The proposed self-destruction aroused vigorous protests from the non-suicidal companions, who were branded by the Nordic warrior as cowards, generating friction and disagreement, which did not auger well for the success of the trip. While the warriors were using vocabulary that was more suitable for brothels of lowest type, Godwin walked with his horse and his armigers, passing through the thick vegetation with reluctance. As the knights saw the once white King disappear between branches and leaves, they were silenced and hurried to join him.
Chapter 18
Tendard and its pitfalls
The air in the tangle of trees smelled of moss and grass. The humidity was so high that the noses of the adventurous soldiers were wet. The men moved with difficulty among the branches, the plates of their armour getting trapped first by a tree and then in a bush. The soft soil with its thick layer of decaying leaves made the pace uncertain, and the warriors often had to grab onto something to avoid falling to the ground. Birdcalls echoed around like the noise of unknown beasts, creaks, growls and grunts alternated with each new meter of forest they passed through.
"The forest doesn't seem bad, apart from the dim light and this overwhelming smell of mushrooms," Franz commented with satisfaction.
"Let's hope you're not mistaken, my knight," replied doubtful King Godwin in his dirty and tattered tunic.
The further they penetrated into the heart of Tendard, the more the forest tightened its coils, as if it were a big boa constrictor, intent on grasping its next meal. The air became heavy and almost rarefied as in the high mountains. Every step taken weighed on the body and morale of the warriors smiting them like boulders. The light greeted the slow procession sadly, making all shrubs, stones and trunks look dark and vague.
Crossing the fords of rivulets that flowed innocuous and sparkling, the company came exhausted to the banks of a clear and calm stream. Its crystal clear, pure waters showed pebbles and boulders lying on the riverbed. The banks were covered in abundant vegetation made up of a soft layer of moss and shaded by stems and leaves, showing all the different variations of green. The tangle of the canopy formed a natural vault. It was so thick that you could not see the stars, which, given the time, would appear in the sky, certainly in vain.
"There is no other way to go on. The stream will provide us with a lullaby with its gentle gurgling," King Godwin exclaimed, pointing to a suitable place for a night bivouac.
"River means life, but this word can also be interpreted as ‘prey’, and prey have a natural appeal for predators," Fulk objected, suggesting they look for a different place.
"It is neither water snakes nor felines of any kind that we should fear. Much worse beings than these can be found among the leaves of the trees. I hope they're not hungry, but in any case we'll stay close together and remain alert," replied the Righteous. Puzzled, looking at the dense black of the trees he then added: "Tactically it is certainly a mistake, but in this horrible place I don't want to stay without any light, so we will light a fire."
No one had a ready answer. Everyone liked the idea of a little warmth on such a cold night. Seeing their King so fearful of the forest touched the men deeply. The welcome move, brought on by the real concern of suffering bestial attacks, left those who knew of the deeds of King Godwin perplexed and restless. The ones who knew his reputation thought he was indomitable, and were inspired by him.
Everyone was woken while it was still dark. It was impossible to have an idea of how long it would be until first light. A nearby tree moved violently, the trunk arched and then returned vertical, like bow after the arrow had been fired.
"A troll," Heinsius exclaimed in a low voice.
"Trolls don't venture among these trees, even though they are very stupid," the Lord of the South spoke sharply, regretfully as he unsheathed his sword.
The fire was stirred up and changed from small yellow dancing flames, that were slow and tired, to a small bonfire, giving flickering light to every blade of grass in the surrounding area. Small twigs fell from just above their heads, followed by fluttering leaves. A creaking noise came before the movement of another slender plant, which bent and was released with a click.
"Whatever it is, it hides in the foliage trying to surprise us!" exclaimed one of the frightened soldiers as he stared at the moving green roof.
"Men, tighten your ranks, let us create a barrier with our shields and hope that the coming demon will not be too difficult for brave mortals," ordered the Righteous.
"Can anyone see anything?" Gotthard asked, bending down and looking.
