Crown of Vengeance Page 37

  Furthermore, there were no troubling suspicions raised by any of the council members in their lengthy orations.

  Deganawida’s hopes rose incrementally throughout the parade of speeches. He knew that Ayenwatha already felt very strongly about the seven, and Deganawida himself saw something very monumental in the abrupt appearance of the seven strangers.

  Deganawida, like Ayenwatha, would abide by the consensus of the village council. Yet also like Ayenwatha, Deganawida greatly desired to have the seven harbored amongst the Onan, as their greater purpose was fathomed.

  On a deeper level, he also did not want to see them sent unprepared out of the village, and left to the mercy of the wilderness. Such a thing would be far beneath what the Onan stood for, and would be a failure on many levels.

  In addition, there was the very real dilemma facing the tribe of having the seven turned away, only to discover later that they were truly the ones heralded by ancient prophecy.

  White Flower, the great Clan Matron of the Bear Clan who had been highly influential in Deganawida’s position in the village and Grand Council, also shared his many concerns. Before the council had taken place, Deganawida had spoken with the wizened matron, receiving encouragement and advice that had reinforced him greatly going into the meeting.

  Her heavily creased face did not diminish the lively sparkle in her eyes, as she counseled Deganawida to listen to his deepest inclinations on the matter. Her passion for the well-being of her village and tribe richly emanated through her words and demeanor. She had reminded him that he had always based his own positions on what was just, and that he could never really fail in using such a measure.

  White Flower never told Deganawida what he should or should not do, or what to think. Yet when he had left her presence just a short time before the council, Deganawida was certain that his heartfelt inclinations had White Flower’s full blessing.

  Deganawida now brought those deep inclinations into his words when he spoke to the members of the counsel. He freely spoke about his perceptions of the seven, the timing of their appearance, the prophecies, their great vulnerabilities, and his hope that they could find haven among the Onan.

  He cautioned the village council to bear in mind that whatever their origin or place in events, the guests were each living human spirits brought into being by He Who Holds the Sky. He implored them to do what was right for the seven on a human level, irrespective of their importance in larger matters.

  His advocacy in their favor was strong, but when he sat back down again there still remained a few very influential speakers who had not yet had their turn.

  The council meeting grew to be very long in duration, as they tended to be when everyone could speak without being limited in their address. A little anxiety danced at the edge of Deganawida’s hopes, as a few more individuals spoke in clear favor of the seven.

  Deganawida knew that he was very close to achieving consensus.

  Finally, at long last, one of the most respected of the clan sachems rose up to take his turn to speak. Deganawida leaned a little forward, very curious as to the thoughts and leanings of the venerable sachem.

  The air was at its thickest, filled with the scents of the smoke, tobacco, and the sweaty musk of the men filling the space.

  The clan sachem named Garakontie would be the last one to speak, but his words were the most momentous of the entire council. The sachem could sway consensus with just a few short sentences, something that troubled Deganawida when he knew that he was so very close to securing full agreement from the council.

  Long of nose and face, Garakontie, when seen at certain angles, took on an uncanny likeness to the spirited tree dwellers for which his Shadow Flyer clan was named. Like those hardy little forest creatures, he was tenacious, and acutely sensitive in his approaches to strangers.

  The Shadow Flyers rendered their judgements very quickly in the wilderness. If something was not deemed to be a threat, the little animals did not hesitate to be seen and heard, whereas a true threat caused them to vanish in a flash of an instant.

  While not inclined to make much noise or vanish, Garakontie was never long in his own evaluations of strangers. As far as Deganawida could remember, the Shadow Flyer sachem had always been amazingly accurate about which strangers should be embraced, and which should be shunned. Charm, appearance, and silken words did not deceive Garakontie in the least. He was uncannily adept at getting to the underlying realities, and was never hesitant about expressing any misgivings that came to him. His counsel had been proven correct in hindsight, time and time again.

  In such a light, Deganawida listened closely and attentively to Garakontie’s words.

  “Deganawida, Clan Sachems, and Wise Ones, I cannot say that these are ordinary times, and I am not certain that ordinary answers can be the correct ones,” Garakontie stated solemnly. “Much is amiss in our world, at a time when we should be concerned only about the migrations of the eel and salmon, the deer hunts, the clearing of fields, the planting of crops, and matters of trade.

  “The appearance of the seven strangers, I believe, is no coincidence with the events that have been unfolding. I also believe that it is no coincidence that they came into the hands of Ayenwatha’s war party, so soon after encountering the Wanderer.

  “Only He Who Holds the Sky knows the pure truth, but we still must do our best to gain a clear sight of the matters facing our village, our tribe, the Five Realms, and indeed, the entire world. I cannot speak for the entire world, the Five Realms, or even our tribe, but I can say what I see within our village.

  “And now, I will tell you truly what I feel.

  “I observed the seven carefully at the feast. I can see no hint of the Adversary’s touch upon any of them. Not even a shadow or a hint of the Adversary’s corruption.

  “You all already know that they have passed the crystal test, put to them when Ayenwatha’s war party came upon them.

