Chapter II
The Shadow People of Turtle Island
Gabriel and Michael reappeared in an empty leather bound, funnel-shaped tent. They were seated round a softly burning fire, but if standing, both would have been tall, unblemished by age and powerfully built. Long dark hair flowed down their backs; eyes like burning coals pierced the gloom glinting in the shadowed light. Michael held in his hand a sacred pipe which released a fragrant fume that thickly filled the air. There were two buffalo hides on the ground for sleeping; by the side of which were pairs of tired looking moccasins. Hanging from the hardened leather interior walls were faded beaten shields, hard bows and angry spears. There was a small worn totem pole to one corner of the tent. The sun filtered through the shaft at the centre of the tepee from which smoke from the fire escaped. They had arrived from Haven, to where it was thought the Watcher they sought might be.
“What do you know of these people?” asked Michael putting the pipe down and rising.
“We refer to them as the Spirit People,” replied Gabriel, also standing, “We’ve had dealings with them before; they refer to themselves as the First People. They are made up of disparate nations that are all interlinked by their belief in Great Spirit, and it is that belief that means we can enter their world this way. In this respect, they are highly evolved - even though by looking at this shelter you’d think otherwise. But then how often have appearances deceived? Also they call us the Sky People or the Old Ones; the rest I think you know. Nothing much has altered with these people since the Angelos last visited here. As in the past, once we make ourselves known they will be unsurprised by our use of these forms.”
Gabriel gestured to the flap, and the two exited the tent. They stepped out into a settlement of what were the Hopi.
The day was clear, the sun comforting on their faces. People busied themselves cleaning hides, or hanging meats up to dry. Children played as though without a care. As they passed, people waved in a welcoming manner and then went back to the business of whatever it was that they were doing. Gabriel and Michael walked over to the large mud brick built building at the centre of the encampment. There was a small outlet in the roof where spirals of smoke escaped through - an indication if it were needed that a meeting was taking place.
Gabriel pulled back the leather cover to the opening, allowing Michael and himself to enter. The stream of light from the entrance briefly lit up the meeting, great plumes of headdresses were revealed, as half naked people sat in a circle round a small fire. The Great Chief beckoned his brothers forward.
“Hunting Bear, Wild Cat, come sit,” said Eagle Feather who was the father of his people. “Did you find answers in the Vision Quest?”
“It is I Gabriel. The Great Spirit has sent Michael and I of the Sky people to you at this time. We have filled these bodies with our spirits. According to the treaty made with your ancestors, Hunting Bear and Wild Cat will remain in the Vision Realm until our task here is done.”
Eagle Feather nodded impassively and gestured for them to sit by his side. His great headdress rose above them as though it were the canopy of a tree; his face was worn but wise. His chest was covered by a breast plate of bone and beads, and long dark hair flowed comfortably down his shoulders.
“We,” said Eagle Feather, “expected the Old ones to come when first we heard news of the Great Shadow that has come to these lands.”
Michael and Gabriel eyed each other impassively and sat down either side of him. The Great Shadow was the name in the distant past that the First People had given to the Dragon and or his acolytes; confirmation enough if it were needed that the Seal had led them to the right place and time.
“The Great Shadow is just a myth to scare our children with,” continued Eagle Feather. “I do not believe the Pawnee nor the Cheyenne. They have long wanted our lands; this treaty they seek is a trick.”
“The Great Shadow is real,” replied Gabriel, “we have fought against him many times. Always he is cunning. No doubt he has already usurped many nations as a means to conquer all, so that all might do his bidding.”
Black Elk with great distaste spat venomously at the ground, “The Hopi only know Great Spirit. We do not fear the dark spirit of our children’s stories.”
“Commendable,” said Michael nodding imperceptibly, “but the dark spirit is more than a child’s tale and to defeat such a menace you will need help from other Peoples.”
They then spoke long into the afternoon talking of what they knew of the Shadow that waited them and what it meant for their people. Some felt that it would pass them by, others that it might be the end of their people; one thing all were in agreement of was that they did not know what it meant for their way of life. As they wearied and the discussion drew to a close without any adequate conclusion being made there was a commotion from outside; there were calls and heckles, everyone in the large hut fell silent, becoming instantly alert as they feared the arrival of some new danger. The cover to the front of the hut was thrown back and in walked a tall powerful looking man, his partially shaven dark hair, an indication of which people he belonged to: he was Pawnee. At his side holding his arms were two warriors. There was a deep red scar cut across his chest, the blood had thickened and darkened. His face betrayed no emotion. Everyone relaxed and Eagle Feather beckoned the young man to speak. The two warriors released him immediately. Gone were the customary rituals of introduction.
