Crown of Vengeance fie-1

by Stephen Zimmer

  Aethelstan and his few companions, in their haste to warn the woodsman, had nearly stumbled into the Jaghun-warded demesnes before they had announced themselves.

  Had they blindly entered the demesnes, they would have risked death. Moving like fleeting shadows, the Jaghuns could be on top of the riders before they even were aware of their presence. In a burst of power, their hurtling forms could easily topple the riders, and bring their tremendous jaws to bear upon flesh and bone.

  Aethelstan recognized the features in the terrain that Gunther had been so careful to point out to him just in time. Instinctively, he gripped the horn that hung at his side, but then loosened the grip, as he remembered the admonishment from Gunther earlier.

  The admonishment had not been entirely necessary. Aethelstan knew that it would not be wise to use a horn signal. It would attract the attention of any enemy within hearing range, and put them in a state of full alertness. Aethelstan was not about to endanger the woodsman, especially when he had come to warn him.

  Yet there was another way to signal, one not so obvious to enemy ears. Aethelstan recollected it quickly enough. He reined Wind Runner to a complete halt, and held up his right hand to his mouth. Hoping that he could still deliver the technique accurately, Aethelstan made a distinctive whistle-call, mimicking a bird cry. The melodious call was from a type of bird that lived in a foreign land, a creature that Aethelstan had never seen or heard himself.

  Its distinctive cry could not be mistaken for any of the birds that dwelled within the forests of Saxany. Aethelstan sat back in the saddle and waited in the wake of the call, listening carefully. There was no immediate answer, and only the swishing of wind through leaves interrupted the encompassing silence.

  After a moment, Aethelstan repeated the sounds again, feeling a little more confident in his delivery. The call raced forth through the sentinel trees, sharply breaking the stillness once again.

  The great thane commanded the Saxan warrior to his right to hold his steed steady and calm, and try not to react to the creatures that Aethelstan knew would be arriving soon. In a low voice he turned to his other side, and repeated the message to the two that were on his left.

  His heartbeat picked up, and he hoped that his signal had not erred due to lack of practice. He had little doubt that the strange creatures of Gunther would come, but his men’s survival depended on that heralding cry.

  As the silence became brooding, a part of him worried that it had been foolish to even take the risk. Yet he had given his word to Gunther that he would try to warn him, if he could see a way to do so. He could not deny that he had such an opportunity, and he intended to see it through. Keeping one’s honor sometimes meant treading the ground of the foolhardy and reckless.

  Aethelstan remained composed as best as he could, knowing full well that the woodsman’s lethal guardians would soon be drawing near. He gently repeated his instructions to his men again, if only to distract himself within the nerve-wracking moments.

  The formidable creatures emerged shortly thereafter, their great, shadowy shapes seeming to take form right from the ebon shadows pooling amid the encompassing trees. Four of the intimidating beasts formed a perimeter around the horsemen, their intelligent eyes glinting in the moonlight as they regarded the riders closely.

  The beasts’ presence, though expected, still rattled Aethelstan’s nerves. The horses nervously whinnied and stamped about, clearly aware of the dangerous nature of the four-legged creatures silently surrounding them.

  “Do not worry, they will not strike,” Aethelstan softly stated.

  His voice was loud enough for those around him to hear, as he sought to dispel the fears in his steed and the accompanying warriors. He gently stroked Wind Runner’s mane, uttering soothing words to calm the horse’s great agitation.

  His attention was drawn towards the companion at his right side, an ardently loyal household warrior named Cerdic. The sight of the huge, predatory beasts had visibly unnerved the stout young man, who normally had a youthful bravado that bordered on recklessness.

  Cerdic was a fierce-hearted warrior who had never shown fear of even the best of fighters in Wessachia, not backing down even when overmatched. Now, the pallor of his skin was ashen and there was a slight tremble to the man’s left hand, as he tightly gripped the reins of his steed.

