Sarion turned around, looking back at Forlern, who rode in front of the captain, his shifty eyes peering at the surrounding thickets. He was the youngest in the company, but had served exceptionally in the recent wars in the east, Grundel had told him. A longbow was strapped to his back, along with a sword, and twin daggers were pouched on each side. His mastery with numerous weapons made the dark haired man a valuable addition to the company, and Sarion recalled the look on Forlern's face when the ogre had attacked. Not surprise, or fear, like the other men, but almost an eagerness for battle, to test his skills. He had been the one assigned to guard the horses while the others fought, but Sarion had read the disappointment in the man's face after the skirmish.
Forlern had craved a fight with the ogre -- Sarion was sure of it, and he wondered how such a confrontation would affect the man, when and if it occurred. Self-assurance was one thing, but recklessness had serious consequences for all of them. But still, the fighter possessed an aura of confidence that was striking.
Sarion started, turning his head to the side, and he spoke to Chertron, the company halting behind them. The men quieted their horses without being told. Moments later after conferring with Sarion, Chertron dismounted and approached the captain.
"What is it?" Grundel whispered.
"Sarion heard noises -- in the vale below, not far off." The captain's eyes narrowed.
"Our quarry perhaps?"
Chertron looked uncertain as he looked up at the captain. "He heard several cries, but doesn't believe they were human. Some type of beast, he thinks."
"That is certainly reason for concern then. Come with me, I'll share the lead now." Grundel pushed his steed forward, with Chertron in tow.
Sarion had left his own horse and now peered down the brink of a steep ravine, the slope clustered with mixed oak, maple, and tall ash trees. Small rocks were scattered along the cliff, some in large clusters, others jutting out in wicked points. The forest below was hidden as the evening grew darker, and the day would soon be lost in shadows as a premature twilight descended. Heavy drops of rain splattered onto the branches above, and every man was wet and uncomfortable.
"Sarion, what..."
"Listen." Sarion held up a hand. "Down there."
The three men gazed into the vale, at first hearing nothing. Then a short yell pierced the air and Grundel's face turned sharp. Again the noise rang out, a howl of unknown origin echoing mournfully across the shrouded hollow. They all knew it could not possibly have come from any human lung.
"Any idea what that could be?" Grundel dismounted and leaned next to Sarion, searching his face for a telling reaction. "Is it the ogre?"
Several long moments passed, and Sarion stared down the slope. He turned his head about and looked at the two warriors.
"I'm not sure if the ogre is making the noise, because there are several different sources." He paused. "But one thing I do know." Sarion licked his lips.
"They're coming this way."
***
Grundel was a silent statue, his ears straining for the sound that was sure to come. He soon heard it -- several howls, louder than before. A few of the horses nickered softly, restless from the predatory cries. Even if he doubted his own ears, their instincts were not to be ignored.
"Well, we have a decision to make, captain. Wait here, and confront whatever draws near, or go forward and hope to avoid any unnecessary conflict, but with the knowledge that we may be hunted into the night, perhaps attacked later, and in worse circumstances." Sarion angled his head, a brown hood covering most of his face. "Poor choices either way."
The warriors all wore thick cloaks, trying to keep out the relentless downpour. Made from a weather resistant fabric, the outfits proved remarkably reliable against the adverse conditions, and Sarion had been given a spare as well.
Grundel responded swiftly. "We move on, quickly and quietly. There's a good chance that this rain will wash away our scent, and avert attention to our presence. Let's move."
He gestured to the fighters behind him and returned to his own mount. The pace was slow, but they were careful to avoid sending any loose rocks down the ravine. Sarion veered away from the edge itself, but wished to stay close. It would be much easier to defend against an approaching enemy from their superior height. Occasional howls pierced the air as the company rode on, but they didn't appear to be getting any closer. Grundel remained behind Sarion and Chertron, desiring to confer with the tracker. Sarion had proven his fighting and tracking skills in the few short days of the excursion, and already the warriors regarded him with a healthy respect.
