She started up the hill at quick pace, pulling Hawkeye, who could do nothing but laugh and go along with her. The feast was in full swing by the time they arrived. There was enough wild game cooked for everyone to eat their fill and then some. As everyone began to relax, tales of the battle and of fallen comrades were told and retold around the village bonfire. Two of the most common stories told were the ones of Hawkeye’s incredible shot on the speaker of the Dark Alliance during the attack on Itasca and his daring coup during his duel with Thantos, the Jarl of the Jotens.
Of course, everyone was anxious to hear the stories of his and Midach’s journey through the underground. It wasn’t long before they were coaxed to tell of their journeys. Hawkeye tried to downplay the significance of his journey but when he spoke of his battle with the scorpion-man, everyone cringed. When Midach told of his friends being cooked alive, they cried. As Hawkeye told of the battle of the Dark Sea and the rescue of Midach, they cheered. But when they heard of their meeting with Cassandra, the majestic messenger of Hyperion, they were stunned. Finally, when the two friends were through speaking, everyone was silent.
It was Anasazi who invoked the ancient ritual.
Standing slowly, the old shaman held his hands over the two friends. “We have heard your stories of bravery and death. You have won many friends this night with the courage you have shown in your journey and in the retelling of it to us.”
He gestured to Sun Dancer who had moved up beside him and handed him a small bundle of furs.
Gently, he unwrapped the sacred bundle to reveal a beautiful pipe that was shaped like a bronze tomahawk. Its handle was wrapped with a red cord; in the center of the stem were an eagle’s head and nine feathers hung from the head of the tomahawk.
With the precision of a ceremony long practiced and very important, Anasazi filled the pipe full of tobacco. Lighting it with a small coal from the bonfire, he inhaled deeply. Blowing a puff of smoke skyward, he extended the stem toward the heavens, then towards the ground and then to the four winds; east, west, south and lastly, north. Anasazi began an ancient chant and raised the pipe toward the moon. After a moment, he finished chanting and handed it back to Sun Dancer.
The two friends watched as the young shaman painted the stem red with some sort of berry juice. At a signal from the old shaman, Sun Dancer offered the pipe to Midach.
“A warrior’s mind should be straight. Accept this pipe but remember that if you smoke, your story must be as sure as the bowl in this pipe and as straight as the hole through this stem. If so, your life shall be long and you will survive but if you have spoken falsely, your days are numbered.”
Midach cast a quick glance at Hawkeye but his friend did nothing more than nod to him. Accepting the pipe, he spoke in a loud and clear voice. “I have spoken the truth.”
Even though many dwarves are avid smokers, it was not a habit Midach had ever acquired. He had tried it several times as a youth but it just wasn’t his thing. Although, he realized that this was a very special ritual to the Highlanders and it wasn’t by chance that the pipe was offered to him first. Taking a deep draw on the pipe, he held it for a moment. The warmth of the smoke tickled his throat but he refused to cough. Exhaling deeply, he blew the smoke skyward and pointed the stem toward the heavens, then the ground before following the same pattern that Anasazi had with the pipe; east, west, south and north before handing it back to Sun Dancer.
Anasazi looked at those gathered. They nodded. Looking back at his nephew, he wasn’t surprised when he also nodded. Turning back to Midach, he placed both hands above the dwarf’s head and spoke in a loud voice.
“By the power granted to me by the Great Council of the Highland Nation and its Warlord, I welcome you into our tribe. I name you Darkstalker; for it was through the unending darkness of the underground that you stalked your prey, our elusive warlord.”
Anasazi held out his hand toward Tatianna.
Slowly, she reached up and unfastened one of the two eagle feathers that Red Crow had tied in her hair those many months ago and a murmur went through the crowd. Handing the feather to the ancient shaman, she graced Midach with her beautiful crooked smile.
* * * * *
Midach had no idea what was happening and hadn’t had a chance to ask Hawkeye about it. When the old man tied the eagle feather that had been died red in his hair, the whole gathering went nuts. Everyone was cheering, slapping him on the back and speaking to him in their native language, which he didn’t understand.