“I am Grey Wolf,” said the man. “I have news of the Great Shadow - the enemy to all our nations. When news of his coming came to the Pawnee from traders along the great rivers, we knew we had to prepare, though we did not think at that time he would act as swiftly as the serpent when it strikes.”
Black Elk nodded, Gabriel and Michael grimly glanced at Eagle Feather and then back at Grey Wolf.
“Continue,” said Black Elk.
“We found the Great Shadow has now many allies,” said Grey Wolf. “The Shawnee, Sioux, Abenaki, Seneca, Algonquin, Delaware to name but a few have all listened to his lies and offerings. They have all come together to form what they call the Shadow People and have joined with a strange new nation that comes from across the Great Lake who have weapons that bite deeply and wear strange hides that act better than our shields being as hard as stone, they are tall and fair in appearance, we call them Grey Beards and they are merciless. All those that do not join with them are subjugated, enslaved or worse. Seven days ago a Grey Beard with a Shawnee scout came to my village. He said that we were to join with the Shadow People and that in two days he would return to hear our answer. After he left we sent for help; only to find that those we had turned to for help had already joined with our new enemy. When he returned Chief Growling Bear waved him away. The next thing we knew our camp was set too. Our women and children taken into slavery, our men folk in the most part killed, for all I know I could be the last of my people that remains free.”
Grey Wolf stood tired and worn in front of them and yet even as desperate as he was; he somehow held the dignity of his people.
Eagle Feather’s sad sunken eyes glistened in the gloom - it appeared that rumours of the Great Shadow had given him many sleepless nights and here and now the nightmare was coming to life. All were silent most staring at the ground almost in disbelief for what they had just heard, while Gabriel and Michael gazed thoughtfully up at Grey Wolf. Eagle Feather broke the silence, his trembling voice betraying how fatigued he too felt.
“How many attacked your Village?” he asked quietly.
“Although we were overwhelmed,” replied Grey Wolf, pausing a moment before continuing, “it is not just their numbers we should fear, for my village was not that great when compared with the Hopi, but that their party was made up of many nations which tells me they are now as vast as the Buffalo which roam the plain.”
There was a loud gasp among the assembled throng except for Gabriel and Michael. Gabriel gestured for everyone to quiet.
“Gabriel,” said Eagle Feather handing him the
talking stick, “you have something to say.”
Gabriel rose slowly to his feet.
“You all know me,” said Gabriel, “and I know the strength of those we call the Spirit People; we still have time to prepare against this menace that has come to these lands. First you must break camp and head west. It is too dangerous to remain here now that the enemy is near.”
There were murmurings of agreement.
“Next,” continued Gabriel, “you must better defend yourselves by finding other First People who will stand with you. As the Hopi head west, I and Michael will seek out the Shadow People and their Grey Beard brothers and find any weaknesses they may have. We will also try to find out why they are here at this time.”
Black Elk rose stretching out a hand which held a medicine bundle.
“We will listen to your words, you have always spoken as the Elders do; for your journey you will need this,” he said as he handed him the bag. “We shall seek out the nation of the Dakota. Meet us there, they were our friends when White Hair was a small child, maybe they will be our friends again.”
Eagle Feather began chanting and others joined him; one of the elders cast something into the fire which immediately sprang to life and they began to dance slowly round it; there was a thumping of drums and rattling of beads as they sought help from Great Spirit. After the Spirit Dance they all retired for the evening to make preparations for leaving their old hunting grounds. As Gabriel and Michael walked through the settlement everyone they passed appeared subdued. Even the fires had a strange disquiet to them. The singing of earlier that day was replaced by one or two murmurings of unrest, as word had quickly spread after the arrival of Grey Wolf of the Shadow People, though the majority of Hopi still held to a dignified silence.
Gabriel and Michael reached their tepee, before entering they studied the encampment to gauge its feeling and then disappeared inside. It did not take being an Angelos to sense the tension that now surrounded the village.
“It will be hard on these people,” said Gabriel as he rolled up a blanket and tied it tightly with a piece of string so that it would not unfurl.
“Harder still if we do not act,” replied Michael, taking down two bows from the wall and passing one to Gabriel.
“It is more the pity that we cannot help in other ways.”
