“Who are you? What are you doing in these woods?” he demanded. “Each of you, speak your answer.”
“I am Erika, and I do not know how I came to be here,” Erika answered, the first of the seven to venture a response.
“My name is Kent… McNeeley. And it is no different with me,” Kent stated nervously. “I have no idea where we are right now, or how we got here. I swear. That’s the truth.”
Logan and Mershad answered similarly, but when it came to the last three in their group, there was an uncomfortable pause. Janus, Antonio, and Derek looked both confused and incredulous.
A look of frustration quickly grew upon the leader’s face during the uneasy delay. He turned his attention back towards Erika, even as Logan whispered to the remaining three.
“Just tell them your name, and why we are here,” he urged.
The leader of the warriors whipped about, and riveted immediately upon Logan.
“They heard me as easily as you did. Why do they not answer me?” the warrior challenged Logan. “Tell your companions to answer. Your lives may depend on it. We will take no chances here.”
As if for emphasis, he raised up the axe gripped in his hand, his chiseled arm muscles flexing at the movement. Logan had little doubt as he watched the fluid movement that the warrior was well-seasoned with the deadly weapon.
Logan imagined the axe hurling forward in a flash, its blade embedding deep in the warrior’s intended target. He certainly did not want that gleaming axe-head to be lodged in his own flesh and bone.
“I don’t know, but I have an idea why they cannot answer you,” Logan replied quickly, trying to keep his timbre as respectful as he could. “They cannot understand you, as we can.”
He hoped against hope that the hard-looking warrior deemed his tone to be polite enough. He looked to the three without the pendants, his mind still very conscious of the sharp edge of the axe gripped in the warrior’s right hand.
There was no harm in answering the question that had been asked, and they were not in any position to bargain.
“Tell him your names. Answer him,” Logan insisted, looking to the other three. “Do you not understand him?”
Derek shook his head first, followed by Antonio and Janus.
“Not a word,” Derek confessed tersely. “I do not know how you are speaking with them. They don’t speak our language.”
“What did he say?” the leader of the warriors questioned Logan curtly, heightened agitation flowing within his words.
Logan looked back to the warrior, becoming more certain of his analysis. Derek had spoken loud enough to be easily heard by the leader, but it was quite apparent that the leader had not understood him.
“He doesn’t understand you, and he doesn’t understand why we can understand you,” Logan offered to the leader carefully, whose impassive expression did not change with the answer.
Derek then asked Logan in a low voice, “How do you understand him?”
“Put the pendants on,” Logan instructed him. He turned back towards the leader. “I think we can speak with you, because of these…”
He slowly brought up his right hand and fingered the blue stone resting upon his chest, lifting it up to display the object to the leader. The hardened warrior seemed to be further perplexed, and his eyes narrowed as he stared intently at the amulet. It was the most significant reaction yet that Logan had seen from the leader, and his interest in the pendant was very evident.
“I do not understand this. I understand you, the woman, and the other two. I see that all understand you when you speak. But you speak in our language. And these three do not understand us, and I do not understand their speech,” the figure said, his words outlining the confusing scenario.
The leader’s eyes flicked between the four wearing the pendants and the other three who were not. He seemed to be searching and studying them at the same time, his brow furrowing more in the intensity of his gaze.
“It must be some kind of magic, but they are not witches, shaman, or sorcerers. My vision is the same as that of Eagle Spirit. There is no dark magic here,” the second warrior that had emerged from behind Logan with a quartz crystal emphasized.
The lead warrior looked solemnly towards the crystal-bearing warrior, before quietly continuing in his scrutiny of Logan’s group. He regarded them for a few more minutes, which seemed like hours to Logan.
As if he came to the same understanding that Logan had reached, the leader stated at last, “Have them place the necklaces on. We will see if you speak truly.”
Logan passed on the directive from the warrior, with his own addendum. “Put your pendants on, but do it slowly.”
The others cooperated, and carefully donned their amulets, looking back to Logan, the warrior-leader, and all the others when they had done so.
“I will ask you again, who are you? Do you serve the Unifier?” the leader asked the trio.
Though a part of him had fully expected the reaction, Logan was still amazed as he saw the wonder dawning upon the faces of the others, as they suddenly comprehended the warrior’s words. In that moment, Logan knew that the strange old man in the blue robes had rendered each of them a most valuable gift. Yet whether the stranger had given it to them for reasons of good or for ill, Logan could still not tell for sure.
Presently, the gift was unquestionably an extraordinary blessing. The fact that the presence of the pendants also seemed acceptable, or at least tolerable, to the armed warriors surrounding them was certainly not a detriment either. Eyeing the arrows trained upon them, as well as the axes and the formidable-looking war clubs, Logan did not want to fathom what might have befallen his group had it been otherwise.
The implications of it all were unfolding quickly upon him. However inexplicable, a genuine type of magic was at work. The realization staggered Logan’s mind.
“No, we don’t serve any Unifier, and I don’t even know who this Unifier is,” Derek replied slowly, the echoes of his astonishment lingering in his face. “We are lost, far from our own world. I don’t even know where we are right now.”