Looking around for Hawkeye, he was confronted with three highlanders.
One was a huge bear of a man with intense blue eyes that were the color of a mountain stream. He was dressed in leather pants and tunic that had been dyed blue. The second was only a bit smaller than the first but if possible, seemed more muscular. He had broad shoulders and shoulder length black hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. The third seemed the least intimidating but only when compared to the other two. He was the shortest of the three but still taller than Midach.
All three were smiling and holding huge mugs of some sort of sparkling clear liquid. The bear of a man in blue leathers was holding two mugs and offered one to Midach.
“Welcome to the family Darkstalker. Join us in a drink?”
Midach accepted the mug. “Bluebear! It is good to see you!”
Odovacar turned to his shorter companion. “Why are we always left out?”
Chewda shrugged. “Because that big lug is always in the way; who can see us behind all that mass?”
All four laughed. Midach shook hands with the other two warlords.
“Now….would someone tell me what just happened and why is everyone calling me Darkstalker?”
Nilrem said, “You have been made an honorary member of the Highland Nation; the first dwarf to ever have that honor.”
Odovacar said, “Darkstalker is your tribal name, like Red Eagle for Tatianna or Bluebear for Nilrem.”
“Wow. I’m honored.”
Hawkeye spoke from behind.
“No…it is I who am honored to have you as a friend. I cannot thank you enough for all you have done and lost in my rescue.”
Tatianna leaned down and gave the dwarf a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. Those words don’t seem enough but they are all I have to offer.”
Midach felt himself blush at all the attention he was receiving. “Don’t mention it. I only did what my heart and my god asked of me, nothing more and nothing less.”
“Never-the-less,” Tatianna patted her bulging stomach, “we are forever in your debt.” Turning away, she placed her arm around Hawkeye’s waist. “Now if everyone will excuse us, my husband and I are long overdue for some alone time.”
With a wink and a grin, Hawkeye scooped up his wife and carried her out of the festivities.
The four warriors watched the lovers depart before turning back to their drinks. For the rest of the evening, they forgot all about the impending war or the reality of Midach’s journey home the following morning. For one night, they were just comrades in arms; celebrating life and swapping stories.
* * * * *
Later that night, as the fires began to smolder and die down Hawkeye went for a walk alone.
Tatianna had fallen asleep hours ago along with most of the villagers. Even as tired as he was, Hawkeye was restless. Wandering aimlessly, he made his way through the small village taking in the lay of the land. Sikya was never meant to be anything more than a trading post. The village consisted of a few log hogans and hundreds of tipis spread out across a small valley that was surrounded by the Darkmoor Mountains on three sides. It had no defensive capabilities compared to Itasca and yet, it was here that the remnants of the free Highland Nation found themselves.
After a while, Hawkeye found himself drawn toward the nearby shrine of Luna. It was similar but much smaller than and not as ornate as the shrine where Hawkeye had rescued Tatianna those many months ago. As he entered the ring of white stones, a feeling of peace and love
washed over him.
Slowly he walked around the ring of stones, letting his hands gently caress each pillar. Finally, he knelt down in front of the altar and closed his eyes. He began to chant in a low voice for several minutes. Raising his head, Hawkeye looked up at the crescent moon that hung overhead and spoke softly.
“Luna, the Goddess of my Ancestors and Lady of the Moon, hear my prayer. First, I would like to thank you and the Blessed Sisters for seeing me home. It warms my heart to be among my people once again. However, I know that with the spring thaw the Dark Alliance will attack and my gut tells me I will not survive my next encounter with Blackfang. He reeks of dark magic, as if his heart has been cut out and replaced with the blackness of the void. I believe in my gut. It has never failed me in all these years and if that is my destiny, then so be it, I will embrace it gracefully. I have always been your faithful and loyal servant, yet I humbly ask a small favor.”
Pausing, he swallowed hard. “My only wish is to see my son before I die. This is the small thing I beg of you. Nonetheless, I trust in your greater wisdom and lay my soul in your keeping…now and forever.”