“You know better than to question the Physical and Metaphysical laws of the Way,” replied Michael. “We must keep to the natural order of things. The only powers that have any effect on the Equilibrium are The Sacred Seals and Blessed Codexes as they were made to be independent from all else; only they can alter the nature of their own Chakras to fit any time, space, universe they are in. You know that is why such things are so prized.” Michael took down a bow and began stretching the string testing its flexibility.
“What did the Shaman give you?” asked Gabriel quickly turning the subject back to the present, “A photonic discharger would come in handy right now.”
“I would suggest that you’re going to be disappointed,” replied Michael.
Michael emptied the contents of the small bag on the floor.
“A few bones mostly,” said Michael, “some feathers, stones and look what we have here, some small meteorite fragments. Now they might prove useful.” Michael picked up the loose stones and began to study them. They were Jade, Pitch and Ochre in colour.
“Interesting,” said Gabriel as he was passed one of the stones, he turned to take down a water bottle and gave it a quick shake before throwing water over the pitch Meteorite, it glistened and then became dull. “As I said - interesting. Do we set off in the dark or wait till morning?” Gabriel returned the artefacts to their pouch.
“No time like the present,” replied Michael, “let’s eat first, pack our things, and then leave.”
“Packing is not going to be a problem,” replied Gabriel holding up his blanket and water bottle.
“I wonder who the Grey Beards are?” Michael asked.
“We’ll soon find out but they sound to me like the Norse which gives us a time frame to work from. Remember the message ‘from across the great lake comes Viking Horde’ and we’ve treated with them before when we lost the Codex, Thor’s Blade. Now there was a mistake and a half; we’d thought they were unaffected by our contact with them; not realising that their soothsayers had learnt from watching us the lore of Symbology; from which came their runic writings and their many Gods such as Odin and of course Thor.”
“Still we did not retrieve the lesser Codex. And the only redeeming factor from our interference of those people was that they continued down the same path they were already on; in that respect they remained unaltered.” said Michael.
“Down the same path,” Gabriel almost laughed, “we gave them a history they had never known before, to which they adopted us as myths, and made an entire culture out of that encounter.”
“That’s not altogether true,” replied Michael, “they simply took their old myths of Gods and Heroes and replaced them with different, but similar acting deities, the tales stayed the same and as for their script they used their own type of runic language. So in effect nothing much was altered. Anyway the use of symbols had long been established since the meddling of the Ananaki in Samaria long ago; so we didn’t interfere in the natural state of this planet, since such mysticisms were already a part of humanity’s culture.”
The two sat in silence eating some dry buffalo meat and quietly drinking from their sagging leather water bottles. Afterward they changed into warmer buckskin tunics and let their breech cloths hang down; they added leather leggings in readiness for the journey ahead. Placing stone knives in their belts with bows hanging over their shoulders and shields over their backs, they turned to leave, taking one last look at the cold empty interior of their tepee before opening the flap and stepping outside. The cool night air filled their lungs with a hint of sycamore. The moon as if it were some ancient stone tomb, coldly stared down at them. All was quiet most of the Hopi had retired for the evening. Gabriel and Michael were about to set off when they were stopped by Grey Wolf who greeted them in the customary manner of his people with his hand placed shoulder high and palm outward.
“I wish to leave with you,” he said, calmly enough, “it was my people that suffered most at the hands of the Shadow People.”
“I see,” said Michael, slowly looking first at Gabriel, then back at Grey Wolf, “but this is not a war party or a raiding party, we do not go to fight but to understand the enemy.”
Grey Wolf stared steadfastly into Michael’s eyes and took a step forward. The musky light of the moon reflected off his dark eyes.
“I know where they are.” said Grey Wolf, “I can lead you to them; it would be foolish not to have me along. Black Elk already agrees with this.”
Michael paused a moment.
“Very well then,” he quickly waved away Gabriel’s protestations, “we do not have time to discuss the matter, lead the way Grey Wolf.”
With that Grey Wolf turned and raced away. Michael shrugged and followed after him with Gabriel in hot pursuit. They were soon out of the village and heading across the plain. The land was wide open lush country. Tall grasses stretched out in all directions being blown back and forth by a soft cool breeze, above watching their passage a remote moon obscured by a few wisps of cloud. The plain rose and fell as they raced across it; they ran until dawn before briefly stopping to rest and eat; a deep penetrating crimson light that was like seeping blood crossed the hinterland towards them.
They travelled most of that day and the next barely stopping except for some minor rest while they ate. It was dusk on the third day when they picked up the trail of the shadow people.
“They have their settlement in the valley of the white river,” said Grey Wolf.