An energetic murmur rippled through the gathering of warriors as they heard Derek speak. Logan could see their amazement, knowing that they understood his words after he had put on the pendant.
Janus and Antonio then voiced their agreement with Derek. As if it was an afterthought, all three then proceeded to give their names to the leader.
“Where did you get those?” the leader questioned the group, gesturing towards the amulets that had so evidently enabled their ability to converse.
“A stranger to us. An old man, with a long white beard and dressed in blue robes. He wore a patch over one eye, and would not give us his name,” Erika replied. “He only said that he was a wanderer through this world. He is the only person we have met since we have been here.”
Logan’s apprehension grew as Erika spoke, hoping that the strange old man was not by some ill twist of fate a great enemy of these warriors. The only thing that now existed in Logan’s world was the expression of the leader’s face, as he tensely awaited the man’s reaction to Erika’s statement.
To Logan’s great relief, the warrior’s posture relaxed, even to the point that there was the hint of a smile on his otherwise indifferent face.
“So, the Wanderer favors you. That is a good sign indeed,” the leader commented, his lightened tone reflecting the visible ebb of tautness from his face.
“What about the army we saw back there?” Logan ventured cautiously, casting a glance back towards the west. “Who were they?”
Several looks were exchanged among the surrounding warriors. The leader tensed again at the mention of the army, and for a moment Logan feared that he had just blundered into making an unnecessary provocation.
Fortunately, the leader’s face settled back once again, after a moment’s pause.
“I might ask you the same question,” the leader replied somberly. “The Unifier brings many from other lands. Some
from very far away. I see clearly that you are not of our land. What are we to think? Yet the Wanderer favors you greatly. He could not be fooled by the arts of the Unifier. And if you worked the dark magic, the crystals would not be deceived. I do not yet understand any of this…”
The last words seemed like an exasperated confession, as the leader fell into an extended silence. Logan could see the frustration plainly enough upon the warrior’s face, and knew that he and the others were not yet out of danger.
Derek then declared, “We have nothing to do with that army back there. Not one thing. Honest. We have no idea about what that army is, what it is about, or where it is going. We truly know nothing. We simply heard its passage when we awoke this morning, and went to see what it was.”
“See if any have the markings,” the leader urged, addressing some of the warriors to his right.
The indicated warriors stepped forward without hesitation, directly approaching the seven. Logan and his companions offered them no resistance, as the warriors grasped their wrists with firm grips, looking very closely and carefully at their bare arms. Logan wondered what they could possibly be searching for, as he continued to cooperate fully with the unexplained inspection.
“Nothing,” one of the other warriors reported at last. “None of them bear the markings.”
At the warrior’s response, the leader let a small smile emerge. The grip on the shaft of his axe noticeably relaxed, as he lowered it down slowly to rest at his side.
“That is another good sign. It seems more likely that you are speaking the truth. For those pledged in full loyalty to the Unifier bear the markings, and it is certain that you are at least not one of them,” the leader said, his tone considerably warmer. “I did not think that the Wanderer could be deceived, especially by a dedicated servant of the Unifier. Such a taint cannot escape the Wanderer’s gaze.”
The leader hesitated, and his voice took on a more somber tone, as the slight smile faded into a stony mien. His eyes flitted between all of them, not meeting their eyes, but looking lower on their bodies.
“But there is still so much about you that is unknown. Your strange garments are different than anything I have ever seen. Not in any of my travels have I seen such garments.
“I once journeyed to large trade gatherings in the great city of Carcasse, within Gallea. Garments from far places in this world were traded there, yet nothing like those that you now wear.”
The leader’s voice then took on the air of a rendered judgement, as his gaze rose back up to meet theirs.
“As there is much that we do not understand about you, all of you must return with us to our village. You have not yet been found to be enemies, and as such, you will be treated as guests, with honor. You will receive food and shelter in our village, but you may not travel free until the Council says that you can do so.”
His eyes narrowed to a penetrating glare, the lines on his face becoming as rigid as stone. “But if you are liars about your purpose and allegiances, you will not walk alive from these woods.”
Logan had no doubts at all that the leader and his surrounding warriors could fulfill that grim pronouncement quite capably, and swiftly.
The leader looked off towards the west, as if he was taking momentary notice of the distant, marching army. The rumbles were not entirely gone, though the very faint sensations had dwindled to the brink of becoming completely imperceptible.
“You shall walk with us, as we must go from here now,” the leader stated firmly, turning back to them.
He gestured for Logan and the others to approach him, as the full group of warriors gathered closer together, in apparent readiness to move onward.
“I am called Ayenwatha,” he introduced himself. “And know that you are considered guests of the Onan tribe, one of the tribes of the Five Realms of the Sacred Fire.”
At a signal from Ayenwatha, the combined group then moved out, proceeding deeper into the forest towards the east. Logan was simply glad that they were heading away from the direction where the marching army had been, relieved to be putting some distance between his group and the massive force.
