Authors: Stephen Zimmer
Deganawida recalled his reflections upon the Unfier. The fact that the Unifier had once called down a column of fire from the sky, in front of a great multitude, was not what had resonated most powerfully in earlier times. As fantastical as that singular event had been, engulfing a popularly despised troublemaker within a spectacular inferno, it was a much more subtle quality regarding the Unifier that lingered and endured in the minds of men and women.
Galleans living in the eastern regions of their kingdom, while trading with the tribal peoples, had oft spoken of their experiences with the Unifier. They had remarked about His striking, comely appearance, as well as the flooding of warmth and confidence that they had all felt while in His presence. Even if the observer was just one amid a numerous throng, it was a very common impression that the Unifier could somehow focus on each and every individual comprising a larger group; all at the same time.
Some attributed the peculiar sensation to some mystical art, but most held that The Unifier simply held the special favor of the All-Father. Galleans, by and large, deemed the Unifier to be blessed in abundance from the vaults of Palladium, as He had quickly empowered prosperity and stability in their own lands.
He had succeeded where even the Peace of the All-Father movement of the Western Church had not, empowering a rising peace that had soon spread across the western lands. The Peace of the All-Father movement had merely slowed some of the excesses of the nobles, and harsher levels of suffering incurred by the peasants during the incessant warring among Gallean lords. By contrast, the Unifier had brought many long, bitter feuds to a complete halt, washing away fiery acrimony that had burned for generations in many instances.
Many in the western lands would have been taken sorely aback at Deganawida’s speculations, if offense was not taken outright. He was well aware that the populations of the lands under the shadow of the Unifier found it incomprehensible that the Five Realms and Midragard, as well as Saxany, had refused to acquiesce to the Unifier’s bold vision for all of Ave.
Yet as a tree could be identified by the kind of leaf or fruit that grew from its branches, so could the Unifier’s true nature be perceived in the actions that were being done on His behalf. The stones plummeting from the sky, and crashing down into tribal longhouses, indiscriminately shattering the bodies of man, woman, and child alike, were not the fruit of any being whose heart was aligned with the One Spirit.
The remembrances of the devastation inflicted upon his people inflamed tensions inside of Deganawida, as his mouth tightened. His dark eyes took on a sharper edge as he glanced towards Gunnar.
“No, this battle we now fight is just a small part of a much greater war, and we must not falter,” Deganawida said. “We may be overcome by numbers, but we must stand as long as we possibly can. I will hold them back with my last breath, if that is what is asked of me.”
“We shall hold them back, and we shall hold them back together,” Gunnar swiftly returned, a fierce temperament surging to the fore. “And you must not lose heart. Never forget that even if these are the last days, even if they are the darkest that have ever graced this world, it shall not change the side that I stand with, and proudly wield Golden Fury for.”
A slight smile pierced the stony countenance on Deganawida’s face. “I know that you are true, my friend. Please understand that my heart grows heavier by the day. My tribal brothers and sisters are being slain, and driven farther from their homelands with each day. We are being forced from the lands that we have known our entire lives. I fear that there will be no end to this, as long as we still live.”
“I fear that as well, my friend,” Gunnar said, calming down a little. “And this shadow will not spare the homelands of my people. But we must not lose heart. The worse that it may all seem, the more we must believe in what we fight for.”
The look of deep concern etched on Gunnar’s face at the beginning of their conversation had transformed into a visage of grim determination, and now it changed again. A stoic, largely unreadable expression manifested, as the Midragardan grew quiet. After a little time had passed, without another word being said, Gunnar turned his head away from Deganawida, and stared out into the night.
Deganawida settled himself down onto the hard earth, and soon drifted off into the depths of a dreamless sleep. It seemed as if he had just blinked, before everyone was being roused to continue the march.
Judging by the position of the moons, Deganawida deemed it to be just past the middle of the night. It was still a long way until the mists of the pre-dawn wafted through the trees, but there was a decidedly crisper chill to the air.
