Crown of Vengeance fie-1 Page 21

  “And the army we just saw?” Derek prodded insistently. “Where are they headed to?”

  “The lands that you are in, right now,” the old man replied without hesitation.

  “Then we should get the hell out of here, it would seem to me,” Derek stated tersely. He glanced to the three that had remained behind in the camp, Janus, Kent, and Antonio, his next words directed squarely at them. “We just saw an entire army march by at the edge of the woods. You probably wouldn’t believe me, but it was like something right out of a medieval time. Spears, armor, horses, swords… even knights… all that, and more. Things you probably won’t believe at first. It was an enormous army, thousands and thousands strong, and it was the source of all the noise and shaking that we all experienced.”

  “Things I wouldn’t believe?” Janus asked him. “What do you mean?”

  Derek hesitated, and when he answered Janus, his voice took on a tension that Logan had not heard within it before.

  “There were… creatures…” Derek said, his brow furrowing, as if it was difficult for him to make the declaration. “Of kinds that I have no idea what they were. I still can’t believe what I just saw, but I saw it, and so did Erika, Mershad, and Logan. We can’t deny it. And I do know that we don’t want to run into any of these creatures. Not in the least.”

  The old man held his hand up, drawing everyone’s immediate attention.

  “Before you worry yourself too much, that army will not come in here just yet,” he stated. “They are still assembling, gathering, and preparing for what will come. The Unifier’s hunger turns to the last lands that will not bend their knees to Him in submission, but know that those forces that you saw will not move on these woodlands just yet. You still have some time, and you will need what I have come here to give you.”

  The old man had a large pouch affixed to the belt at his waist, from which he withdrew a number of small amulets hanging from thin, hide necklaces. Logan noticed that a radiant golden ring, inlaid with a spectacular blue gemstone, rested upon one of the old man’s long fingers.

  The elongated, thin leather strips of hide procured from the leather pouch were each threaded through a metallic amulet. The amulet looked to be crafted of iron, inlaid with a small blue gemstone that was of the same kind as that on the old man’s ring.

  The stone on the old man’s finger was large and round, while each of the stones in the amulets was cut into a very unique shape. The stones were nearly in the form of the letter “F,” with a distinctive difference. The two horizontal lines extending to the right of the vertical line were parallel, but slanted downward in a diagonal fashion.

  The metal that the blue stones were set into framed them exquisitely, closely following the outer contours of the shaped stones. The complete pendants, including both stone and setting, were not overly large. Each could fit comfortably into the palm of a person’s hand.

  “Take these, and wear them, at all times. They will help to get you through this time and place,” the old man announced, extending the first one towards Mershad.

  Mershad accepted it a little gingerly, holding it out in front of him as he peered intently at the strange amulet. The old man moved onward, bestowing one necklace upon each member of the remaining group, until seven of the amulets had been distributed in all.

  When he was finished passing out the necklaces, he advised them, “Walk this land with caution, and always be wary, for these are the most perilous of times for the world of Ave.”

  The name of the new world sounded so graceful and elegant to Logan’s ears, pronounced ‘ah-vay’ by the elderly man. He wondered whether it carried the same meaning as a Latin word from his own world.

  The words of caution from the old man were not necessary. Logan was not about to let his guard down, though he regarded it as unbelievably bad fortune if he and the others had truly stepped into another world that was wreathed in its most perilous age.

  “Who are… you? And why… would you bother to help us?” Erika interjected, with a little strain in her voice, as if the question took a very conscious effort to utter. Logan could read confusion and mild exasperation on her face, as if she was struggling with herself.

  She had asked what was probably the most obvious of questions, the one that should have been on the tips of all seven of their tongues. Yet not one of them had asked it, and Erika had only done so with evident difficulty.

  Even as she voiced the question, Logan took notice that his nerves were indeed dulled. He knew that he should be feeling much more guarded and scrupulous in the face of an enigmatic stranger, especially one passing out distinctively shaped amulets fitted with blue gemstones. Yet it was as if he could not gain a tight enough grip upon his own thoughts to be concerned with what was transpiring. The mere sight of the old man seemed to be instantly soothing and reassuring, and there was no feeling of alarm anywhere within Logan.

  The old man smiled gently at Erika, with the kindly warmth of a caring grandfather.

  “It is good to be overly cautious in this age,” he responded in an amiable tone. “I am a friend, one who has been waiting for those such as you for a very, very long time. I only wish to be of help to you, the truth of which you all will know in a time to come.

  “As I said to Janus yesterday, it is best that you limit your questions now, as any answers will only open up far more questions than you are ready to grapple with. Such is the true nature of knowledge, and what the seven of you are now being faced with could overwhelm you, if you are not careful. Heed my advice; take this journey a small step at a time.”

  The others exchanged mystified glances with each other at the strange answer. Logan looked towards Janus, and then back to Derek, as full realization struck him. He understood then that this old man was the unusual figure that they had mentioned encountering soon after their arrival out of the mists.

  Kent, who Logan also knew had seen the old man before, then asked the stranger, “I don’t understand any of this. And it sounds like you aren’t going to help us clear things up quickly… but don’t you at least have a name we can call you?”