  “There is much to them that we do not know, but I say that they are here for a purpose of the One Spirit. I firmly believe that we must shelter and protect them from the Adversary, and from the Unifier. I believe that He Who Holds the Sky will guide us rightly in this path.”

  It was one of the shorter addresses, but Deganawida could not have asked for any better support. The words of Garakontie were comforting and reinforcing to Deganawida’s own inclinations. He knew that the clan sachem wielded a great influence with the others, all of whom valued Garakontie’s great ability to fathom the underlying spirit of individuals.

  Deganawida slowly arose as Garakontie concluded and took his seat once again. The village Headman was buoyed further by the looks that he now saw upon the faces of the clan sachems and Wise Ones.

  It then came as no surprise when the village council fully supported providing a place of refuge and protection for the seven unusual guests.

  There were a few parameters put in place, all of which Deganawida found to be very reasonable. The guests would be diligently watched and observed from a distance, and they would continue to be evaluated and measured for any ill signs. They would also be put under guard whenever going outside of the village boundary.

  Most importantly, though, they would be given a true place of welcome within the Onan village. They would not be turned away expeditiously, and cast into the woods to fend for themselves.

  When the meeting had been brought to a close, and the sachems and Wise Men had departed the longhouse, Deganawida was left with a tranquil and invigorating feeling of relief.

  In a way, the village council had just passed a test, further justifying the confidence placed in them by the clan matrons.

  They had not had their judgement blinded by the terrible pressure of the looming war. Nor had they rushed to an expedient decision in the hopes of avoiding perceived risks. They had acted reasonably, and with foresight and resolve, and for that Deganawida’s own heart was greatly uplifted.

  A time of great pressure and imminent threat could easily move me
n from wisdom to utter recklessness, and see otherwise compassionate men become cruel and pitiless. Courage often gave way to mere self-preservation in the grip of such trying times, bringing about acts that bordered on the heartless and the barbarous.

  Yet the true measure of a man, Deganawida well knew, was whether he became a monster during such a time, or still remained a man.

  The storm facing all of them had not dissipated, and would only gather in strength as the hours passed, but the early signs regarding the steadfastness of the village leadership were indeed encouraging.

  He could only hope that it was a harbinger for the way that the other villages, and even the Grand Council, would be in the difficult days to come.

  Deganawida mused to himself in the wake of the council that a small victory had truly been achieved. He would gladly savor it as he sat within the quiet chamber, as all good moments needed to be celebrated.

  Without a doubt, one truth had been established. The members of the village council for The Place of Far Seeing were still indeed men.

  Section V

  DRAGOL

  Dragol and the other Trogen riders guided their steeds downward, to skim along at a slower pace just a short distance above the uppermost reach of the trees. Fanning out in a wide formation, they were able to survey a fairly extensive swathe of land, doubling and tripling their passes to make sure that no swatch of ground went uncovered.

  Though more vulnerable to arrows, as they were within the average range of a Saxan bow, the lower altitude formation still gave them some advantages. It helped to lessen the chances of an advance warning being given by a lookout watching the high skies. An unaware enemy presence along the ground was also more likely to be detected before they could melt among the shadows and foliage beneath the Trogens.

  Dragol knew that any Saxans within the woodlands were likely to be very capable in such skills. His own kind was adept at concealment in their own lands, and not just due to the ever-present threats from the Elven menace. Navigating the dangers of the wilderness demanded the ability to become motionless in a flash of time, to be able to quickly shroud oneself in forest growths, and to snap into total silence.

  The Trogen’s sharp eyes watched carefully for any hints of movement beneath the canopy, but nothing stirred. No signals arose from any of his riders either during the broad search.

  Light would be fading soon, and Dragol could not deny the fact that no creature on foot could outdistance the considerable area that they had covered through the sky. Frustration now boiled within him, his patience wearing steadily thinner with the approach of the sun’s descent.

  One of his riders abruptly cried out.

  The tensions vanished instantly, adrenaline sparking within him as the cry reached his triangular-shaped ears. Without hesitation, Dragol deftly maneuvered his Harrak to the left and dug in his heels, spurring the quickly responsive creature to accelerate to full speed.

  As a unit, the other riders were doing likewise as they honed in upon the area signaled by their comrade.

  LEE

  An arduous day’s march had ended mercifully, one in which the group had decided to turn inward and continue deeper into the forest. The primary motive was to take themselves farther away from the edge of the woodlands, before they searched out their next camp site.

  Lee’s argument had won out over the option of continuing along the boundary of the woods. He had reasoned that the horse riders were limited to the open land, as his group had not come across any significant trails leading into the woods. Furthermore, if the bestial warriors were at war with the horse riders then they would also be concentrating on the territory where the horse riders were most likely to be found.

  The others found the rationale to be sound, and around mid-day they had headed due east, pushing into the depths of the forest. By the cusp of evening, the energy regained during the previous night’s rest was utterly spent.

  The hike had gone largely without incident, the greatest surprise coming when Lynn had suddenly given Lee a pinch on the arm. Looking over at her with a startled expression, Lee had followed her gesture to where a black and white plumaged bird with a long tail appeared to be regarding them from a tree branch.