  His other hand rested on the hilt of his sword, where it had quietly drifted in the interim. His knuckles were already whitening where they were visible underneath the tri-lobed pommel. The man’s eyes were fixated upon the beasts around them. Even as Aethelstan watched, the muscles of Cerdic’s hand flexed, tightening further around the hilt of the sword.

  “The Woodsman has trained them quite well, I give you my word on that, Cerdic… do nothing to provoke the creatures, and you have nothing to fear,” Aethelstan told him.

  While each passing, tense moment seemed to last an eternity, in truth the Saxans did not have to wait for long before a human figure finally emerged from the depths of the tree-cast shadows. The sight of the tall, broad-shouldered figure was an instant comfort to Aethelstan’s fraying nerves.

  “Aethelstan, it is indeed fortunate that I have prepared my friends as well as I have,” the Woodsman remarked with a hint of humor to his voice, speaking in a casual manner. Though uttered in a decidedly more lighthearted and confident manner, the sentiments confirmed the Saxan thane’s assurances to his household warriors.

  Gunther strode forward out of the darkness, his features becoming clearer in a swathe of moonlight pouring through a wider opening in the branches overhead.

  The Jaghun nearest to the woodsman padded up from behind, and stood alongside of him, its eyes remaining honed upon the mounted warriors. Its tongue lolled about as it panted lightly, the array of shiny, sharp teeth within its broad jaws reflecting the moonlight.

  “It is also good that you remember my instructions well, and that you have retained some skill in them,” Gunther stated approvingly. “You mimic the Emperor’s Songbird of Theonia more than adequately. Someday you should see and hear that magnificent little bird for yourself, and you will know that I speak truly. You are to be congratulated.”

  Gunther looked about at the gathering of Jaghuns still surrounding the horsemen, and called out emphatically, “Friends!”

  Immediately, the inhuman companions of Gunther relaxed their postures, two even going so far as to settle down upon the ground. Despite the loosened appearances, Aethelstan did not overlook the fact that they continued to keep a casual eye upon the Saxans, always remaining on some level of wariness on behalf their master and friend.

  Gunther walked forward to stand before Aethelstan and his steed. The great stallion shifted about a little before settling down itself, not quite as assured as its own master with respect to the woodsman’s control over his beasts.

  “What brings you here, at this later hour of the night?” His eyes darted among Aethelstan’s companions, before returning again to the Saxan thane. Even in the dimness, Aethelstan knew that the woodsman could not fail to see the signs of stress and fatigue chiseled into their faces. Gunther’s next words reflected that. “You look as if you have undertaken a hard ordeal. I would guess that you did not come here to bring me good tidings.”

  Aethelstan nodded gravely, his face shrouded with a look of dire concern. “I regret that again I do not have good words to bring to you, but I desired to keep my promise to you. Even now, my warriors prepare for what is coming, but I have come to warn you. It may be the only warning that you will have. I soon may not be able to reach you, even if it was the only thing that I wished to do.

  “An army of the Unifier’s is approaching through these woods, in great strength. Its passage will almost certainly bring them directly towards your own lands… I see no other path that they might take… and I fear their intentions do not bode well for any that live within our lands.”

  Gunther echoed Aethelstan’s look of concern, his expression darkening for several strained mome
nts before a quite unexpected grin broke though. The response took Aethelstan by surprise, and the thane did not know what to make of it at first. Yet knowing the woodsman’s personality and disposition, Aethelstan came to recognize the sarcastic irony that was laced throughout Gunther’s expression.

  “The Unifier’s army coming right through here, you say? Seems that I cannot keep to myself, no matter how hard I may try, or how far I run,” Gunther remarked, shaking his head ruefully.

  “I have traveled through the world to find my own peace… and now they send an entire army to disturb it… Nonetheless, they can get me only if they find me,” he then said with a wink upon his last words. His mouth then straightened, and his next words were spoken in full sincerity, “You have my true gratitude, Thane Aethelstan. I would not have thought ill of you, if you had chosen to remain with your men.