  The old man smiled again, and for a moment there was an amused glitter within his eye.

  “Not all things at once, my young friend,” the stranger replied evenly. “I am simply a Wanderer through this wide world. One that has long sought wisdom, and has paid a great price for gaining it.”

  The old man looked slowly around to each of the seven gathered around him. The others all remained silent and mindful, and even Kent did not offer objection to the unsatisfying answer to his question. The stranger seemed to be able to hold onto their undivided attention with merely a glance.

  He uttered no other words, as his scrutiny finally ended with Logan. The encompassing gaze notably remained with Logan for a few seconds longer than it had with the others. Logan could not fathom why that was so, though the extended attention seemed very peculiar to him.

  “You will be given guidance soon enough,” he told all of them, as he swept his gaze across all of their faces.

  As if some kind of hold had been lifted, Logan felt the clarity of his thoughts begin to sharpen. With a sparkle in his eye, the old man turned away from them and started off into the woods with his long robes flowing about him.

  His parting words carried back to them.

  “Wear my gifts about your necks. They will bring you understanding. You will need them, if you wish to gain answers faster.”

  Snapping fully out of the trance-like state, Logan regained mastery over the rest of his senses. He watched with amazement until the old man was out of sight, bewildered by the whole encounter.

  “Hey, I wonder how much this would go for. Have to get a jewelry shop to price this one out when we get back,” Kent quipped.

  His jesting words broke the awkward silence weighing heavy in the air, as Kent casually looped his pendant around his neck. Grinning wide, Kent added, “So, do I look like a good model for this? Gotta be worth a little money…
I’m sure of it.”

  “But it won’t be worth much if we get caught around here,” Logan stated.

  A darker expression rose upon his face as he looked off in the direction where the old man had headed in. His mind filled again with vivid images of the enormous army, most especially the massive saber-toothed cats, the rat-men, and the burly monstrosities with their huge, wicked-looking axes.

  “Are we all losing our minds? Why trust him?” Logan questioned the others. “Why trust anyone? What do we really know? But I think we do need to get a move on things here.”

  Derek’s expression was very austere, as he looked over to Janus and Kent. “That was definitely the old man we saw yesterday… did he say anything else to you when we were gone?”

  Janus nodded. “No doubt, it was the same man. He had appeared to us right before the four of you returned. I have no idea why he has such an interest in us, but he appears to be trying to help. He doesn’t seem to be dangerous, and if he was, wouldn’t he have done something yesterday, or just now?”

  Derek shrugged, “Don’t ask me. Nothing makes sense anymore.”

  “We should get going,” Logan interjected. “Medieval army or strange old man, I’m not about to trust anything or anyone. Derek’s right. Nothing makes sense.”

  “I sure can’t make much sense out of what that man said. I wish I had asked him some more questions. It was like my mind grew sluggish, and I couldn’t think of much to say,” Erika said, accurately describing the sensation that Logan had felt throughout the encounter. “It was all I could do to just to ask him who he was. Like I had to force the words out of my mouth.”

  She fingered her necklace for a moment, gazing down at the deep blue gemstone. Her glance prompted Logan to turn his attention to his own.

  It appeared to be safe enough, a simple pendant of metal and gemstone. With a shrug, Logan finally slipped it on around his own neck. Looking back up, Logan was about to make another comment, when he saw the forest come alive all around them.

  Seemingly out of nowhere, to their sides, to the front, and to the back of them, a large number of lithely moving figures emerged right from the trees and shadows themselves. All of them were armed, bearing various types of weapons, and their attentions were resolutely fixed upon Logan and his companions.

  In appearance and attire, they were nothing like the ones that Logan had recently witnessed, comprising the huge column marching out on the plains. If anything, they immediately reminded him of the native peoples of his own country.

  The weapons were poised for use, bringing a clenching feeling to Logan’s gut as the air swarmed with tension.

  A good number of the warriors surrounding them held curving, wooden clubs of war. The gracefully cut, slender arching shafts ended in dense, rounded balls of solid wood. Some of the shafts were carved to resemble serpents or other animals, whose open jaws cradled the orbs of wood at their ends. On others, the facing of the spherical ends had been carved into the visage of a human face.

  A few of the warriors had feather-fletched arrows notched on bows, which were partially drawn back and trained directly upon their targets; Logan and his six companions. Logan took uneasy account of more than one sharp iron arrowhead pointed coldly and impassively at his own body. The feeling was deeply unsettling, like nothing that he had ever experienced before.

  Still other warriors bore axes with hafts of modest length, weapons clearly designed to be wielded with one arm. The hafts were fitted at their ends with small, single-edged blades of iron that had a slender horizontal profile. The axe blades gleamed dangerously as they reflected the sunlight breaking through the leaves of the trees above them.

  Short bone-handled knives were suspended down the center of many of the figures’ chests, encased within sheaths graced with intricate quill-work and fringes of metal-banded tassels lining the openings.