Deganawida’s sore muscles and stiffened joints complained loudly as he labored to limber up his old, aching body. The journey was resuming all too soon, at least for his own body’s needs, but the column of warriors had to take full advantage of the shroud of night.
Ayenwatha came by and spoke for a few moments with Deganawida, and the old sachem could read the sympathy in the war sachem’s eyes. The younger warrior was fully aware of the much greater burden being embraced by Deganawida, who did not enjoy the swiftness of recovery that those with fewer years did.
There were only a few Midragardans and tribal warriors that approached Deganawida’s age, but even they were better prepared, as their bodies had been honed and conditioned on a more regular basis than the elder sachem. Yet none of them would have noticed any difficulties in Deganawida, as he gave off an untroubled outward appearance, despite bearing a plague of throbs and spasms within.
Deganawida availed himself of a few mouthfuls of water, and a little more of the maple-sweetened cornmeal, before the column started forward again. The ensuing, final segment of the march proceeded far better than Deganawida expected, as they found themselves journeying into a younger part of the forest.
While it was accompanied by a steep increase in the prevalence of brush, the thinner canopy overhead allowed for more light to break through from above. The faint light cast by the stars filling the night sky, and the sharp luminance of the pair of moons, was enough to reveal virtually all obstacles in their path.
The warriors of the Five Realms serving as scouts and pathfinders knew every contour and change in the terrain. It was an advantage gained from switching scouting duties over to whomever was from the villages within a given area. Years of hunting and tracking had given the men invaluable knowledge and experience that now greatly benefited the night march.
While regrettably too brief, the extended rest had still served to bolster Deganawida’s spirit and energy. His mind, though vexed at the danger to his people, was not being weighed down further. There was nothing new to consider, or contemplate, at least until more information could be gained regarding the enemy’s movements and attacks. When the sky began to lighten, and a dampness permeated the forest, Deganawida knew that it would not be much longer before they engaged the enemy in battle.
Realizing that, the steady, crunching trod of Midragardan footsteps upon the forest floor was welcome music to Deganawida’s ears. At the very least, the people of the Five Realms would not be standing alone when the new day dawned.
*
Lee
*
Ryan planted a heavy, sideways kick into one of the soft mushroom stalks, breaking the monotony of his back and forth pacing within the underground forest. His foot plunged deep into the stalk, smashing through the softer outer surface, and causing the entire length to wobble and tilt.
Another well-placed kick sent the large stalk crashing down in the vicinity of three gallidils who were resting languidly along the bank of the underground river. The startled creatures hissed and snapped in alarm and irritation, whipping around in reflex. Scurrying on their short, stubby legs, they hastened toward the comfort of the river’s dark waters. Within seconds, all but their eyes were submerged within the flowing liquid haven.
“Done acting like a child?” Lee asked Ryan, with palpable indignation. “If I were you, I would want those things to be friends. We are in their territory.”
He gestured off towards the gallidils, a couple of which were staring back at them from the water, drifting a little closer back toward the shore. Lee mused that the unwavering gazes of the creatures might well be conveying extreme annoyance, at the prospect of nearly having a fungal stalk dropped unceremoniously onto their long, massive heads.
“We don’t know anything! We’re stuck in this so-called kingdom. If that’s what you want to call that pile of rocks. Who knows what’s going on up there anymore?” Ryan exclaimed angrily, pointing upwards.
He started to angle towards the nearest stalk offering a promising target for his foot.
Lee threw his hands up in disgust, irritated with the youth’s vandalism and tantrum. “Look, show some respect to their forest. We are here, whether we like it or not. We’ve got to deal with reality … as we still haven’t woken up from any dream, and we sure as hell haven’t figured out how to get back home.”
Lynn nodded in agreement, from where she stood to Lee’s right. “I can’t argue with that. We are the strangers here. We’re not in much of a bargaining position, Ryan, and we should just be glad the Unguhur took us in. Things could be a lot worse.”
