Crown of Vengeance Read online

  When they reached their camp, they skittered to a halt. Mershad almost tripped over his feet in the process and slammed into Logan’s back. Logan caught and steadied the young man, who was breathing heavily, before turning quickly to the sight that had stunned all of them.

  Janus’, Antonio’s, and Kent’s heads snapped about towards the other four with looks of surprise, clearly startled as the four bounded into the camp area. They were gathered around a tall, white-haired old man, clad in a wide-brimmed hat and long, flowing blue robes. The loose-fitting clothing on the old man did not hide the considerable broadness of the stranger’s shoulders, made more apparent by his very erect posture and confident disposition. Interestingly, the old man had remained entirely calm when the others had burst into the camp, showing no reaction whatsoever to their sudden emergence.

  Logan’s first reaction was to look all around the area rapidly, though he quickly discovered that the old man was the only individual outside of his own group within sight. The unexpected encounter disrupted Logan’s lingering tensions for only a moment, as the air and ground still carried hints of the army passing towards the north.

  Adding to the abrupt mystery, Logan noticed that Derek had a look of recognition upon his face as he looked towards the old man. Showing no signs of alarm at the presence of the stranger, Derek strode over towards Janus and came to stand by his friend’s side. Erika and Mershad stood quietly at Logan’s side, watching the others with caution.

  Logan watched the unfolding scene with growing interest and puzzlement, as the words of the old man cut through the air.

  “Forces in thrall to the Unifier pass near to you, though others would say that those are Gallean forces. In truth, they are all of the Unifier, in this darkening age,” the old man stated, his words carrying a distinct tinge of distaste. “You must not tarry in this place much longer, lest you fall into their hands. Go to the east. Others of a different mind will be found there. Ones who can be of help.”

  The old man then turned to face the newcomers who yet kept their distance, stepping slowly towards Erika, Mershad, and Logan. He moved with an easy, effortless step, showing no sign of infirmity or frailty despite his seemingly ancient years.

  Logan found himself staring right into the old man’s lone blue eye, for the other was fully covered by a patch. Logan could not read the expression of the stranger, as the old man’s mouth was nestled within an abundance of white that descended to his upper chest.

  The transfixing gaze appeared to be generating a jeweled sparkle within its cerulean depths, a timeless evocation that belied the apparent age of the stranger’s physical appearance. It was a look brimming with vitality, alertness, and wisdom, and the stranger’s seemingly advanced years were as nothing in context of the ageless look reflected in that single, mesmerizing eye.

  Logan tried to concentrate upon the old man, but found that it was increasingly difficult to gather his thoughts, as if his mental focus was slipping, and swiftly becoming hazy. For no explicable reason, the new development did not frighten Logan in the least. If anything, he felt an absence of danger in the immediate presence of the old man, and even his badly shaken nerves were bolstered by the inexplicable placidity that washed over him.

  “And you three, with your friend over there, have all seen the strength of the Unifier’s forces for yourselves. Your own eyes do not lie. You saw what you saw, a river of power that is nothing compared to the vast seas of power beyond it,” the old man stated firmly, his voice deep and resonant.

  “The Unifier?” Derek responded from next to Janus, “Who is the Unifier? And where is that army going?”

  “Some would say those forces herald the genesis of a new order, brought forth out of the lands of Avanor, a land far to the west from where you now stand. The truly wise would see something from a much older order, one more ancient than the world itself,” the blue-robed man explained somberly. “The Unifier. … A leader cloaked in fair countenance, attractive and charming to all who behold Him, but wielding a terrible, dominating force that comes from the very depths of the Abyssal Realms themselves.”

  The old man paused, and his countenance darkened, as if contemplating a particularly troubling thought. When he continued again, his voice was lower, and his tone deeply solemn.

  “And the true wisdom is this; the Unifier is just a steward. He is a steward of another far more powerful Entity … though very few in this world, in lands under His influence, would be willing to say so openly. And still others are foolish enough to embrace Him knowingly, even aware that He is a steward, and conscious of the One that He is a steward for. Such are the ones who are most steeped in madness within this troubled world.”

  “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 i
n 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, li
ke 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.