation and his nerves had se
ttled a little more, another unexpected, and breathtaking, element manifested. The hairs immediately stood out on the nape of his neck as the first of many utterly strange, fearsome-looking creatures started appearing shortly beyond the mid-way juncture of the huge force’s passage.

  Even farther out towards the forest from the core of the dense marching column, pacing lithely along the ground, were what looked to be a type of massive, dark-furred cat. The great beasts were noticeably larger than an adult male lion, which was the closest animal that Logan could relate the burly felines to. There were several of the stunning beasts in the first wave to come into view, stepping with feline grace and brimming with powerful muscularity.

  The powerful cats’ broad heads turned from side to side, their ears twitching separately and reactively, in sharp alertness to every sound. An extensive, wicked-looking set of frontal canines was visible, fully exposed and descending to sharp points just below their great jaws. The veritable daggers gave the creatures an appearance acutely reminiscent of the prehistoric sabretooths whose images Logan had often pored over with fascination as a child.

  Proud of posture, the impressive creatures were restrained by long, thick leather cords, attached to iron-studded collars fitted around their ample necks. The leashes were held at the opposite ends in the firm grips of handlers of a very unusual appearance, who jogged effortlessly behind the steady gait of the cats.

  The handlers were as fascinating as the great sabretoothed cats, and Logan stared at them in wonder and disbelief. They were of the same race as the small contingent of warriors that came up close behind the first group of great cats. There were around a hundred of the peculiar, bi-pedal creatures in all, including both the handlers and the armed company.

  Their appearance was like that of a large rodent that could walk upright, like a human. Their height was many inches shorter than that of average human adults, the taller ones among them being only about five feet tall. A coat of coarse, dark fur fully covered bodies that were lean and sinewy, with long, narrow limbs.