Authors: Stephen Zimmer
“What has happened? Why is there such haste?” Ayenwatha asked Eirik.
The Midragardan’s attitude was such an anomaly in comparison to his normal disposition. Something was seriously amiss, and given recent events Ayenwatha was not feeling overly patient.
“I know little more than what you already know, Ayenwatha. The king is very troubled at the news of the brutal attacks upon your villages. He is also greatly troubled by the news of the seven that you found in your lands. He does not want to risk the loss of time, not even a moment,” Eirik stated, the insistence surging again within the warrior’s voice.
“Very well, I shall go with you then,” Ayenwatha replied after a moment’s consideration, giving his acquiescence with a single, purposeful nod.
“King Hakon also asks that you allow him to keep the outlanders safe within the Midragardan lands,” Eirik said. “But they must not travel upon Fenraren.”
This unexpected request gave Ayenwatha some initial pause, but Eirik continued speaking before the Onan war sachem had a chance to reply.
“We do not know who they are, for certain. But if they are sought by our enemies, then the skies will be far more dangerous to traverse than the seas,” Eirik stated, his voice firm. “It is advised that the outlanders travel upon our longships, for any journey to Midragard. Their path will be slower, but there will be less chance of them being discovered. And once in our lands, they will be much safer than in yours. No enemies muster upon our borders, and any enemy desiring to harm Midragard will have to cross the seas first.”
The Midragardan looked a little reticent, if not regretful. Ayenwatha perceived that Eirik was feeling a great aversion at having to openly speak of the threats to Ayenwatha’s own homelands. He fell silent for several long moments, as he pondered the solemn words of Eirik. A momentous decision lay before Ayenwatha, and he had to make it quickly.
There was no reason to mistrust the Midragardan King, and nothing that Eirik had said sounded unwise. The friendship between Midragard and the Five Realms had been strong and fruitful for a great many years. The reputation of King Hakon’s wisdom and integrity stood far beyond that of any foreign leader that Ayenwatha’s ears had ever heard account of, with the possible exception of the latest King of Saxany.
Ayenwatha therefore regarded Eirik’s message in a spirit of genuine goodwill. Its origin was from the very mouth of a king who was beloved by his own people, and well-respected by others. The king’s effect upon his people had been transforming. That, more than anything else, spoke the loudest concerning the king’s nature.
The legendary raiding tendencies of the Midragardans were now very diminished from what they had been many years before. Occasional Midragardan freebooters and pirates still existed, but were much reduced in number. Under King Hakon’s leadership, they were rooted out and subdued wherever they were found.
King Hakon was effectively ushering in a new age for Midragard. It said much about the man that he had reined in the heated impulses of young, landless warriors, who had formed the greater proportion of the devastating raiding fleets in ages past. Ayenwatha could relate to such a profound period of change, as the Wizard Deganawida had revealed a higher vision for his own ancestors.
Adding to Ayenwatha’s conviction about King Hakon was the fact that there was no real good reason for Midragard to lead the tribes of the Five Realms astray. Even when Midragard had been ruled by a mosaic of warrior chieftains and petty kings, when raiding both each other and foreign lands was a common pursuit, the Five Realms had held little attraction for the ravenous appetites of the seaborne raiders. The two lands did not share the same passion for precious metals, forged weapons, or jewels. The western lands with their considerable material wealth were much more inviting targets, abundant in gold, silver, and captives.
Learning very quickly that they would face a formidable enemy and gain little to nothing in plunder for their efforts, Midragard’s raiders soon turned away from conflict with the tribes. There was continued contact, and the roots of trade had gradually developed. The Midragardans no longer referred to the tribal peoples by the slightly derogatory term of skraelings, but instead began to identify the native peoples according to their individual tribes.
Friendship between the two peoples had thus grown and prospered. Trade had expanded, with the Five Realms providing primarily furs, in return for the Midragardans providing forged arrowheads, spearheads, axe-heads, and other forms of metal work that were of practical use to the tribal people.
In the time of King Hakon, that relationship had never been better. If there was ever a chance to gain significant help for the Five Realms, Ayenwatha knew that the possibility lay the strongest with King Hakon.
