Ogre's Passing

by Paul Melniczek

  The rain fell in fat droplets from the invisible heights above, splattering off the green, leafy branches of the mixed hardwood trees enveloping them. Sarion struggled to maintain a sense of their general direction, but the conditions were deteriorating swiftly. Soon, the jungle canopy glittered eerily as lightning flashes seared the evening sky. Several of the warriors had already lighted their lanterns, and Chertron glanced uneasily over at Sarion.

  Without speaking, Sarion nodded his head, gesturing to the woods which lay before them. He felt a sense of dread, although he couldn't locate the source, or any reason for his disquiet, but he had learned at an early age to trust his instincts, and his were exceptional. The storm raged overhead, great claps of thunder now bellowing through the trees. The rainfall was coming down harder, and the horses lifted their hooves higher as the already soft ground transformed into a mud pit, marked with small rocks, dead leaves, and scattered twigs poking out of the soil like the crooked hands of diminutive creatures. The warriors were clothed in hunting cloaks, the finest available in Trencit, but nothing could entirely keep the moisture from seeping through, soaking them all to the skin.

  The jungle was silent -- no insect or animal called out, or moved nearby as the rain overwhelmed everything. There had been little change in the gloom the day long, but now, as nightfall descended, the blanket of darkness consumed the half-light, throwing the Lowlands into blackness. The lanterns were water-proof, and the fighters appeared as a line of forsaken will-o-wisps, riding along in the inhospitable terrain. Sarion listened to the peals of thunder rumbling in the heavens, and at times a single loud crash would echo through the forest, fading within a few seconds. As they continued, he grew increasingly nervous about the sound, which now stood out above the background thunder in its intensity.

  Sarion pursed his lips together, soon realizing that the noise did not originate from the storm at all -- it was coming from the forest floor, somewhere in the distance, but drawing nearer. It was a tremendous booming, as of something large making its way through the trees. He knew instantly that it was something very huge, and extremely dangerous. Was he the only one to notice? He peered over at Chertron, but the warrior rode with his head bowed, eyes alert to the trees and bushes ahead of them, apparently oblivious to the approaching threat.

  Sarion looked back, reining in his horse. Forlern halted as well, reading the concern in Sarion's face. The warriors had long ago come to respect Sarion without hesitation, and Forlern's hand immediately went to the haft of his sword.

  "What is it?" Chertron hissed over to him, his voice muffled by the folds of his cloak. The company held their steeds at bay, and Grundel trotted forward. Even through the drenching rain and relentless thunder, Sarion clearly heard the noise, which would cease for long moments before picking up again.

  "Listen." He held up his hand, gesturing as the noise sounded, ominous and dreadful in the distance. "Do you hear it? It's not from the storm -- something comes."

  The captain's face was grave, and he gave a light nod of recognition. "I hear it, although I thought it was the storm at first, but you're right. It's from the forest, but from what direction..."

  His words abruptly ended as another crash was heard, loud and powerful. The horses grew restless, nickering about in agitation. "Muffle the beasts," he commanded. "They can't give us away."

  The men acted at once, pulling out the soft leather straps to quiet the animals. The creatures were invaluable to the group, considering all the distance they had so far traveled, although at times they needed to be silenced for fear of attracting unwanted attention. Sarion perched high on his own horse after securing the muzzle, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. After waiting over a minute, he heard the sound twice, and decided it was coming from behind them.

  "We're being hunted." Sarion's face was grim, but certain, as he spoke the chilling words. "Something picked up our scent, or trail, after we left the region of high trees, tracking us even through the rain and mud." He looked around. The warriors were ready for battle, and many of them held weapons in their grips, but also Sarion read the terror in some of their faces, the haunted gazes, and knew that they had to escape whatever was stalking them. Tired and on the run, they were in no condition for a battle in the darkness. The approaching beast had to be formidable, and he hoped it was not one of the stronger predators of the Lowlands, but in his heart he had a sinking feeling that it was exactly that.