After traveling for over a mile, the captain halted the company. After speaking briefly with Sarion he ordered Rundin and Kalen to stay behind, and report on the prowling creatures. It was risky, but he needed to determine if the group was being hunted. The two warriors did not question the order, understanding the rules of the field all too well. They remained on guard, their unmoving figures vigilant to the surrounding forest as the others went forward.
The terrain grew rougher, with dense thickets cropping up between the large trunks. Sarion kept away from the deeper woods, turning the group always back towards the cliff. To their right, the ravine now became treacherous, and a drop of over a hundred feet awaited anyone unlucky enough to fall. But it also shielded them against attack from that direction. Darkness now covered the countryside, and Sarion informed the captain that they were nearing the peak of the ridges that looked over the Grammore Lowlands.
"Our chances are slim of finding the ogre, but I think you know that by now."
Grundel stared ahead, taking in every shape that loomed out of the night. The rain had slowed considerably, and a sluggish mist rolled out from beneath the eaves of the forest.
"There is always the hope of finding our quarry on the other side of these hills, maybe catch it in the open grassland."
"Who can tell?" replied Sarion. "The land slopes steadily downward, behind the ridge line. The Lowlands begin a few miles below as the ground levels out. There the woods thicken, and in many spots becomes marshy. As I said before, we were further to the north, and didn't venture very deep. No one really knows what lurks inside."
"We'll stop soon -- I want to give Rundin a chance to catch up."
They continued on for a short march before the captain called for a halt. Three warriors went on immediate guard. One ahead, another behind, and a third man at the edge of the bordering forest. Spirits were low as they hunched down against the weather, anticipating the return of Rundin and Chertron.
Time dragged on and the men failed to arrive. The fighters muttered among themselves, worried about their comrades. Ever since the skirmish with the ogre, and the flight from the Killworm, there had been a subtle change in their collective attitude -- they were still confident, strong, and unwavering in their loyalty, but Sarion saw in their eyes what they kept in their hearts -- a growing sense of dread. They were on the edge of a wild and unpredictable hinterland, where nightmares walked the earth and held dominion. It was a daunting reality.
But right now Sarion was more concerned himself with the overdue fighters, and he fidgeted with his weapon. He was about to suggest going back to search for them when light voices carried up from the rear. The warriors appeared through the veil of mist.
"Captain, it took us a bit longer than we thought." Rundin leaped off his horse, handing the reins to Forlern, who was in charge of seeing to the steeds when the company rested.
"Are we being followed? Did you hear more from the creatures in the vale?"
Sarion observed the captain, wet and disheveled like the rest of the men, but somehow his stature was never diminished. Regardless of the circumstance, Grundel was always relaxed, and in control. Sarion was well aware of the fact that when the two spoke, the captain would bring out Sarion's true feeling on things, and gauge reactions that were conveyed by him from more than just the obvious words. He tried to read his emotion, and even his unspoken thoughts. And Sarion wa
s also convinced that the captain knew a lot more than what he'd revealed to him. Sarion couldn't quite bring himself to distrust the man, but there would be a time for answers. Maybe soon...He listened to Rundin.
"We waited, and the howls continued, at times seeming to draw closer, then fading away. The valley was silent for a spell, and we decided to head off. Scarcely did we move on when a new sound wailed in the night." Rundin paused, his face ashen.
"A great bellowing erupted from the vale, followed by the most blood-curdling screams I've ever heard. Something met a horrible end down there -- of that you can be certain."
Sarion's skin crawled at the warrior's description.
Rundin continued, shaking his head. "My guess is that whatever made the first noises confronted a foe that was far greater. Almost as if a pack of wild creatures was on the hunt, and became the hunted themselves . What do you make of that?"