"There it is! There, in the middle of the trees! It looks like a snake," another soldier cried out, shouting, pointing with his sword to the long tail of a reptile moving quickly through the bushes.
"Tree snakes are not big enough to make a tree bend, nor fast enough to pass from one trunk to another," the old man spoke, his voice breaking with terror.
Slimy, among the long leaves of the green undergrowth, the enemy slipped unseen from a plant and with a lightning-fast move grasped a soldier of Terra right by the head. The poor man crossed his eyes and twisted his neck, and gave the beginning of a powerful scream but it vanished from his mouth, which had been invaded by blood. He crashed to the ground to the bewilderment of his companions. He had a deep hole the size of a finger on the nape of his neck. A few tremors shook the body of the soldier until his soul took leave and only the absence of life remained.
"Helmets! Wear helmets," Sigfred shouted in an almost hysterical tone.
The Lord of the South, wearing his eagle feathers high on his head, approached the fire and took a wooden stick covered in hot flames. Twisting strongly King Godwin threw the stick into the bushes, where he seemed to have seen and heard something move. Born of the forest and of the evil one, the aggressor revealed its misleading features. Covered by multi-coloured glossy green plumage, interspersed with magnificent ruffled red feathers, which were highlighted by a contour of fine blue feathers, a huge snake was curled up on itself. With false shyness he hid his muzzle inside his coils and rhythmically moved his red feathers in an almost hypnotic way.
"What horrible incest could have generated such a creature?" asked amazed Godwin speaking aloud to himself.
"Let's kill that disgusting object," Fulk shouted with an eagerness, which Sigfred echoed: "Knights of Earth, let's free creation from that horrific abomination!
Running to the attack like foolish peasants, the knights of Terra did exactly the wrong thing. The serpent rose from the centre of the coils to about the height of two men. It had a mighty square head, framed by a circle of undulating red feathers, open like the tail of a peacock. No organ of vision could be seen among the mighty scales, only four tapered cuts, like the intimate part of a woman, were busily opening and closing, like the nostrils of a bloodhound. The enormous mouth did not reveal anything until there was a lightning flash that dragged the beast to wrap itself around a soldier crushing him slowly in its coils.
As the immobilized victim screamed, desperately entangled up to his neck in that mortal embrace, his companions came closer to strike. The mighty hammer of Gotthard struck the feathered beast, but the powerful warrior seemed only to have hit a rock. Not even Fulk's sword or the Woodcutter's axe scratched the monstrous snake, intent on fighting with the other soldiers.
The beast aimed its tail at the warriors of Terra sheltering behind their crusader shields. The rolled tail with a long sting had no trouble in piercing the wood and sticking itself into the soldier’s arm. The brave youth wilted in an instant as the wicked toxin was injected, making men seem totally powerless in the face of such an enemy. But the beast had more weapons at its disposal. Its mouth was like a black abyss, full of jagged teeth, lined up in three varying rows, which had a devastating harmful effect on everything that unfortunately came in contact. A first valiant assailant tripped up by the whipping tail, was shredded before their helpless eyes. Meat, steel, bones and blood were minced in the mouth and then filtered and ejected as m
ush from vents behind its jaws.
Godwin struck with fire hoping to find a weak point, but the demon, conceited and aware of its superiority, did not even pretend to defend itself. The man from Terra who had previously been captured by the coils was squeezed so powerfully by feathered being that his eyes splashed out of their orbits. Only when the armour looked like clay held tight in a fist, did the beast slide quickly on a trunk, showing dozens of slender armoured legs, with which it moved quickly, like a centipede.