Grey Wolf did not need any of his expertise as a tracker. The trail was an obvious one. There was no pretence by the Shadow People of keeping their movements secret. It was guessed that they did not have to as they
feared no one. The tracks they followed were confused, congealed, the land trampled upon which showed that numerous people had passed that way, but strangely also there were bear and wolf tracks but it could not be worked out whether they were fleeing or following; stained blood on the ground maybe suggested something sinister had occurred. From that point on they trod more carefully, keeping themselves concealed as best they could. They came across a deserted village: the tepees had withered under a tortuous flame and a hard fume rose from some of the seething timbers. Wild dogs gnawed on the husks of empty bodies. The Hunting Lodge at the centre of the village was less damaged than other parts of the settlement. At its entrance a man had been tied to a pole, his body was striven with deep open seeping wounds and a dog was licking at them. At their approach it turned and fled; they stood over the man’s crippled frame. Gabriel knelt down and cradled the man in his arms and cut his bonds and as he did so the man slumped forward with a whimper.
“Hey, this one’s still alive,” cried Gabriel.
Gabriel slowly began to pour water into the man’s mouth as Michael and Grey Wolf swiftly approached. His lips were cracked, like a dried riverbed, his eyes were vacant, his body as flimsy as grass.
“I am Growling Beaver,” said the man, he barely had the energy to mutter the words. “Medicine Man of my village, all people destroyed or taken.”
“I am Gabriel. This is Michael and Grey Wolf.”
“Gabriel,” said Growling Beaver, “that is a strange name.”
“Shaman, search your people’s memories. I am one of the Sky People - we are the Guardians of Great Spirit,” replied Gabriel.
“I see,” said Growling Beaver as he reached up to pull matted strands of hair from his eyes, “How do I know you are who you say you are?”
Gabriel whispered something in the man’s ear. His eyes widened in acknowledgement and nodded with all the strength he could muster. Gesturing toward the lodge he pulled Gabriel close.
“In there,” said Growling Beaver, “placed in the feet of the eagle totem is a medicine bag and sacred long knife you will have need of…”
With that the man’s life finally gave out; never again would he walk on the plain or hunt in the Great Forest as his ancestors had done.
Leaving Grey Wolf with the man, Gabriel and Michael entered the still smouldering lodge. The air was thick with the smell of half scorched and putrefying timbers, and other pernicious smells; that of burnt flesh being one. The roof had partially collapsed and bodies lay on the ground, their tortured frames lying in despair; looks of horror on their crusted faces. They had been hacked at in a maddening rage, limbs had been severed, bones crushed to meal. This was where a last stand had been made against the intruders, and the people had been punished for it.
“No doubt this is the mark of the Dragon’s acolytes,” murmured Gabriel.
Michael nodded gazing at the scene in disgust; it took a while before they found what they were looking for. In the corner, laid on its back beneath a body and half buried in the ground, was the Totem that Growling Beaver had spoken of; it was half as tall as him and charred but still intact - in fact they had overlooked it at first, mistaking it in the dim light for the burnt remains of one of the victims. He gathered it up and began prodding its base with his dagger. One of the small carved talons loosened, he tugged at it and a hatch flipped open. Michael pulled out the contents and laid them on the ground. It was as the Shaman had declared, a medicine bag, a long dagger, and a piece of leather with a map drawn on it.
“Look at this,” said Michael holding up the dagger. The blade was of a metal that they perceived to be Syteel: the carved handle was in the shape of a Dragons head. “This,” continued Michael, “does not belong on this world.”
“You don’t say.” Gabriel took the blade in his hand and studied it a moment. He held it up to the light, in shape it was like lightening. There was some archaic writing on it; in runic lettering.
“This is Thor’s blade,” said Gabriel, “How did such a device get here?”
“If I remember correctly,” said Michael, “it was lost at the battle of Ganimede Three. And to prevent it from falling into the hands of the enemy it was cast into a portal. When we followed its Chakra we thought it had been lost in the lands of the Norse; no wonder we couldn’t find it there. The portal must have been damaged, which would have affected where the Codex came out.”
“Why was it sent to Terra Azure in the first place?” replied Gabriel, incredulously handing the blade to Michael.
“It was randomly sent through,” said Michael, “from what I remember Terra Azure was the only option available at the time.”
“Fortunate then,” Gabriel placed his hands rigidly on his hips, “that it should be here now and that we should find it.”
Michael looked impassively back at Gabriel. The weapon - for weapon it was - was a lesser Codex that had been sought after for many years, though its Chakra – its power - could be turned to other uses.