Ryan whirled to face her, an irate expression across his face. He snapped, “And what have we heard? Nothing. We all know what is happening up above isn’t nothing. Nothing wouldn’t have made us come down here. Nothing wouldn’t cause bunches of their warriors to head towards the surface in such a hurry. You’ve seen that with your own eyes. And that … nothing … may very well trap us in this hole. I would like to have at least a running chance if things are going really badly. A fighting chance, with our backs to rivers infested with those creatures, doesn’t sound very good to me.”
“Ryan’s right about that,” Erin added, looking over towards Lee, a sullen, petulant mien on her own face. “A lot of tensions flying around here, but he’s got a point. Gunther went in to question that enemy prisoner. And you saw that Gunther found whatever that prisoner said important enough to leave right away … imporant enough to take all of the adult Jaghuns with him, without even saying a word to us about any of it. Don’t you think that might be because of something that could possibly trap us down here … just like Ryan says?”
The prisoner’s capture had been quite a surprise. The man had suddenly been dragged in by a band of Unguhur warriors, who had just returned from surprising a party of Avanoran squires out foraging. The presence of the squires in the vicinity, though still a fair distance away from Gunther’s homestead, was a troubling development.
The captured man had looked to be a rather ordinary Avanoran, but Gunther had reacted quickly when he had set his eyes upon him. Lee remembered looking back again at the man after observing Gunther’s stark reaction. He recalled feeling that the man was not particularly exceptional in appearance, and was certainly not adorned richly. He had been clad in a simple woolen tunic and trousers, along with a pair of rather plain, leather shoes. A conical helm, beaten out of one piece of iron, rested upon his head.
Lee had found the man’s hairstyle to be unusual, if not somewhat eccentric. It was a fashion whereby the man’s head was shaved high up on the backside, such that his short-cropped, dark hair only graced the front half of his head.
Thinking back on it, Lee realized that it had indeed been the removal of the man’s iron helm that had appeared to spark Gunther’s interest. The only explanation was that the strange, distinctive hairstyle was representative of something highly troubling to the woodsman.
Gunther had made a remark about the man being from Avalos itself, and had immediately asked the Unguhur permission to question the man directly, in private. There had been no opposition to the request, and a couple of Unguhur had helped to drag the man away, with Gunther following close behind. They had disappeared into the interior of a ground level chamber. It had not been long after when Gunther had departed with his fully-matured Jaghuns to the upper surface.
Lee placed his hands on his hips, as he turned to face in the direction of the river, watching the current crawling along. He remained silent for many moments, before slowly shaking his head.
He replied in a much calmer voice, devoid of the harsh edge that it had carried a moment earlier. “We are at the edge of coming apart. I can see that now. I don’t blame the way you feel. We all feel helpless, like we’re moving around blind. This isn’t our world, and this isn’t a place we know anything about. With a war going on right around us, we’re going to be at the mercy of others. We don’t have a choice in that. So far, Gunther and these beings … these Unguhur … have not exactly tried to kill us. We are going to have to risk a little trust somewhere.”
Ryan briskly walked over to face Lee, standing right in front of him, and looking him directly in the eye. Ryan’s face, exhibiting more than a hint of anger, curled into a darkened scowl. The look was not that different from the one that Ryan had given the fungal stalk that he had kicked so violently.
“And what the hell are you going to do when those Avanorans from the Unifier are pouring through here? Are you going to fight them all off? No? I didn’t think so. Then where ya gonna run to, Lee?” Ryan countered, in a mocking tone. “I, for one, do not want to be cornered in this murky cesspool, with a bunch of weird, primitive cave-dwellers, and those alligator-like things in the water.”
Lee’s disgust with Ryan’s impertinence spiraled quickly. They were all wearing their blue stone pendants, and Ryan’s insults towards their hosts could easily be understood, by any Unguhur overhearing the exchange.
“And what makes you think that there’s going to be anything coming down here?” Lee asked him, straining to keep his composure under control. “It’s not like there are big gaping passages down here. Doesn’t take a big number to defend a passage like the one we came down. Whatever you might think of these Unguhur, they are not anything I would ever want to fight.”