Sarion answered. "Well, it sounded to me also that some beast, or group, was following prey. And maybe you're right, a stronger creature went after the animals. The Lowlands are beyond the ridge, well within hunting distance of predators. It's not out of the question for such creatures to roam these hills. We've already seen this to be true. And many beasts constantly migrate, looking for new grounds. With Grammore, it happens to be the home of things which are extremely dangerous, and unknown to us living within the confines of civilized regions."
Grundel looked at them both. "I can only consider us fortunate to have stayed higher, as the valley below conceals hidden dangers. It is best to avoid such encounters, although we may not always be so fortunate. We will move further ahead. My wish is to put as much distance between us and the hidden lurkers as possible. See to the men, Rundin."
The warrior nodded, and Sarion felt distinctly uncomfortable with their location.
"You know, captain, we have enemies behind and in front of us now. I had hoped to see the land on the eastern side of the Ridgeline safer than this, at least until we reached Grammore, but that wish has proved false. If larger predators are roaming further into the borderlands, then the ogre might be part of a much larger problem."
"That is my fear also," answered Grundel. "Part of my mission is to look into that possibility, regardless of the hazards. That is why I take certain risks, but you no doubt have guessed that already."
The captain packed his own items, and readied for departure. The company soon proceeded on, the visibility limited to a few yards in all directions. Their pace was laborious at times, but both Sarion and Grundel felt the need to push forward.
After a time, it became apparent that they were near the summit of the hill, and Grundel called for them to make camp. The higher elevation would offer more protection during the night, with the lower valleys more accessible to the nocturnal hunters. Sarion sat on first watch with Forlern, his back to a fallen ash tree. An occasional sound would break the silence, but these were the normal sounds of active beasts. Night insects droned in the distance, and birds piped from hidden branches. These noises comforted him, and he knew they were harmless. It was the unusual cries he listened for, ones which announced the approach of something dangerous and unknown. Vigilant, Sarion attuned his senses to the dark forest, trying to become one with the night, although his mind tried to drift on its own accord.
A heaviness crept over his heart at the thought of what the next day might bring.
***
A cheerless dawn greeted the warriors as they broke camp for an early start. The night had proven uneventful. Rundin looked ragged and worn as he walked over to Sarion, who was feeding his horse. "Will the sun smile down on us today, my friend?"
"Not to dim your hopes, but the Grammore Lowlands are as bleak and inhospitable a region as you could ask for." Sarion grinned at the scowl on the man's face. "Now why should such things bother a stalwart fighter like yourself? Burdensome thoughts hinder the acts of an otherwise strong body."
Rundin appeared puzzled, then he let out a throaty laugh, his face rippling with mirth. Some of the other warriors looked over, Sarion noticing several puzzled smiles on the tough faces.
"You've reminded me of something I'd forgotten, Sarion."
"Oh, and what would that be?" Sarion replied, mirroring the man's sudden merriment.
"Humor, laughter. When one is too long in the field, and far from home, it is easy to become acquainted with grim thoughts. Dark notions blacken a true heart if left unfettered. Remind me if I falter again."
Sarion clapped him on the arm. "You have my word, Rundin. And we will certainly need a lot of mirth in the next few days."
The fighter nodded, his smile lessening, but his eyes remaining bright.
Grundel rode over and gestured to Sarion. "Can you tell me what to expect when we breach the hill?"
"Only the unexpected… If you are asking about the layout, then it is somewhat the same on both sides. Woods, and a gradual descent, until we reach the Grammore Lowlands. There might be a few short miles of grassland, then we are faced with a swampy, dense jungle as the climate turns much warmer. Let us keep our wits close by."
He mounted his steed, and the party started off. They struggled over loose rocks and scrub thickets, and the ravine was behind them as they climbed the hill. The trees were less thick, but the sky overhead churned in turmoil, gray and threatening more rain.
Another hour found them at the peak, and the trees suddenly opened up to a rocky clearing. The company stopped as Grundel and Sarion looked out over the country in front of them. A line of ridges jutted up as far as the eye could see, to the south and north, a natural barrier holding down the vastness of wilderness at their footstep, and below, still several miles away, stretched the forbidding edge of the immense and terrible Grammore Lowlands.