  The warriors themselves were very simply garbed. Though some wore longer hide tunics on their upper bodies, most were bare of chest. The latter were clad with some type of buckskin waist-skirt, not unlike a kilt, or a hide or woolen breechcloth that ran through their legs, looping up and over a waist belt. All wore hide leggings to the mid-thigh, and had moccasins covering their feet.

  Their faces and exposed skin were covered in painted strips of red and black. Slightly obscured by the striping were a plethora of tattooed designs, some of recognizable animal or nature designs, and others geometric patterns.

  The warriors did exhibit a considerable amount of ornamentation, as bands of quill-decorated hide, feathers, or small shell beads, wrapped around their upper arms or at the knees, were quite prevalent amongst them. Earrings and nose rings were in regular evidence, some of the former being substantial, looping designs made of shell. A few had their ears adorned with puffy, globular adornments of swan down.

  There was a complete lack of facial hair on the men, and even their heads were largely shorn of hair. Most wore styles with thick tufts sprouting atop their heads, the centered tufts decorated with feathers or other smaller items.

  Their facial features, on the average, were very angular in nature, with high-set cheekbones and prominent noses, lending many of them an almost hawk-like profile. Their dark eyes were piercing and humorless. Almost all had leaner, sinewy bodies, infused with a well-defined muscularity.

  Logan and the others instinctively grouped together in a circle, facing outward with their backs to each other. He could not see any other clear options, as they were completely surrounded by the stern-looking warriors. It was certainly not in their interest to profess to fight.

  “Stay where you are!” one of the nearest of the warriors commanded them in a hard, resolute tone.

  Despite the black and red paint, and several tattoos, the warrior had a very handsome visage. He possessed a balanced symmetry to his wide, expressive eyes, full lips, and slightly broader nose, which complimented an ovular face. He was among the taller of the surrounding warriors, with a sculpted body that brought out his well-defined chest and bulging shoulder muscles.

  He was every inch the image of strength and vitality, and definitely did not look like the kind of man that one would want to cross. Logan looked slowly to the others with him, seeing looks of utter confusion on the faces of some, and comprehension on the faces of others.

  “Who are you? Why are you in these lands?” the figure then inquired, with manifest caution underlying his insistent manner.

  “My name is Erika,” Erika then responded, “and we really don’t know where we are, why we are here, or even what is happening.”

  Logan glanced towards his companions again.

  The perplexity had seemed to increase on the faces of those who had looked the most confused when the warrior had initially spoken. They were eyeing Erika sharply, and Logan could see the questioning look in their gazes.

  It was then that he took note that the ones wearing the pendants, like himself and Erika, looked to be the most comfortable. A distinct thought came to him, but he was not yet ready to try and test it. A throng of fierce-looking warriors of unknown intent, bristling with weapons, prompted him to severe caution. He did not want to make one comment or gesture that would be misconstrued to an unfavorable result. Nobody had to tell them that their lives were hanging in the balance.

  “I’m Kent,” Kent replied nervously, after Erika had spoken, his eyes wide with anxiety. He suddenly stammered out, “We don’t know where we are, and if we trespassed, we did not mean it. She’s right, we don’t know what’s happening here.”

  The others remained quiet, staying rigidly in place. The ones without the pendants on continued to look dumbfounded, and appeared to be growing increasingly worried.

  Only Derek did not look to be overly ruffled by the unexpected developments unfolding all around them, his eyes constantly roving among the warriors. From what Logan had come to know of Derek, he surmised that his disciplined companion was carefully assessing the warriors’ intentions. He wished that he could ask Derek
what his initial impressions of them were.

  Logan pondered some of the thoughts tugging more strongly upon his mind. He had found it very intriguing that the old stranger in the blue garments, clearly a native to this strange world, had spoken the language of Logan’s group without any difficulty. It was even more curious that these woodland warriors spoke Logan’s own tongue so fluently.

  Logan was not about to believe that everyone within an entirely new world spoke his language. Something very strange was occurring.

  He glanced down at the blue stone pendant, as comprehension advanced in his mind. Though he knew he was taking a risk, he felt that he had to alert his companions that had not yet donned the amulets. The exchange with the surrounding warriors was tenuous at best, and Logan wanted everyone to be able to answer if questioned.

  “It’s something with the pendants,” he whispered to Janus, Derek, and Antonio. “Trust me.”

  The others looked towards him with puzzlement. Even Derek’s brow furrowed at Logan’s words.

  The warrior addressing them abruptly looked to Logan with a sharp gaze, before glancing back quickly to Erika. Logan froze in place, hoping that his whisper had not provoked the warrior.

  The warrior then looked past all of them, towards a couple of warriors that had just emerged from the woods. The two were now standing directly opposite him, on the other side of the trapped group.

  “They do not wield the dark magic,” one of the pair of emerging warriors proclaimed, holding out what appeared to be a large quartz crystal for all to see in his right hand. He stared intently at its glittering surface, before looking back up again. He nodded and continued in a confident tone. “I am sure of it. The woman is not a witch, and the men are not shamans. They do not use the dark magic.”

  The first warrior that had addressed them, the one that clearly appeared to be the band’s leader, looked back to Logan’s group. His steely look echoed the unyielding tension in the air as he silently regarded them.