The Lord of the South drew the attention of the being, but he was so skilful that he was able to dodge the head, which was trying to offer a mortal kiss. The Righteous was able to aim his sword into the blowhole of the beast with great speed, not given to everyone, causing a nervous retreat. The incestuous fruit of a union between a snake and a bird pulled the good King, lifting him up from the ground to a great height, and then dropping him back onto brave Gotthard, the fighter at his side. The Sovereign and the warrior found themselves on the ground amidst the blood and mush of their companions, and both looked at the horrendous mouth hanging over them, falling sinuously from the trees. Both heard the hissing of the being and the stench of putrefaction, dancing before them. The King and the Prince saw with shocked and unbelieving eyes, a small being, similar to a monkey, endowed with an enormous amount of courage taking into account its size. The primate was able to throw himself onto the muzzle of the beast and stop its deadly attack.
What exactly that little being did was not easy to understand, but the demoniacal product created by malignant forces and nature retreated rapidly to the summit of the nearest tree. With the astonished eyes of a child Godwin rose up and was surrounded by small anthropomorphic beings with rough skin and prominent foreheads, swarming all around both bipeds and quadrupeds, nervously controlling the black tree-lined roof, which was by now immobile and mysterious.
Gotthard, slightly injured and very disoriented, asked in amazement:
"But what are they?
"I don't have the slightest idea," was the brief and sincere response that came from the lips of the Righteous.
The minute beings started to become agitated again, as branches and leaves fell once more from the tall branches. The anthropomorphic creatures withdrew rapidly between roots and moss, jumping with agility from a stone to trunk, covered only by moss green mantles used when they squeezed into cracks, hiding themselves. No orders were needed, and all the soldiers, recovering their weapons quickly and furiously, followed the little whistling humanoids. It was immediately clear to King Godwin that those strange creatures were very shy, that they were allergic to any kind of company. For the Righteous the decision was simple and unambiguous: it was better to be on the receiving end of stones and nauseous faecal balls, fetid to the limit of human endurance, than to play the martyred hero with that hidden beast among the foliage.
The little beings spoke a strange language, made up of whistles and clicks. Not a single sound could be translated by Godwin. He was quietly engaged in an attempt to understand anything their saviours could communicate. The rest of the warriors who managed to escape, worried and silent, limited themselves to dodging the sporadic balls, thrown by those strange little beings. A few shaggy hairs grew on their heads. They had no noses, no ears, their big hands with four fingers, identical to their feet, were used for clinging to the branches like the monkeys, like those seen with the traders coming from beyond the Deep Sea. Apart from their mantles, they did not wear clothes and, not having any shame, they showed their nudity.
"How were they able to turn away such a beast," Godwin asked, speaking aloud to himself, engrossed.
Melkior replied intrigued:
"I think it's the nauseating slush that gives us the answer. As the feathered being was about to venture on you, I saw a dozen balls hitting the feathers and the head of the monster. If they had not intervened, now probably none of us would be alive!"
"Providence sent them!" exclaimed King Godwin, a little distracted by the little beasts, who had gathered all around a pile of stones, in front of which they had all knelt giving strong clicks.
"What are those things doing now, and to what nightmare did that feathered being belong? Where are we," Franz shouted hysterically, showing clear signs of a nervous breakdown.
"Quiet, soldier!" Fulk exclaimed, putting his hands on Franz’s shoulders and giving him a strong shake.
"They seem to be praying, but who or what they are invoking under those rocks is unknown to me," as Godwin became increasingly curious, approaching lightly the little monsters intent on the strange practice.
Gotthard also came next with a watchful eye, not believing in his own eyes:
"They are praying for human remains."
The great man from the north was astonished to see a corpse of a human warrior, positioned in a shallow pit, covered by a few stones, fortunately not completely concealing the many details of his armour. A ring on his finger, still on his hand, was clearly visible, bearing the symbol, which was identical in every detail to that of the banners of Doom Hammer, a city in the circle of the Steel Ring.
"That ring is made of gold! It will make me a fortune," a warrior from Terra cried out greedily, lying on the ground and stretching his arm toward the treasure.
"Stay where you are, knight! Do not dare to profane the relics of these shy beings!" thundered the Lord of the South from the enveloping shadow of the forest, pointing his finger to the opposite path to that of the rudimentary burial.