  "Let's move, keeping in this direction." Grundel thrust his hand forward, balled into a tight fist, the other hand holding the horse in check. "We stop for nothing until we lose the beast. With luck, our trail will be washed away, or confused from this abominable weather. Rundin, keep a close watch behind, and stay near. I want everyone to ride together. To separate in here means death. Go!"

  He had to shout so the men could hear his words above the enraged storm. Trees whipped and cracked, and branches began dropping heavily to the ground, some of them striking the warriors. The booming sound still continued, and Sarion doubted that the creature would be so easily lost. The hunters of Grammore relied on finely-developed senses, of sight, smell, and hearing. If it had followed them this far, it would have little difficulty in continuing after them. The men urged their steeds onward, and Grundel called for a brisk pace. Sarion knew the hazards of moving swiftly through the jungle, but the greater risk was evident behind them. They would have to take the chance that the rain and approach of the unseen predator would deter any other marauders from attacking.

  It was a nightmarish flight. The horses breathed raggedly, straining through the muzzles, steam pouring forth and curling around their heads. The riders were trying desperately to see through the mist and rain, but the entire forest was shrouded in a thick, billowing fog. The storm seemed to be intensifying even more, and great rumbles of thunder shook the very earth, lightning snaking between the trees and casting the woods in brief sparks of white illumination. In these scant moments, the jungle was electrified, and Sarion used the opportunity to scan his surroundings. At one point, he looked to his left and gasped in surprise.

  A huge creature stood upright, crouched behind a vine-strangled oak. Its hide was shaggy, long, trailing tufts of hair covering its entire body, as if it had grown up from the mossy ground. The face was small, with two black openings for eye slots, lacking ears or nose. A thin line creased the lower part of the head, and the rest of its features remained obscured as the lightning dimmed.

  It made no move against the men, but stood with head tilted, facing towards the direction where the warriors had come from. Shambling off into the shadows, the creature vanished as quickly as it appeared. The men rode past it, all of them unaware of its presence except for Sarion. The creature had looked deadly, standing at least a dozen feet high, its hair camouflaged within the trunks and moss.

  Sarion knew that the strange beast was more concerned with what was approaching, just as they were, choosing to escape instead of attacking. As startled as he was by the unexpected vision of the thing, he was much more anxious about the unknown pursuer. For something as large as the weird creature appeared to be, it had disappeared quickly into the wilderness, and Sarion shivered, trying to imagine what was hunting them.

  He didn't want to think about it. A battle in the dark and rain, against something fierce enough to scare away other larger predators, was too much for them to challenge. Flight was their only chance, and a grim one at that. The fighters were weary, suffering from a lack of sleep, warmth, and plagued by the constant terror of Grammore, which was like a hangman's noose, squeezing them ever-so-slowly, bearing down upon their collective endurance and determination. The minutes dragged by, the horses picking their way carefully through the thickets and dead wood, sloshing through patches of mud and small pebbles.

  Sarion and Chertron were still riding in brisk stride as the woods unexpectedly gave way, and the two trackers were surprised at the sudden change in terrain. A river lay before them, the far shore invisible in t
he murkiness, the waters brown and swollen from the heavy rainfall. Branches floated along the surface, carried away by the current, fading from view as quickly as they appeared. The fog curled above the river in a swirling haze, and the other warriors came forward, Rundin dropping back in the woods to listen for sounds of the inevitable pursuit.

  Grundel stared deeply into Sarion's eyes, the unspoken thought plaguing both their hearts. There wasn't any way of knowing how far off the opposite shore sat, or even the depth of the angry waters. A loud crash echoed from behind them -- the loudest they had heard. The thing was closing swiftly, moving with amazing speed through the undergrowth. It would be upon them within a few minutes, and they were faced with an unpleasant choice. Sarion decided immediately their course of action. They could not face whatever pursued them. He glanced sideways at the captain.

  "We have no other option. The beast is nearly upon us. The river must be attempted."