Also weighing heavily upon his inner deliberation was the matter of the seven exiles. He had heard of the legends regarding visitors from other worlds, tales that were common in the west, and known to the Midragardans as well. While it was true that the seven foreigners might not be the ones prophesied in those ancient stories, Ayenwatha did not want to take any chances, or make any loose assumptions, within the increasingly dark, turbulent age.
Above all, he could not deny the stark realities facing his own lands, the conditions involving Midragard, and the level of threats likely to face each of them in the near future. The Midragardans were unquestioned masters of the sea, and were the only peoples occupying their far southern lands. They resided very far from Avalos, and Eirik was absolutely correct in saying that any future threat would have to cross the seas first.
Ayenwatha’s own lands, by contrast, were under a massive, immediate threat. It was already to the point where his people were being effectively exiled from their own tribal lands. There was no question at all that, of the two places, the safest refuge for the exiles would be in Midragard; if they could be safely conveyed there.
The answer was fairly simple, even if Ayenwatha had felt the responsibility to carefully deliberate it. Ayenwatha took a deep breath, and looked Eirik squarely in the eyes.
“It will be done as you wish, my friend,” Ayenwatha announced, clasping Eirik’s forearm, in the tradition of the Midragardan people. With his answer, Ayenwatha put an unprecedented amount of trust in the Midragardans.
“I will stand by you in all things, my friend. Never forget that. We share the same enemies, and we will face them together. But let us make haste now. We must waste no more time,” Eirik stated with urgency.
Ayenwatha nodded, and turned quickly to explain the situation to the others with him. Confused expressions met him as he began to address the exiles, and the looks did not entirely leave their faces when he finished.
“To Midragard?” asked Antonio in apparent disbelief. “We’ll be leaving your people behind?”
Ayenwatha watched the paunchy young man look over at the rough-looking assemblage of Midragardan warriors nearby. Ayenwatha had to remind himself that while he was entirely at ease with the Midragardans, it was not surprising that one who was very unfamiliar with the fierce southern warriors could react with such outward anxiety.
“Then what will happen with you? Or your people?” Erika asked, her voice demonstrating that she was much more concerned than nervous.
Ayenwatha smiled kindly at the tough young woman, appreciating her regard for his people and himself. “Who can know the future? Who can say what will happen when a new day rises? I must go to seek help for my people, and you must be safeguarded from danger. My people can no longer offer you any refuge.”
“Then why should we not fly with you?” the brooding, dark-haired one named Logan asked.
“Eirik speaks truly,” Ayenwatha replied. “A long flight such as this is very dangerous. The steeds will be very hard pressed, and not in a great enough number that we can resist a concentrated attack. No, we will be very vulnerable, and the risk of taking you through the skies is far too great. I must take this risk myself, as I seek to return quickly to my people. But this is no journey for you. We must take all precautions, in getting you to Midragard without harm.”
Logan scowled in the wake of Ayenwatha’s answer, and his brow furrowed.
“So what is it with us? There is something about us that you know, and are not saying. Am I right?” he asked sharply.
“You are,” Derek said abruptly to Logan, before turning towards Ayenwatha. “You wish to take no risks with us, and take such great cautions, when your own people are under such a terrible plight. Why? What compels you to do this?”
Ayenwatha looked slowly from Logan to Derek, holding their unwavering gazes for a few moments, and then glanced towards the rest of the exiles.
“I cannot lie to you,” he said. “I do not know for sure about such things, as they are mysterious to me, but it is just possible that you may be the ones who have been foreseen.”
“Foreseen? You mean prophesied?” Mershad asked, his tone full of obvious incredulity.
Mershad was not alone in his reaction, as Ayenwatha could see that the others viewed the notion as preposterous.
“In the book of the new religion,” interjected Eirik. “I have heard such things spoken of by priests and monks. It is always said that we should look out for those who come from another world.”
“What does this … book … say?” Logan inquired slowly, his face somber, and his curiosity clearly piqued. He eyed Eirik and Ayenwatha with great expectancy.