Rising slowly, he walked back to camp and gazed up at the dark sky. Judging from the clouds that were moving in from the north, he knew they were in for a heavy snow.
“Well, at least we will have a couple months of peace. Even Blackfang won’t be able to get his army out in this weather.”
Returning to his lodge, he snuggled up next to his wife for some much needed rest as another snowstorm began its assault on the Highlands.
Chapter 25
Luna looked up from the enchanted pool and studied the faces of her brothers and sisters. She could tell that at least her sister Aurora agreed with Hawkeye’s request; the others she wasn’t so sure about. When no one spoke, Luna broke the silence.
“Everyone knows my vote. I would help Hawkeye with the last of our strength. Therefore, I will not vote. It must be decided between the seven of you. What is your will?”
Minos spoke first. “I say that we do what we can to honor his request. He has never prayed to me but fights with the heart of a minotaur. I am impressed with the honor of this mortal.”
Cheiron shook his head. “Nay, we should let his destiny play itself out. We cannot waste what little powers we have available on Terreth to grant it.”
The centaurian god folded his arms across his chest. “What about all our other followers that still pray to us? We do not help them because we must conserve our powers to combat the Arachne. The same should apply here.”
Steropes stepped back from the pool. “I say let him be. He is a murdering swine and I don’t think we should help him at all!”
The seven other gods glanced at each other, each knew of Steropes’ hatred for Hawkeye. The barbarian warrior was too skilled at killing gnomes for Steropes to ever want to aid him.
Bromios stroked his red beard. “Hawkeye is a dwarf friend and has promised aid to my people should they ever ask. Therefore, I will honor my people’s agreement. We should aid him.” Pausing for a moment he added, “But…only if he truly needs it!”
Hecate nodded her head. “I’m inclined to agree with Cheiron. I think his request is too personal, to self-serving. Therefore, I do not believe we should aid him on such a simple request. It would not be proper.”
That only left Gaul’s vote. The other gods thought they knew what his vote would be; after all Gaul was the father of the Jotens and if there was any race Hawkeye was more skillful at killing than gnomes, it would be the cyclops.
Gaul studied the enchanted pool in front of them; it still showed the image of Hawkeye and Tatianna holding each other as they slept. They looked so peaceful, so happy, like nothing was wrong in the world.
Glancing up, Gaul fixed Luna with his one eye. “We shall aid him.”
Steropes, Chieron and Hecate all exclaimed at once. “What!”
“We shall aid him. He is not the murdering swine that Steropes would have us believe. He is a valiant warrior who only kills when he must and only does what he has been forced to do. Therefore, if it is within our powers, I believe we should allow Hawkeye to see the birth of his son. That is a simple request.”
Luna rewarded Gaul with a warm smile since she realized that was not an easy decision for him to make. Turning away from her brothers and sisters, she moved over to a table nearby to collect a glowing crystal that sat on a silver tipod. They could not see her small smile of satisfaction nor could she let them in on her conspiracy. Picking up the crystal, she turned back and placed the gem in the scrying pool. It floated and filled the pool with a white light.
Reaching out her hands, Luna signaled that everyone should join her.
“We must contact Hodios and let him know of our decision. Besides, we promised Tatianna that we would send whatever aid we could with the spring thaw. It will be up to Hodios to guide the hand of fate to its proper destiny.”
The eight gods joined hands and closed their eyes. They knew by combining their limited powers, they would be able to contact their errant brother, Hodios the Wayfarer…the Master of Mischief.
Chapter 26
It was still bitterly cold a month after Hawkeye returned to Sikya but something in the air foretold the coming of spring. It wasn’t anything in particular but everyone felt it on that fateful morning. Maybe it was the lack of the bone-chilling wind or the lessening of the snow or the first shoots of leaves poking through the deep snow.
Whatever it was, Hawkeye felt the coming of spring and the mixed emotions it carried with the change in the weather.
On one hand, spring was a time to rejoice. Spring was the most wondrous time in the Highlands.