  Grundel nodded. "Secure your packs and weapons, we must hope the water is not too deep or too swift."

  "And let's hope we're not heading into a watery grave," answered Forlern beneath his breath.

  ***

  Areck headed into the woods after Rundin, and the fighters prepared to enter the river. The current flowed to their left, in a westerly direction, and deeper into Grammore. Sarion was moving, leading his horse into the waters, and finding the current alarmingly strong already. It would take a tremendous stroke of luck for them to pass unharmed and without mishap, and he made certain his belongings were strapped tight.

  "Do you think there be water beasts living here?" Cerestin passed alongside of him, and Sarion fell silent at the man's words. It was a terrible thought, but he couldn't offer any comfort to the grim-faced warrior.

  "Let's not think such black things. I believe it flows too swiftly for it to hide anything dangerous, but have a care. Evil lodges where it may. Watch your steed."

  The men were up to their knees in the river, pushing steadily downstream and across at the same time. The others entered, with Rundin and Areck bringing up the rear. The horses seemed to be all right, their war training coming to light, unafraid of water and able to swim strongly if necessary.

  The river felt cool, the sensation not altogether unpleasant. The rain hammered full force into the churning waters, and the sky crackled with lightning spears. Occasionally a particularly strong one would strike nearby, startling man and horse alike. The noise from their pursuer continued to grow louder and more frequent, and Sarion knew that the creature was excited, knowing its quarry was near. How ironic, he thought. The company had entered Grammore as the hunters, chasing the trail of the elusive ogre, but had increasingly become prey themselves to the horrors dwelling in the Lowlands. Men were severely outmatched against the much larger and stronger natives of the wilderland, and only a combination of their tracking and survival skills had brought them this far. Fortune had been on their side many times as well, and Sarion did not like to rely on luck -- it would not always prove to be so generous. The faces of the fallen warriors passed before his gaze, spectral and sad, reminding him of those who had not been so fortunate in their quest.

  He shrugged aside such dismal thoughts, concentrating on keeping his balance and guiding his horse, which was moving with little difficulty. He praised the breeding of the species as well as its training, knowing that they were among the finest to be found anywhere. They had drifted a good distance downstream and away from shore but were still only about three dozen yards from the bank. The bottom of the river was gravely, and they were able to secure decent footing. If it had been soft muck, the going would have been extremely hazardous and Sarion dared not think of what might have happened.

  The men were in a fairly close circle, staying together and remaining alert. The storm raged furiously overhead, the wind blowing with gale-like force. Sarion could not have imagined a worse scenario. The booming sound blasted from just off the shore and he realized the creature was trying to pinpoint their location. The wind screamed, and they were picking up speed, carried in the formidable current and struggling to keep from dipping under.

  The water lapped over their chests now, and the horses were swimming alongside them, their powerful legs thrusting them onward. The fog descended like a vast blanket of gray, neither shore visible. They were in a vulnerable position, especially if the river dropped significantly, or the current continued to increase. After a few short minutes, they had put a fair amount of distance between themselves and the bank, but were growing tired, their bodies reaching the limits of their endurance. Another crash came from upstream, and Sarion watched his companions, knowing they wouldn't make it much further in the rising current. Suddenly a dark shape appeared from the gloom, and Sarion felt a glimmer of hope. An island lay before them, maybe thirty yards from their position.

  "Captain Grundel," he gasped. "Head for the island, it's our only chance."

  He shouted to be heard above the clamor of the river and the storm, and the captain waved an arm in a gesture of recognition, a short distance behind him. Chertron surged ahead with his horse, gaining momentum as the current arced before nearing the island, and Sarion followed his lead. They splashed ahead, the water growing shallower and the force of the current receding as they walked knee deep, leaving the main part of the river behind them.

  The warriors emerged from the waters intact, if weary and soaked, the horses appearing unharmed. The island was covered in thick brush and scraggy trees, several yards wide and the length shrouded in mist. The banks were at a slight angle, but the animals had no difficulty ascending the incline. Rundin was the last one to step on shore, and he motioned the others to move deeper into the brush.