“I do not read, so I have not read this book for myself,” Eirik replied. “I only know what has been spoken of by those who can. It speaks of the end times, an End of Days, and the coming of those from a very foreign land, understood to be a different world.”
“It is not unlike some legends of our own,” Ayenwatha then added. “These tales speak of many signs. I remember little of the stories that I have heard in my youth regarding this, but I have heard some of the tales of this book of the new religion more recently. They speak of many strange things. They speak of those who will come from another world, who will break the barriers between worlds. They will help to bring about the power of the One Spirit, the Sky Lord, as we see the Creator, into this world … to undo the work of evil. It is said that a new, undying age will then come.”
“These stories also speak of the great threat of Jebaalos, the Dark Ruler of the Abyss,” Eirik then commented bluntly. “All the legends are clear that those who come from another world must not be claimed by Jebaalos. It is said that Jebaalos will tirelessly hunt them down, to control them for His own purposes.”
The words were plainly not the ones that the outlanders wanted to hear. Ayenwatha could see that reflected in their subdued, tense expressions in the wake of Eirik’s words, as well as the lightened pallor that came to more than one of their faces.
While they might find it entirely incomprehensible to believe that they could have specifically been prophesied, Ayenwatha could see the dilemma that they were facing. He could see they understood that if others merely believed such a thing, that they were the result of a prophecy, then they would still have to deal with the consequences.
In such a context, Ayenwatha certainly could not blame them for their trepidation. The daunting idea that a dark ruler of the abyss would be actively searching for them, and assiduously endeavoring to take hold of them, was no doubt more than unsettling.
“So you think that the prophecy is really talking about … us?” Kent asked hesitantly.
“Who can say? It is said that no man knows of the time when the All-Father will manifest His Power in the world again, to bring an end to this world. I have even heard it said that even Emmanu Himself did not know when this moment would occur,” Eirik said in a lowered voice.
“I have known no others such as you,” Ayenwatha told the exiles. “I cannot say that you are here because of these prophetic visions. But I also cannot say that you are not. I also do know that it would be unwise to think that I know for certain that you are not. The consequences of being wrong are far too terrible to imagine, and I will not take any risks.”
“Well, I’m not part of any prophecy, nor do I ever want to be,” Janus said, a sharp edge of resentment in his voice. “I never asked for any of this, not for a moment.”
“Nor did my people,” Ayenwatha replied gently. “What is … still is.”
Janus abruptly looked downward, and cursed under his breath. Ayenwatha could see that the man felt ashamed for speaking so suddenly.
“It is okay, Janus. There are times when none of us want what is given to us in this life. They say that the Sky Lord has reasons for all things, but I do not believe that the Sky Lord chooses ill for some of us,” Ayenwatha replied. “The world must take its course, whatever course that may be. It means that great evil can exist. It means terrible things can happen unexpectedly. It also means that great good can exist, and great good can happen unexpectedly too.”
“And I, for one, will fight to defend what is good,” Eirik interjected.
“And I will too,” Janus added gently, nodding his agreement with Eirik.
“What else do these prophecies say?” Mershad then questioned.
“You will have to ask one of the priests,” Eirik replied with a shrug. “I only know a little. I know that King Hakon believes that our situation is very serious. I know also that you would not wish to be taken captive by the Unifier.”
“What do you wish to do?” Ayenwatha asked the exiles suddenly.
Eirik was about to comment, but held back, keeping silent at a brief, forceful gesture from Ayenwatha.
The seven otherworlders looked back at Ayenwatha, apparently taken off guard by the bluntness of the question. Gradually, they started to look at each other, and Ayenwatha knew that they were realizing that none of them had any other viable alternative to offer for deliberation. He wanted them to come to that conclusion on their own.
“It is a choice to go nearer to a war, or to go away from one,” Mershad remarked in a low voice.
Being that he was one of the quietest of the exiles, Ayenwatha was a little surprised that he had ventured the first opinion. Janus then clenched his teeth, with a look that reflected some unspoken realization that had taken place inside of him.