“Interesting, though, that you wanted a photonic discharger and this is as powerful; more so in fact with its ability to harness natural energy.” said Michael.
“A photonic discharger in all but name,” said Gabriel, nodding gravely, “this is a curious development. The thing is what might it signify? And what effect will it have on the Equilibrium? These questions will have to remain a mystery for the moment. Come, there is nothing more to be done here. We had better be on our way.”
Outside Grey Wolf had waited patiently for them; he had placed the medicine man atop a scaffold for the dead on a burial ground that lay by the side of the village. Without another word the three of them left the village and made their way onto the flat grassy lands, in the distance they could see a wall of trees with a strange vapour hanging over them.
“The Forest of Mists,” said Grey Wolf, “soon we will be approaching the Shadow people.”
As they drew ever closer to the Forest a sudden apprehension came over them. In the distance the haunting sound of an unknown bird cried out as though in agony. They stopped short of entering the trees.
“Is there any way of going around?” asked Gabriel.
“Yes,” replied Grey Wolf, “but it would add another week to our journey. I have hunted in this place many times before and do not fear it even though it hides wolves and bears.”
“Then,” said Michael, placing Thor’s Blade in his bag, “going around would take to long, especially since time is of the essence.”
“And getting eaten,” replied Gabriel.
“It's not being eaten I am worried about. Let us dare the Forest - I’m sure any wolves and bears will not seek to struggle against us.”
The three passed into the gloom, the tall trees reaching high above them. Heavy thick hides like dried and roughened skin threateningly closed them in. They moved at first in silence watching for any indication of the Shadow People; any bent twig, crushed leaf or twisted shrub; but there were none. Grey Wolf’s eyes pierced the dark and the shadow, almost instinctively he understood the forest; every sound, smell, taste, told him where he was, and always he kept to a steady path. The hard ground undulated, every now and then fallen and broken trees obstructed their movements as if directing them away from some sinister path; but still they moved deeper and deeper into the forest as silent as they went, still they could not conceal their movements, the slightest noise betrayed them as to their whereabouts, owls hooted, a woodland rabbit was heard stamping, the hollow call of a fallow deer caught their attention; but on noticing them it quickly made its escape through thicket and dishevelled tawny bramble. Eventually they came upon a clearing, a small stream ran out of some craggy rocky rise, beneath which was a cave. Gabriel took his bow and latched an arrow to it. Michael did the same and followed him into the grotto. It had been long deserted, a cold dank place where in parts water filtered through from above. Fortunately enough, the ground, though cool, was mostly dry, especially at the back. There were some dead animal bones on the floor - pro
bably belonging to a deer, thought Michael, as he rolled one or two of the smaller fragments in his hand. It was indeed a good place to rest. Once they had settled Grey Wolf went hunting while Gabriel built a small fire. Michael took out the map that he had found in the village and studied it more closely. It was of the lands farther west. Michael shrugged to himself and placed it back in his bag: there was some meaning to it but at that time it was concealed from him, he warmed his hands by the fire, the shadow of its flames danced across the walls giving them life. It was easy to imagine in that cold dank place that creatures of nightmare waited for them; except of course that such beings unreal to man, were very real to the Angelos. There was a rustling outside, Michael was instantly alert, then realising who it was, sat legs crossed staring into the fire; Grey Wolf appeared at the entrance of the cave with their supper - rabbit and squirrel would be the meal that evening.
Soon Gabriel and Grey Wolf with their stomachs filled lay back and slowly their tired eyes closed. They were too wearied and in too secret a place for any need to stand watch that night. The rhythm of their faint breathing was matched only by the small drops that fell like tears from above them. There was a gentle tapping as each drop hit the stony floor disappearing down a small cleft that led outside. A small ruffled rodent came shuffling around and on finding that there were already some creatures in residence quickly made its exit. Michael was also too tired to notice the little intruder. After he had eaten his mind had refused to rest; instead he was fixed on the turn of events that had overtaken them; he lifted himself on his haunches and sat back against the wall with a heavy sigh. They were no closer to finding out the reason for the Grey Beards being on Turtle Island than they were when they had first arrived. As he stared out of the opening the sun drifted toward the horizon. All he knew was that their enemy was there, and though the Dragon would not have come himself he would have sent his acolytes in his stead, but still for what reason? Slowly as Michael contemplated the many things that had occurred since their arrival, his eyes grew heavy, weariness had won out as his head slumped to one side and soon he too slept deeply. His body would often jerk or fidget, as his mind hovered over battle scenes, and paradises lost.