  "Something was making a lot of noise before we drew nigh to the island. I'm unsure if the river thwarted our pursuer, but it has made no attempt to conceal its presence ever since picking up our trail."

  Grundel said "Maybe its size will act against it here, not wishing to try and cross after us. The water will have extinguished all scent of our passing, for sure. And it can't be certain of our direction regardless."

  "All unknown factors." Sarion walked in front of them, turning his head to respond. "If the thing is highly intelligent, it will undoubtedly know that we couldn't force our way upstream in such a short span of time. Also, if it's familiar with the territory, it might even know all the shallower channels, crossing at will. We also cannot comprehend its sense of smell, maybe a small trace of us can still be found. Too many questions."

  "Sarion, you never fail to make me rethink all my schemes and assumptions, as well as increasing my own uncertainties." Grundel frowned, while Rundin looked behind his shoulder nervously, adding " I fervently hope you're wrong on all accounts."

  "Well, right or wrong, we make a stand here." The captain's voice was confident, brimming with leadership and determination. "The men are near exhaustion, and we all need food and dry clothes. I wish this blasted rain would let up."

  Sarion stared upwards as another shard of lightning streaked across the air, giving the landscape an eerie look. The burdens of the journey weighed heavily upon his heart and limbs, and he trudged along behind Areck's tired frame, wondering how it would all end.

  ***

  The rain ended sometime after midnight, although it was impossible to be sure what hour it was in the perpetual gloom of Grammore. The men huddled close together, unable to light a fire and draw notice to their position. It would have been unlikely in any case, in the drenching downpour, although the lanterns remained waterproof for limited lighting if needed.

  The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, and Sarion believed they had finally shaken off their pursuit. He thought the creature might have searched the shores of the river for a while, prying about for signs of their passage. Something as large as what pursued them would have great need for a constant supply of prey, and couldn't waste time on something as elusive as their group. He was thankful they hadn't been forced to fight against it, their
chances would have been slim. Whatever manner of creature it was, there could be no doubt it would have been a disastrous event.

  The morning eventually arrived, drier but remaining dusky. The mist rolled along the edges of the island, billowing towards the far shores, both of which were invisible. Grundel decided to wait until late morning before attempting the waters, no one looking forward to immersing themselves again.

  "Captain, another thought for our next move." Sarion drew near, his face excited.

  "I'm listening. Not very eager for another swim myself, but we can't stay here too much longer."

  "My plan calls for exactly that, though."

  "Let's hear it."

  "There is plenty of wood here, sturdy vines, spare rope. We'll fasten logs together, creating makeshift rafts. We can at least keep our supplies dry for the next crossing, and have something to hold onto, in case the river is deeper on the opposite side."

  Grundel paused. "Hmm, that's a good idea. Give us some additional leverage. It was becoming dangerous before we breached the island. This way, we can use the rafts to lighten our burdens. I'll have the others start immediately, and take the watch. Have at it."

  They both stood, going about the task at hand. The fighters were rested, although stiff and miserable. They were also eager for action, and this helped distract their wandering imaginations from blacker thoughts.

  Several hours later they had completed enough small rafts to assist them when they crossed the river once more. They prepared to enter the swollen turbulence, the far side appearing swifter and deeper. "When we gain the opposite side, immediately take up fighting stances, Chertron and Sarion foremost, while the others untie our belongings. Move in." Grundel gave the signal to advance, and the fighters pushed the logs into the river, the horses at their sides.

  Man and beast waded into the gravelly shallows, trying to maintain their balance. It was fortunate they had made the rafts, because the going was even more difficult this time. They floated downstream several dozen yards, and moved further into the current. Shortly, they were beyond sight of the island, and the far shore loomed in the distance across the wide channel. In waters up to their chest, the fighters gasped and splashed, forcing themselves against the strong flow and keeping tight grip on the reins of their steeds.