  “It is not wise for you to risk yourself to warn me… though you chose to do so. The Saxans need your presence far more than one recluse in the woods. I only hope that I am someday able to justify such a risk, in a time and place that neither you nor I yet know about. You kept your word. It is the measure of a man, and I thank you for it. Such as this is what keeps me from surrender in this world.”

  Aethelstan nodded, though taken somewhat aback at the outpouring of open sentiments from the usually fiery, and adamantly solitary, woodsman. “Indeed, you are welcome, Gunther. I would have it no other way. I wish with all my heart that I was coming here to simply share conversation, and perhaps a hunt with you. I hope that a day may come when we can do so without worry… if you would suffer a guest for more than a few hours.” He could not stifle a chuckle as he thought of the eremitic nature of the woodsman, and the momentous request that an extended visit would be.

  “I should also like to try some of the mead from this area, from that village woman that you spoke of. I have no doubt that is one item that you trade for,” Aethelstan added, with another amiable chuckle. “For now, I must proceed onward, to begin to prepare the defenses against this imminent threat. I assure you that we will meet the enemy with force, though to what end I do not yet know.”

  Gunther reached upward and clasped the other’s forearm firmly. “I would certainly interrupt my little hermitage for a few hours, nay for a few days, to share your company. May the All-Father keep you strong, Aethelstan.”

  “What will be, will be, Woodsman. Though we can always choose to hold the path of honor… That, at least, is given to our own power. May the All-Father in his mercy and grace give you strength, and protect you in the days to come,” Aethelstan replied, sharing the moment of mutual, sincere respect with the tall woodsman.

  Though he knew little of the past of the mysterious denizen of the deep woods, Aethelstan knew in his heart that the woodsman was more than worth the risks that he had courted in having kept his word. Aethelstan’s warning might well help Gunther to survive for some greater purpose still yet to come. Father Wilfrid had always stated to Aethelstan that the All-Father’s ways were a mystery, and that the most unlikely of individuals were often called forth in dire times. Whether or not such a thing applied to Gunther, Aethelstan had no regrets that he had come.

  Straightening up in his saddle, Aethelstan gestured to his companions, and nudged his horse to turn about. The horses continued to eye Gunther’s Jaghuns nervously, skittish in their mere presence, but the beasts made no move to impede their passage.

  The one in their path immediately behind them stood up and loped quietly away, keeping a wide berth as it cleared the passage before the Saxans’ horses.

  Gunther and the Jaghuns watched until Aethelstan was gone into the night, the soft clopping of the horses’ hooves finally fading out as they made their way back towards the Saxan encampment.

  Aethelstan did not see the woodsman break out into a run, accompanied by his Jaghuns, as Gunther hurried in the direction of his dwelling.

  GUNTHER

  “Stay? With an army approaching here?” Ryan exclaimed in exasperation, shaken out of his drowsiness after listening to the first alarming words from Gunther upon the woodsman’s return.

  No matter how intimidating or formidable Gunther might have appeared to them, Ryan had not hesitated in his blunt response. From what Gunther could tell in looking upon their faces, the youth had adequately expressed the sentiments of the entire group.

  The other three had shuffled into the first floor room just behind Ryan, having also been roused abruptly from sleep. They had only recently gotten settled down to rest, probably with the hopes of finally getting a full night of undisturbed repose. Still half-asleep, they had trudged down the wooden stairs to the main room, gathering close around Gunther with inquisitive looks.

  Those looks had swiftly become pensive, even a little fearful, as their heads cleared swiftly. It was evident that they perceived that something was very amiss. Gunther had then related to them the troubling news from Aethelstan. His mood was anything but pleasant as he conveyed the tidings.

  So much was running through his head as he spoke. He was a formidable warrior in his own right. The recognition of that was not born of any hubris, but simply of honest assessment. His well-trained Jaghuns made him a capable entity within the woodlands, but definitely not for the likes of an entire army.