Godwin knelt down and recited some prayers under the attentive gaze of the grass hued dwarfish creatures, who, not understanding the respectful gesture, threw a couple of balls at him, dirtying his striking white armour.
"It's time to go, my soldiers! The hour is so late that the top of the forest is lit up. As many of you will have gathered, the air now smells of moss and grass just like when we entered, so we must be close to the edge of the forest," noted the Righteous getting up and cleaning himself a little from the dung.
They came out of the thick bush of the undergrowth of Tendard only fourteen in number, all of them with a big lump in their throat because they weren’t able to anything for their companions, not even carry their remains with them. The situation was so tragic that even Gotthard also considered himself to have been part of a miracle, he who was always in search of glory and death. The clear sky showed black clouds swollen with rain near the peaks of the great Cordillera of the Beasts, now so close that all the warriors were amazed.
"Is it possible that we have come so far?" Fulk asked in awe.
"It would not seem that only one night has passed since we took that deadly route," commented Heinsius, who was helping his comrade-in-arms with the arrow wound in his arm.
"The forest of Tendard is wicked and deceptive, distorting the truth by mixing it with lies. It's never a journey to be taken lightly. Those who venture there are punished by having to wander for a long time among the trees until they meet with eternal sleep or worse, become victim of a knavish trickster," commented an old and resonant voice, coming from a fairly old man with white beard and long white hair.
The stranger stood there at the edge of the forest, holding a basket and collecting herbs and mushrooms turning his back on the warriors.
"You are who?" Melkior asked, almost demanding surrender, having his chain mace in hand.
"Oooh, I have many names, my dears! But in the Kingdom of Varius, where we now find ourselves, I have none," answered the old man in an elusive way.
"Careful, old one, you don't know who you're talking to!" Fulk cried, moving to one side to surround his prey as if they were a pack of wolves.
"I must correct you, you don't know who you are talking to, Sire Fulk, Deputy Commander of the Prior's Guard of Honour. And I see Gotthard, fearless warrior, Prince of the Hell Hole. Finally, hidden behind his warriors by the white feathered helmet, I recognize no less than King Godwin, Lord of the South, hidden among the branches of Tendard," the old man gave proof of knowing who he was
speaking to perfectly well, instilling uncertainty in their hearts.
The men exchanged dubious looks about how or what to do, but no one moved a muscle after the manifest ability of the candid old man.
"Who are you? If you don't want to reveal it to yourself, it's not my business. The information interests me is hearing from your lips which flag waving in the wind is the one that you offer your loyalty to," stoic King Godwin asked, ready to react.
"I am neither with the West nor for the Emperor, but that does not mean that I am not with you. If my poor eyes still know how to read, the Emperor repudiates you and is hunting for you, therefore, it is he who is no longer with you, Lord of the South," the strange old man again answered mysteriously with words that twisted and turned.
"Old man, you are cunning. You are avoiding questions, but it's not worth your while to provoke the wrath of Terra," threatened Sigfred.
"You, knight, are very far from your city and the powerful armies of crusader blue. So don't threaten me, offering furies that you can't invoke!" the old man maliciously silenced Sigfred, turning to his listeners.
The man had no eyes, and only two deep and horrifying holes that were hard to forget. The long, smooth white hair dropped like curtains next to them, framing a hooked nose and thick moustache. Underneath the dark, dirty worn cassock was a black, embossed steel breastplate with rib-like decorations. The piece that imitated the sternum served as a clasp and connection between the breastplate and the plackart, showing a rare and modern model reinforcement plate. It was also decorated with macabre anatomical motifs. An iron mace hung from his belt, as well as a sword with a red leather scabbard, bearing the inscription ‘Silentium et Meditatio’ in gold letters. In his basket there was a small being very like the ones that had just saved them. He was eating mushrooms and herbs very greedily.
The various fragments of evidence collected by Godwin led him to exclaim in an astonished voice, taking off his beautiful helmet immediately:
TRONDHEIM SAGEN: Earth Shattering Page 34