Michael was the first to stir. Realising how much time had passed, he quickly shot up, and shook Gabriel out of his stupor. The cave had darkened, as the sun had long since descended; Grey Wolf also woke, alerted by the movements of the others. All three gathered their things together and stepped out of the cave, they stood beneath a brooding heavy sky that greedily set upon them. Soon now their target would be within reach of finding out the dark purpose that lay behind the creation of the Shadow People. Grey Wolf quickly picked up the trail. Even in the shadow it was easy to follow: the trampled path, the broken boughs, and torn out brush all indicated that something truly disturbing had passed that way. They could hear that they were closing in on the white river valley. It was a broad ravine with a rushing river that foamed wildly and quickened at its heart then calmed as it exited the gorge too exhausted by its efforts to battle further, it was surrounded by a thick uncompromising forest. The valley was boarded by high hills to one side; and a mountain range to the other. Fortunately the moon pierced the clouds enough to light their path. Michael took Thor’s blade from his bag. It drew energy from the moon and softly illuminated their surroundings with a halo of light that chased away the shadows, sending them racing into deep crags.
Gabriel pointed to a high vantage point in the distance that overlooked the valley. Michael nodded, and placed Thor’s blade back in his bag. The three then quietly made their way over to the base of a rocky knoll and began to climb. As they reached the top they made their way to the further edge, and looking over they collectively gasped. Splayed out in front of them was the largest settlement that could be imagined for that time. No longer was the valley forested: the trees had been cut down and in their stead were thousands of wooden huts. Littered throughout were small fires that glistened like tremulous ice. Surrounding the settlement was what could only be described as a stockade which was laid out in front of a wooden wall. In the half-light Gabriel could see Michael shaking his head. Gabriel also felt disturbed by the sight. Grey Wolf had seen something and was shaking his hand in the direction of some wooden cages that were lit up and surrounded by torches. So that was where his people were being held.
“Look,” cried Michael his attention drawn elsewhere, “I thought right; Vikings on Turtle Island.”
“Oh that’s all we need - Berserkers running amok,” said Gabriel.
Grey Wolf stared at them both with a puzzled expression on his face.
“Those Grey Beards.” said Gabriel pointing in the direction of some large well-armed guards, “We’ve seen their like before, but not this far west.” Gabriel turned back to Michael, “Could it be Leif Erikson?”
“Perhaps,” replied Michael his eyes straining to pierce the dark, “at least this confirms what we thought. Vikings - that gives us a clearer idea of what age this is. The Dragon must be using them for his own purposes - we need to try to find out what the link is between Leif Erikson, if it is him, the Vikings and his coming here at this time.”
Gabriel nodded thoughtfully and gestured for them to leave, "Could they be after the lesser Codex."
"Would they gather such an army to retrieve it? There are simpler methods they could have used," replied Michael.
"He clearly needs an army for something important," said Gabriel.
"What if he needed Thor's Blade to retrieve something greater? Now there's an ominous thought for you. We know that the only way the Dragon could summon such a force without breaking the Equilibrium and being discovered is by using the people of this time. So he clearly wishes to act with some degree of anonymity."
Grey Wolf’s eyes were aflame, his teeth tightening in his jaw at the sight of the intruders; Michael seeing that their position was precarious, and wary that he might do something rash ushered them backwards from the ridge.
“What do we do next?” asked Gabriel.
“We cannot fight them with just the Hopi, that’s for certain, but at least we now know what we’re up against,” said Michael, “Vikings means we may have a problem.”
“May, that’s an understatement,” said Gabriel. “Did you see the ones that sat round the fire they were set apart from the others, close to the wood near the stockade?”
“Yes, unmistakeably they are the ones to fear, acolytes of the Dragon,” said Michael, his eyes glistening in the light, “I think in your tongue they are known as Manitou.”
Grey Wolf looked visibly shaken at the sound of the name.
“Such powerful spirits here,” said Grey Wolf.
“Yes,” replied Gabriel sullenly, “We should make our way back to the Hopi and give warning of what is to come.”
“What of my people?” asked Grey Wolf, “I cannot let them remain slaves.”
“If we free them,” said Michael, “we stand to get caught. We cannot take the risk.”
Grey Wolf made to move forward his anger and rage momentarily getting the better of him but he was stiffly dragged back by Gabriel.
“Now’s not the time for us to take them on,” said Michael.