The ground underfoot finally carried no more traces of the army, and the tranquil sounds of the living forest filled the air once again. The wind flowed through the leaves of the trees overhead, creating brief openings that sprinkled rays of sunlight onto the lower growths, which were inundated with snowy white flowers. Had circumstances been otherwise, Logan would have rapidly found himself taken in by the timeless serenity reigning all around him.
Ayenwatha remained close to where Logan walked alongside Janus, just ahead of their other five companions. Logan chanced a look back towards the others. None looked to be the worse for wear. He exchanged a glance with Antonio, who gave him a rueful grin.
Logan discovered that each of the seven members of his group had a tribal warrior striding close behind them, as they traveled in a loose column through the woods. The implications were clear enough. The seven might well be considered guests, but their escorts were taking no chances.
He was not about to do anything to provoke the black and red painted warriors. He had already espied some grisly mementos being carried by a few of them. Bloodied swathes of skin, with locks of hair still attached, hung from the hide belts of those that bore them along.
Logan had a fairly good idea of what it meant to be considered as an enemy of the tribal warriors.
JANUS
The leader of the band of warriors gradually eased into open conversation with Janus and the others as they continued forth through the sprawling forest. Janus listened with great interest to Ayenwatha’s words, hoping to learn a little bit more about the lands within the new world around him.
Their new host, Ayenwatha, was a war leader within his Onan tribe, referred to among his people as a war sachem. The Onan, in turn, were part of a broader alliance of five great tribes.
That alliance, called the Five Realms, had come together for common protection and fellowship long ago, under the guidance of a very wise individual, named Deganawida, who was deeply revered by all the tribes.
Ayenwatha also informed them that he was of the Firaken clan, reflecting no small amount of pride in his expression and voice. Though Janus did not have the first idea as to what a Firaken was, or what it meant to be in such a clan, he could sense that clan affiliation was a very important element of the tribal society.
Janus was also able to glean more about the enigmatic figure known as the Unifier. Ayenwatha’s tone was little different than that of the old wanderer when he was speaking of the highly mysterious Unifier.
There was no mistaking the bitter hatred that Ayenwatha felt towards the Unifier, an animosity that clearly reflected the feelings of all the tribal warriors. To Ayenwatha’s knowledge, the Five Realms were one of the few civilizations remaining in the whole known world that still remained openly opposed to the Unifier.
Ayenwatha related that a state of war had recently arisen between the Five Realms and the followers of the Unifier, who would accept nothing less than the utter submission of his people. The Five Realms had long before rejected the Unifier’s overtures to seek the tribes’ loyalty to Him, which Ayenwatha described as a tacit demand to submit fully to the Unifier’s authority.
A stark, more overtly worded demand recently delivered to the tribes had been refused outright by their Grand Council. It was a fateful rejection, which the tribal sachems had known would likely conjure up a violent, raging storm upon their own people.
As luck would have it, Janus and his companions had come into the tribal lands just as those storm clouds were building to the verge of bursting. That fully explained the extreme caution displayed by the warriors when they had emerged to confront Janus’ group.
Ayenwatha informed Janus and the others that his Onan war party had been shadowing the army that they had witnessed from the edge of the forest.
The large force’s appearance along their borders, Ayenwatha believed, wa
s the sign that an invasion was imminent. Ayenwatha surmised that the force was making its way towards a position central to the westernmost borders of the tribal lands, a place that also afforded access to ample amounts of fresh water in the forms of a sizeable lake and attendant streams.
According to Ayenwatha, it was an ideal locale for a massive number of warriors and animals, putting the enemy force in an advantageous position where they were well-poised to cleave through the heart of the tribal lands.
Janus learned that the bordering kingdom where this force had mustered and come from was called Gallea. According to Ayenwatha, it was just one of many strong kingdoms that had implicitly submitted their authority to the Unifier.
Janus could tell that Ayenwatha greatly lamented the impending conflict. The war sachem remarked that Gallea had not always shown such outward hostility to his people. Ayenwatha spoke with a very conspicuous sense of wonder about a great Gallean city called Carcasse, which he had once been to in earlier, and more peaceful, times. He described with unmistakable admiration how the city was surrounded with high stone walls, and many prominent towers, filled with traders and guests from all over the Gallean realm and far beyond.
The tribes had until fairly recently enjoyed a steady trade with the Galleans, as there was evidently a large demand in the Gallean markets for beaver furs. In return, the tribes had regularly obtained many iron implements, such as cooking pots, axe, arrow, and spear heads, and knife blades.
Ayenwatha spoke with outright fascination of other massive, stone-walled fortresses that he had seen on his journeys into the Gallean lands. These were not cities, he explained, but rather where the Gallean sachems, as he called the Gallean leaders, resided with their families.
Ayenwatha held a high and very respectful regard for his tribe’s powerful neighbor. It was obviously a point of considerable distress that Gallea had fully enjoined with the Unifier, enough such that it was gathering its military might to threaten and beset Ayenwatha’s woodland people.
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