It was an ominous sight.
A dense jungle lay before them, hidden beneath a misty shroud, impenetrable and menacing. The entire westland was encased within gloom and vagueness, and they could only guess at the sprawling size of the immeasurable, hazardous wilderness. The warriors stared in mute silence, the old tales of nightmares awakened from childhood memories in many of their minds, pricking at their vulnerabilities, teasing insinuation. Chertron came forward, eyes glazed over by the awesome, horrifying spectacle below.
"It looks evil -- you can almost sense it. The home of nightmares to tell children before bedtime. But it's real, and we're at the doorstep."
Sarion tilted his head in agreement, sharing the man's feeling, and he spoke in low tones. "It's like a huge, black maw, waiting to swallow the unwary. Mysterious and deadly, home to the most fearsome beasts in the world. There is no room for mistake down there -- of that you can be absolutely certain. Creatures roam the Lowlands that are unaware men even exist. To most of them we're just another form of prey for the taking. I don't think I need to remind everyone to be alert, for anything and everything. Sight, sound, or even smell down there. Trust nothing -- listen to your instincts."
"Let's go." Grundel urged his horse forward, with Sarion directly behind him.
Rundin remained at the rear of the group, and Forlern and Chertron came after the leaders, the former warrior scanning the horizon with a look of quiet suspicion, even trepidation. The horses picked their way down the gentle incline, sending tiny fragments of splintered rocks ahead. They seemed to be the only living things on the hill for most of that morning. The piercing shriek of an occasional hawk would scald the air at times, but no other creature came within sight. Overhead, the thunderclouds slowly drifted eastward, and the prospect of rain soon ended. The sky was sullen, a lofty companion to the forsaken country ahead.
By early afternoon, they had left the line of ridges behind, and the ground leveled off, becoming softer and easier to negotiate. It was a good sign for the men, eager to leave the disquieting hills, but Sarion felt the tension as the day wore on. At times he would speak with Grundel, making small observations as to their location, but the captain said little. Sarion questioned him again on his objective, with the
ogre being lost to them, and he answered only that it was still necessary to scout the area.
"But how far into the Lowlands would you have us go? Surely not much past the edge?"
Grundel replied, pausing briefly. "I have my mission -- but need to stay alive too, if that's what you are wondering... No purpose is served if we all perish out here." He grinned wryly. "We go in, try to pick up the ogre's trail without becoming entangled too deeply in the wild. Then quickly get out again in one piece."
The company carried on for the remainder of the afternoon, and they eventually entered a shallow ravine, the bottom filled with brush. Sarion hesitated, finding tracks in the light dirt and gesturing to Chertron. He crouched low to the ground, holding back the others with a wave of his hand. Pacing along a narrow stretch, he came across fresh prints.
"Good fortune again. The ogre passed through here -- the markings are unmistakable. And not too long ago."
"During the day?" Grundel scanned the far rim of the depression, alert eyes missing nothing. "Look, there's something up ahead." He made a curt gesture, and immediately Forlern and Chertron rode forward, weapons held ready. The pair moved toward a figure that lay crumpled on the ground.
"It's dead."
Forlern prodded at the shape with his sword, his clean-shaven face eyeing the carcass suspiciously, his natural look, and Chertron rode further on, in case of a trap.
"I've never seen such a creature, Captain Grundel." Forlern stared back as they approached, his dark eyes unwavering. "It looks like it was dangerous, before meeting its end."
They joined him, examining the remains. On the ground was a lean creature, the body black and covered in a make-shift hide of some unknown animal. The long arms ended in sharp talons, and the feet were similar to a great cat, furred toes with sharpened claws. The most striking feature was its head, though, with brown tufts of hair, long whiskers surrounding a large mouth filled with wicked incisors, and long oval eyes now permanently closed. Ugly wounds covered its torso.
Ogre's Passing Page 6