Traveling west for about an hour, Hawkeye stopped at the base of a large hill that was nestled deep in the forest. There were numerous tracks leading to the top. No attempt had been made to hide these tracks. It was as if whoever made them didn’t care who found them.
Dropping to his knees, Hawkeye studied the tracks better. There were at least five separate and distinct tracks, all humanoid, all wearing moccasins. Furrowing his brow at this, Hawkeye gazed at the top of the hill.
Speaking softly to himself, “As far as I know, only highlanders wear moccasins. Are these tracks of friends or foes? I better be extra careful. Five to one are not the greatest odds.” A wicked smile crept over his harsh features, “Of course, they aren’t the worst either.”
That’s when the wind shifted slightly; no longer coming from the north bringing tidings of snow but from the northwest the wind flowed over the hill carrying the scents of smoke and roasting meat. Even more puzzled, Hawkeye slowly crept up the southeast side of the hill. His progress was slow and cold. By the time he reached the crest, he was covered from head to toe in snow and took in the strange scene before him.
Gathered around a small campfire were five highlanders. Studying them carefully, Hawkeye recognized them as the warlords from the Boar, Raven, Owl, Puma and Lynx tribes. They were seated around the campfire roasting a deer. Seeming relaxed, their weapons were still within easy reach. Odovacar was the only warrior Hawkeye actually knew by name but he knew the rest by their reputation, each were fierce warriors in their own right.
Odovacar held up his hand “Quiet!” Hawkeye could hear his deep voice even at this distance. Looking around at the surrounding darkness, Odovacar spoke again. “He comes.”
The others casually glanced at the darkness.
Seeing nothing gained by staying in the snow, Hawkeye stood up. Brushing off the snow, he walked slowly into the firelight. Odovacar met him halfway, holding out his right arm, palm open and empty.
Grasping it firmly Hawkeye asked, “Well met my friend. What’s going on?”
Gesturing toward an empty log near the fire Odovacar said, “Have a seat. We’ve been waiting for you.”
Taking the offered seat, Hawkeye studied the other warlords. Each nodded their heads in a form of greeting. Returning their nods, he looked back at Odovacar and waited for the coming explanation.
Odovacar held out a piece of roasted deer on his knife. “Would you like some venison?” Gesturing at the Puma warlord he added, “Golden Wind is a wonderful cook.”
Hawkeye shook his head. “Thank you but no. It will only slow me down tonight. What I would like is an explanation.”
“It’s really very simple. You win.”
“What do you mean, I win?”
“Just what I said, you win. We,” gesturing at the other four warlords, “agree with what you are trying to do. Therefore, we submit. There is no reason for us to come to blows. We believe you are the only one that has a chance of saving the Highland Nation. Besides, Luna chose you to raise the child of prophecy. So, who are we to challenge her will?”
When Golden Wind spoke his voice was soft and subtle, yet held the hint of authority. “The other three Warlords didn’t agree with us, especially Red Ferret. He does not like you for some reason.”
Pulling out Red Ferret’s braid with two red feathers still attached to one end. Hawkeye twirled it around so everyone could see. “I have a feeling he will like me even less now.”
The Lynx warlord shouted, “You killed him!”
“No, but the thought did cross my mind. He is unharmed. I left him the same way I found him, asleep in the bushes.”
The shocked looks on everyone’s face, confirmed what he already suspected, that Red Ferret had crossed the last line. A warrior might be rude, mean and spiteful and still everyone would look the other way. But to be derelict in their duties was another thing. Red Ferret would not be chieftain or warlord of the Red Fox tribe for much longer. Hawkeye noticed Odovacar clenching his fists, time and time again.
When Odovacar finally spoke again, his deep voice was edged with nearly uncontrolled rage. “Don’t worry about Red Ferret. I will take care of him personally. My pack shares hunting grounds with the Red Fox tribe. If he would fall asleep during this ritual, what would he do in the upcoming war or if my pack was attacked? No, I will take care of Red Ferret. I will see to it that he is no longer a member of the Great Council or holds a position of power in his tribe or any other.”
Placing a gentle hand on Odovacar’s shoulder, Golden Wind spoke softly. “Relax my brother. Your rage is understandable but a waste of energy. Red Ferret has disgraced himself and he will pay for his crimes. Don’t let anger cloud your thinking or you will do something you regret.” Odovacar nodded at the wise words. Golden Wind turned to face Hawkeye. “Is there anything else we can do?”
“No my friends, you have done enough. I will see all of you at the celebration tomorrow night.” Moving back down the hill, Hawkeye disappeared into the darkness.
Several huge, unblinking eyes watched as Hawkeye left the campfire and moved into the forest. Turning, they slowly backed down the other side of the hill and headed off in the same general direction as Hawkeye.