The weather would begin to warm, the hunting would improve, the kids could play outside and love would be in the air. The leaves on the hardwoods would come back, blending their magical colors with those of the evergreens, giving the forests a quite different yet beautiful appearance. The birds and animals would come out of their winter homes to play and hunt filling the forests with joyful sounds.
Spring was indeed the happiest of the seasons.
Yet, it was also the saddest, for it was also the season of war. Normally, it was the time that the young braves would take their tests of manhood, making daring raids on nearby packs or against the brutish cyclops. Some of the braves would die in those raids while most grew into their manhood but that was the way of nature, sometimes called the will of Luna, only the strong will survive.
This spring was an especially sad time for the Highland Nation. They had lost many warriors during the past winter, most due to battle or the wounds inflicted during combat. But a large number of women and children had also died from exposure to the elements or from grief of losing loved ones. The whole Highland Nation now only numbered three thousand strong, a good third of those were the elderly, women and children.
If Hawkeye were to field an army to confront Blackfang and his Dark Alliance, they would only have about fifteen hundred warriors, at best.
The rest would have to stay behind to protect and care for the women and children.
This was the situation that confronted Hawkeye on the morning he awoke to find that spring was in the air. He knew that within several weeks, the weather would be good enough for Blackfang to send out his troops. Experience told him it would take Blackfang’s army at least two, maybe three weeks, to cross the breadth of the Highlands. This meant Hawkeye had at best, seven weeks to ready his defenses and at worst, three weeks.
Rolling over slowly, Hawkeye watched his wife sleep. She was curled up next to him with her right arm and leg draped over him. Gazing at her sleeping form, Hawkeye felt his pulse quicken by her beauty. Even in her sleep she was beautiful, not to say she wasn’t beautiful when she was awake. It was just when Tatianna was sleeping she was free from all the stresses that filled their life, the coming war with Blackfang or any of a hundred other things that confronted them daily. With the growing of their son in her womb, Tatianna had
an unnatural aura about herself that Hawkeye found mesmerizing. He found it to be just one more reason for him to love her. Leaning over, he kissed her gently on her cheek.
Tatianna murmured slightly in her sleep and rolled over.
Moving at a snail’s pace, Hawkeye crawled out from under the heavy sleeping furs. The air still had a bite to it, yet it wasn’t as cold as yesterday or the day before. Pulling on his furs and boots, he stepped out of his lodge. Taking in a deep breath, he could smell the first scents of spring.
‘Yes,’ he thought, ‘it will be an early spring and Blackfang will be here within a month. We will need to be ready.’
Turning back to his lodge, he was about to reenter when a strange scent reached his nose.
Smoke.
It wasn’t a cooking fire but it was definitely smoke. It had a sickly sweet smell to it, kind of reminiscent of the pipe smoke Rjurik was fond of and it was coming from somewhere near the center of camp. That’s when he heard the tinkling sound of metal on metal.
Rushing back inside, Hawkeye grabbed his weapons and sprinted toward the center of camp. Strapping on his weapons as he ran, the pipe smoke grew stronger as did the sounds of movement. Rounding the corner that led into the village center he skidded to a stop. Of all the things he expected or feared to see, what confronted him next was the furthest thing from his mind.
Sitting in front of the village fire, which had been stoked up to a roaring blaze, were twenty stoic knights, a black centaur and two halflings.
Hawkeye took a moment to study these newcomers.
The knights were obviously humans and were wearing shining plate armor covered with a tabard of red, emblazoned with the crest of a black falcon. Most were busy cleaning weapons or tending their well-armored horses that stood patiently nearby. One knight stood off from the rest and was standing near the bonfire. Judging from his movements and mannerisms, Hawkeye surmised that he was a veteran warrior used to the hardships of battle and the leader of the knights. The warrior’s once black hair was streaked with gray and thinning on the top. Dressed in similar plate armor and matching tabard, his armor had obviously seen many battles. Thrown over his shoulder was his shield which bore the crest of a black falcon on a field of blood red. Clutched in the talons of the falcon was a two-headed axe, the symbol of Minos the Mighty; the God of Combat and Honor.
Tales of the Wolf: Book 02 - Enter the Wolf Page 21