The three descended down the craggy side of the rocky face. As they reached the bottom they heard some people coming towards them out of the dark. Remaining unseen they crept behind the shrubs and trees, and just as they did so four burly Vikings came into view. All held torches up that clearly showed their own faces. Long matted blond hair braided at the sides quivered in front of them. Blue icy eyes punctured the night. Thick sinewy tattooed arms comfortably held swords or axes. Their long leather metal studied boots could not hide their approach nor would they have wished them to after all these were battle hardened fighters. Around their waists of long breeches were thick leather belts where mighty swords hung. They were laughing with one another as they spoke. The air felt as though it tightened around them the closer they got. Gabriel and Michael und
erstood the primitive language of Norse from their previous encounter with Vikings.
“I thought Valhalla would be different,” said one of the men, “instead we find a backwater filled with farmers and strange looking savages that can barely feed themselves.”
“Valhalla, ha, Rathgar - you know what Lord Erikson said. There is treasure here but it is further inland. That is what the Oracle told him or that Lothos,” scoffed another of the men.
“That Lothos is a sorcerer, I tell you, there’s no mistaking it,” replied Rathgar. “I think our noble leader has been bewitched; there’s nothing here worth plundering. And another thing, I don’t trust these people, they have strange ways and stranger still that we are here at all, if he weren’t a sorcerer how did this Lothos know of this place?”
“You’re right - these lands and people are strange,” replied another man, “but if there’s glory and gold to be had then that’s worth travelling to the ends of the world for, don’t you think?”
“I prefer not to think,” said Thoradrian, “Remember what Leif Erikson said - ‘you shall have rewards the like of which the Gods in Valhalla would be jealous of.’ That’s what he said. And if I recall right that Lothos also said that when we ventured to these new lands it would herald Ragnarok, but I tell you Rathgar, if this be Ragnarok then I’m a Dane.”
“You could be,” said one of the men, “after all, you never knew your father.”
They laughed raucously.
“What I’m trying to say,” said Thoradrian, “is that these lands are barren and empty; so far we haven’t seen a town above the size of a small village.”
“Come, let us get back to the fires,” said Rathgar, “there’s nothing here. Someone probably heard a wolf or some such animal and besides our scouts will find any that dare tarry too close.”
The four turned and made their way back to the encampment without noticing narrowed eyes staring at them just beyond the torchlight. The three furtive figures watched as the Vikings passed out of ear shot before slowly retreating to a safer distance.
“Now at least we know Lothos is here,” said Michael, “and we know why they’re here.”
“You mean,” said Gabriel, “that they are after gold, and personal glory. They’re Vikings alright.”
“But that treasure Lothos is after has to be a Codex or a Seal,” replied Michael.
“Exactly, but the thing is, which one?” whispered Gabriel.
“It’s got to be important or Lothos wouldn’t be here; and they certainly didn’t know it was here originally otherwise they would’ve come straight to these lands without the need of Leif Erikson and his Viking horde; unless of course they truly need an army to get what they want, and the locals certainly couldn’t provide them with that - or perhaps wouldn’t.”
“And yet they’ve turned many Spirit People to their cause, so what they are really after to achieve their purpose is overwhelming force, which means they must be uncertain of succeeding.”
They waited to make sure the Vikings had left before fleeing down the path that led into the valley. The three made good time, Grey Wolf leading the way through lands he knew well. Each verge or crag they came across gave him direction as to where to go next.
“Grey Wolf,” said Michael, “if we run into one of their Scouting parties it would be easier for us to say that we had captured you as a lone straggler of the Pawnee and were returning to camp with you, as our prisoner. We can speak any language so there won’t be a problem with us disguising ourselves. As your people are known to the Shadow people and we are not; we shall claim to be Abenaki, it might help us trick them into believing we are with them; the thing is for this to work we will have to take your weapons from you.”
“What if they don’t ask questions?” said Gabriel, “and instead we are attacked; then Grey Wolf will have nothing to defend himself with.”
“Risky I know,” said Michael, “but I do not believe from what we’ve seen so far that their intention is mindless destruction. They consider captives as slaves and in that they have value.”
“And what if you’re wrong?” asked Gabriel ushering Michael to one side. “We have seen the malice that can lie within the hearts of men and Vikings are notoriously blood thirsty - and some were or are incredibly psychotic and self-serving.”
“Exactly,” responded Michael, “they view their own brothers as commodities. We can use that; they won’t see a person but gold, and greed is a great motivator which will blind them to an even worse darkness.”
“Really,” said Gabriel, “don’t forget what happened to that village we passed earlier."
“Yes, I have considered that,” replied Michael, “but the reason for that wanton savagery was that they were clearly frustrated in their efforts to lay claim to Thor's Blade.”