  “I heard about these birds once before,” Lynn said. “One magpie’s supposed to be bad luck, unless you do one of a couple remedies. Can’t remember the rest, but pinching a companion was one I remembered.”

  Lee shook his head and grinned, “Just my luck, that you didn’t remember something a little less stinging.”

  “Don’t want bad luck now, do you?” Lynn retorted with a chuckle. Though she was visibly tired, Lee was gladdened to see the sparkle in her.

  Lee had raised his eyebrow, and looked over at Ryan and Erin. “Don’t forget to pinch each other. We don’t need any more bad luck than we’ve had already.”

  “I’m not superstitious,” Erin had replied in a disinterested tone.

  “I’m not too worried either,” Ryan had added.

  “I think you can salute them too, or at least I think I remember that from the same source I got the other information,” Lynn had then said.

  “Salute the bird, you say?” Ryan responded with an impish timbre. “Well, why didn’t you say so first?”

  He had then proceeded to stare at the bird with a mischievous glint in his eyes. A grin had spread upon his face, as he then raised his right hand and prominently directed a vulgar gesture towards the magpie.

  The magpie might well have been insulted, as it had emitted a few rather brusque cries in the wake of Ryan’s disrespectful acknowledgement. The timing was uncanny.

  “There, a single-finger salute for the damn bird, delivered in classic New York style, just in case the pinch didn’t work,” Ryan had added, chortling. “Thanks for the advice on that, Lynn! That’ll make sure we don’t’ saddle you all with more bad luck.”

  “You should take issues of bad luck more seriously,” Lynn had chided him lightheartedly. She then laughed aloud, “But there’s no denying you saluted the bird … or flipped that bird the bird, you could say.”

  “I figured I could be creative. We’re already immersed in bad luck,” Ryan had retorted in dismissive fashion, as his waves of self-amused laughter simmered down.

  “See? None of the precautions were really necessary, either of yours. I prefer Ryan’s version. It was a little less painful,” Lee had said to Lynn and Ryan, rubbing his arm where she had pinched him and evoking a little more laughter from the both of them.

  He was grateful for the momentary levity. Yet in truth, Lee had felt unsettled all through the day, from the break of dawn until the woodland shadows had begun to grow and deepen.

  Lee still felt the unease deep inside him as they finally drew to a halt, taking seats on the great roots of an immense, old oak tree. He took note of some primrose that was spreading within the vicinity of the ancient, mighty oak.

  Nearby, high in the branches of another tree, was a large nest belonging to a sharp-beaked bird, whose graceful flight was a joy to watch above the forest’s ceiling. The sizeable bird’s thin call carried far, its long tail twisting as it changed course in the upper heights.

  The four conversed amongst themselves for some time, fatigue doing nothing to dull Erin’s sharp attitude, or Ryan’s temper. Lynn and Lee had to nurse the overall harmony of the group along as they discussed their frustrations and condition, and took account of their current situation.

  Before very long, Lee was fighting back the overwhelming urge to doze, summoning every ounce of his will to remain focused. He knew that the group would have no choice but to muster enough energy to set up a new shelter for the coming night. Day was starting to fade, and there would not be much more strong light left to work by.

  Lee was about to get up to his feet, when he was startled abruptly by a forceful outcry that shattered the relative tranquility.

  The invasive shouts hurtled down upon them from the sky, from just above the tops of the trees, as a l
arge shadow flitted across the ground. Lee was unable to tell who or what it was, though his heart caught in his throat. The cry evoked the raw memories of the brutal scene that they had witnessed at the edge of the woodlands, but Lee could not be for certain. The form of the flying entity passing overhead was thoroughly distorted by the overlying mesh of tree branches.

  Lee cast a glance towards the others.

  Lynn jumped up quickly from her place of repose, her eyes wide with fear. Ryan reached quickly for the bow at his side, fumbling with it clumsily in his urgency and frayed anxiety.

  Erin was no longer keeping her moody distance from the other three. She stumbled in her maddened haste, crawling on hands and knees to get near the others.

  They all looked frantically along the top of the treeline. Even without seeing its form, Lee knew that there was little chance of mistaking the outcry that had come from such a close proximity. Each small patch of unbroken sky was watched assiduously, as they all became statues of flesh and bone.

  It only took a few more moments to confirm the nature of what flew above them.

  Just visible through a small opening in the treeline, one of the flying steeds passed into view with a rider on its back. There was no urgency in the movements of the creature, as it glided upon the air currents in a circuitous route around their position.

  Lee’s heart sank as he watched the non-human rider gazing down upon them from its lofty perch. There was little mistaking its intention. It was marking their position for others.

  Lee and Lynn frantically grabbed weapons, Lee taking up one of the remaining bows and Lynn grabbing the hilt of the sword that she had claimed. Though very afraid, Lee kept his hands steady and his countenance cool, as he drew long breaths and notched an arrow to the bowstring.

  Lynn floundered a little with her sword, in her frenetic confusion about where to position herself, nearly dropping the weapon in the process. She was far from comfortable with the blade, and Lee knew that if it came to fighting on the ground, Lynn would be in great trouble.