  In the face of the looming threat, there was one option that seemed clear enough. It was the one choice that would allow him to remain close, without becoming embroiled in the futile affairs of humankind again. It was a spark of hope, even if the idea was rather unprecedented, and not altogether certain of success.

  As that idea coalesced, he had announced that they were not leaving, drawing the incredulous response from Ryan. It was quickly followed.

  “What kind of plan is that?” Lynn stammered, clearly sharing Ryan’s feelings. “They’ll just flush us out of this deathtrap, and put us all to death. Your creatures out there can’t stop an army. I know you can probably fight anyone out there… one on one… but I know you can’t fight an army off by yourself… not unless you are some kind of god we don’t know about. If you are, it would help if you would tell us.”

  Gunther nodded, his face showing his increasing irritation at having been so abrasively interrupted by Ryan and challenged by Lynn. He worked to keep his voice controlled, having some sympathy for their exasperation. “I know that I cannot stop an army. I may be many things, but I am not unrealistic,” he stated slowly. “If you would let me finish, you would see that I am not planning to stay in this building. I am just planning to stay in these lands. We are far from being trapped. Have you forgotten the door so soon?”

  He gestured sternly towards the large, wooden door at the rear of the room. All four pairs of eyes followed, and stared towards the iron-banded slab of wooden planks.

  “It is time for you to find out about that door, and what lies beyond it, though I certainly had no idea that it would be under these circumstances,” Gunther added gruffly.

  Erin asked tentatively. “You mean… the Unguhur?”

  “Yes. An underground world, and one that even a small army would not wish to encounter,” Gunther retorted curtly, and confidently, the idea seeming better with every second. “The passage beyond that door goes into the depths of the world. You will be quite safe there.”

  “Won’t the enemies just follow us down?” Lee asked.

  “It would be a great and terrible mistake for them to do so,” Gunther stated firmly, with a dark expression spreading upon his face as he considered the consequences. “But we will go down there only if we truly must… when we truly must. Until then, we stay up here. Maybe there is a chance that this storm will pass us by, or dissipate before breaking upon this area.”

  He quietly studied the faces of the four strangers.

  They were taking the somber news with a dismayed silence. Their all-too-brief respite from the trials and travails of the new world was over, and Gunther could not fault them for feeling great frustration and resentments.

  Gunth
er watched Lee look sadly over to his companions, from Ryan, to Erin, and then finally to Lynn. All of them had beaten, weary expressions, and the glances that they shared amongst each other confirmed his evaluation.

  They were exhausted, and not just in a physical sense. There was little that Gunther could do for them except to steel them as much as possible for whatever might come.

  “I am sorry… very sorry,” Gunther then said to them, in a low and gentle voice.

  LOGAN

  Walking slowly past the broken segments of palisade at the entrance, Logan, in a brooding silence, looked around at what remained of the village. He was not alone, as many had begun to return to The Place of Far Seeing to search through its ruins.

  Others from villages in the near vicinity had begun to arrive. For the most part, they were fellow members of the Onan tribe, some of the men with blood ties that resided in other villages due to a marriage. Logan’s gut clenched as he saw the shocked, horrified looks sprout upon their faces, as the new arrivals set their eyes for the first time upon the interior of the village.

  The morning’s light had arrived following the devastating events of the previous evening. Instead of bringing a sense of hope, it nakedly revealed the full extent of the monstrous horrors that had been mercifully hidden by the night’s shrouding darkness. The sources of countless miseries, shattered dreams, and heavy burdens were brought into the unyielding light of that pitiless dawn. The destruction was spread everywhere that anyone could possibly look.

  The crushed, collapsed shambles of former longhouses now littered the village interior. Gaping holes had been ripped in the sides of short segments that were still erect, though much had been consumed by the sporadic fires that had been loosed by the sprawling violence.

  Numerous bodies lay amid the wreckage, still awaiting removal. The rubble from the boulders that had been dropped down upon them in the night was strewn everywhere, from large, jagged chunks to smaller fragments, whose sharp edges made Logan careful about where he stepped.