Michael turned away from the annoying gaze of Gabriel and back to Grey Wolf.
“Come,” continued Michael in a reassuring tone, “it will be okay.”
Grey Wolf nodded and gave up his arms without further debate or delay. The three moved off once more.
As night slowly turned to day, they were many leagues distant from where they had encountered the Shadow People. Finding an abandoned bear cave they hid most of that day, rested and ate, only continuing on as dusk drew near. Grey Wolf had been silent throughout, seeing his brethren in captivity and having not helped them had left him feeling sullen.
Many days passed before they finally journeyed west of the Dakota. As they went an ever increasing anxiety grew that they could not quite place. Tree, bush and open plain that had once been so inviting appeared strangely different, the air was thicker than usual, and the colours less vibrant. As the three abandoned the cover of the trees and stepped out into a clearing Gabriel stopped to crouch down, spotting some tracks he had not seen before.
“I think we may have company,” said Gabriel, in a matter of fact tone.
As he said this out from behind the trees strode tall broad Viking men, and emerging from the long grasses, practically beneath their feet stood Shadow people, both Shawnee and Seneca in origin. Their bows were stretched back and ready to fire.
Gabriel was about to react but stopped when Michael imperceptibly signalled for him to stay his hand.
“So you think we may have company.”
The leader of the Vikings came forward and spoke. The words were translated by one of the Seneca Scouts.
“Why are you here?” said the Scout, “which people do you belong to?”
“We are Abenaki, we were out hunting,” said Gabriel, “When we captured this Pawnee.”
The scout translated what was said to the Vikings. Michael and Gabriel listened to the exchange very carefully, their lives after all depended on it. After they had finished, one of the Vikings stepped forward. His eyes narrowed as he studied the strangers: he was not convinced by the story. He was a tall man: long blond hair ran down his back, a wolf’s hide gave his shoulders greater stature, his helm glistened in the sunlight and long shanks meant he towered over everyone there. An outstretched sword slowly hovered at their throats before being sheathed. He spoke quickly to the brave at his side.
“You,” said the Seneca Scout, “may continue your hunt but we will take the prisoner back to our camp.”
Gabriel gave Michael a sideways glance, who subtly shook his head in response; there were simply too many to fight. Not only were they outnumbered, but the Vikings had swords and double headed axes to hand and they could not risk losing Thor’s blade to the enemy and by doing so expose who they were. They stepped aside and watched as Grey Wolf was roughly taken. A spear was placed between his arms and with Gabriel and Michael looking on, he was dragged away. After the men had disappeared beyond the clearing and into the trees Gabriel gave out a heavy sigh. They could hear the jostling of horses beneath the cover of the trees, and then the trampling of hooves that soon faded to nothing.
“That was too close,” he said, “but what do we do now?”
“Umm�
�� Michael thoughtfully stared at the place where Grey Wolf had disappeared into, “It looks like Grey Wolf’s finally going to be with his people after all.”
“Yes but we cannot leave him to be questioned, he might tell of the Hopi and the Dakota,” said Gabriel, scratching his head.
“He will not talk,” replied Michael, “because they will not question him. You heard them - they believe he is just someone that got away from one of their raids. If they had not thought that; they would’ve taken us all.”
“So do we leave him?” asked Gabriel
Michael stood wiping the sweat away from his brow and turned in the general direction of where the Hopi were. The sun was high in the sky, a cool breeze caught his hair, guiding it gently into his eyes; he quickly brushed it aside.
“We’ll go after him.” said Michael, “enter their camp; they believed we were Abenaki well enough, I think we could probably now walk right in without too much trouble.”
“You do realise that there is no more cunning creature in creation than man, so I would expect trouble if I were you,” said Gabriel.
“Actually we both know that there is someone who is as cunning or more so, and he’s not human,” replied Michael.
“Yes,” said Gabriel with a sad nod of the head, “the Dragon and humanity are well suited for each other.”
“Gabriel, remember all the good man has done; the self-sacrifice, compassion and love,” replied Michael as he tied back his hair, “It is for that reason that Adun, and those that came after him, were sent to them.”
“I know, but they are so easily led astray,” said Gabriel puffing out his cheeks. Remembering was not a problem - after all this was not their first visit to Terra Azure. The question being was it going to be their last visit, or was it just another part of the on-going saga the Angelos had with humanity? And so with a deep sigh he gestured for Michael to lead the way. The two set off racing through the trees.
Valour of the Spirit People Page 3