* * * * *
Returning to the village, Tatianna paused in the doorway of her small tipi. She was exhausted from the stress of the last few days and the hike through the deep snow had not helped. Glancing down at herself, she noticed remnants of the heavy snow still clinging to her soft leather boots. Sitting down on her sleeping furs, she pulled off one boot and tossed it across the tipi. Landing with a soft thump near the small fire, some of the snow flew off to land in the fire. With a quick sizzle, it was gone. A moment later the second boot followed, along with all of her clothes. They all landed a few feet away from the fire.
Climbing under the thick pile of furs for warmth, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Tossing and turning, Tatianna tried to get comfortable but nothing seemed to help. Her mind kept replaying all of the events of the last several months. She thought of the loss of her twin brothers and the surly dwarf Rjurik. Her mind froze on the events at the Shrine of Luna. She could see in her mind’s eye all that transpired that night. Although she knew it had happened to her, she felt detached from the events and for the first time since her rape she let her mind dwell on the reality of being pregnant. Even after her trip to the realm of the Gods, she had not let herself think about being a mother. She had thrown herself into the mission given to her by Aurora, to raise and train the child of the prophecy.
Throwing back the furs, she stood up quickly. Walking over to her backpack, she pulled out a small silver mirror. It was no more than three or four inches in diameter but she set it on the ground near the fire. Closing her eyes for a moment, she called upon the magic at her disposal. Pointing at the small mirror, she spoke in a commanding tone. “Thera Engarage!”
The mirror slowly expanded until it was about four feet in diameter. Propping it up, Tatianna studied her reflected image.
Although not extremely tall, her long legs were shapely and well defined. They were not too muscular to be unattractive but they were very athletic and strong. Turning slightly, she studied her profile. Her breasts were shapely and firm, not as large as some of the woman in the highland village but not as small as some either. She thought them to be the perfect size, large enough to accent her figure nicely but not too big to be a hindrance in battle. Glancing at her stomach, it remained flat and muscular. A slight grimace crept over her face; there were no visible signs of her pregnancy, yet. She knew that sometime over the next year and half all that would change as the child grew inside her. It also meant her life would have to change. She would no longer be free and alone. There would be a child dependent on her for his life. This one thought scared her more than facing Blackfang and his army.
Shaking her head, she turned away from the mirror and was about to return to her bed when she spied the necklace given to her by Hawkeye and she felt the h
air at the back of her neck rise. The feeling of dread that had plagued her all day was back.
“That does it! I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”
Opening a small wooden chest that sat at the foot of her sleeping furs, she pulled out several talismans, three wooden bowls and five crystal vials and brought them to the edge of the fire. Sitting cross-legged, she placed her possessions within easy reach. Opening three of the vials, she poured the powder contents into the bowls. Closing her eyes, she took ten deep breaths. Holding each for several seconds before releasing them, she felt her mind calm and she began to feel one with the Weave. Opening her eyes slightly, she called upon the ability known as ‘the magesight’ which allowed a mage to actually view the Weave. Glancing around her tipi, she could see a rainbow of colored lines flowing around her. They ran in all directions. To the untrained eye, they looked tangled and chaotic but to someone trained in the ways of magic, there was a pattern. It was very subtle but it was there.
Furrowing her brow slightly, she studied the Weave intensely for several moments. Finding the particular strand she was searching for, she reached out carefully to grab it. When she touched the strand, a slight tingle ran up her arm and through her body. It was warm and made the hair on the back of her arms stand out. Pulling the strand slowly to the fire, she picked up the bowl of white powder and poured it into the fire which began to smoke and seemed to burn brighter. Grabbing a pinch of black powder from another bowl, she threw it onto the fire, it flashed brilliantly. Touching the strand to the billowing smoke, she spoke a single word. “Athas!”
Releasing the strand, the fire flashed once more then faded to a small blue flame. The dark gray smoke that billowed out of the small fire remained right above the fire, rolling and turning in on itself in constant motion. Taking several deep breaths she said, “By the grace of Aurora, show me Kamots Hawkeye.”
The gray smoke turned darker until it was pitch black. It continued to roll and twist but slowly the smoke began to take shapes. Soon Tatianna could see the distinctive form of Hawkeye as he was walking through the dark woods with his head lowered, studying the ground before him. Pausing every once in a while he would sniff the air and gaze at every shadow. Not finding anything, he would continue on his trek. Watching him for several minutes, she noticed how edgy he was becoming. He began to jump at every sound and be suspect of every shadow. Finally, he placed his back to a large rock and crouched down, weapons ready. He glanced to the right and left constantly as sweat beaded on his forehead.
Puzzled, Tatianna spoke to herself. “What could be wrong? Maybe someone is following him.”
Using her magic, she let the smoke images shift from him to the surrounding forest. She spent several minutes searching the forest around him but found nothing out of the ordinary. Willing the images to focus back on Hawkeye, she saw him relaxing in the same spot. He had pulled forth a small bundle of dried meat and was drinking from a deer skin flask. As soon as the images focused in on him, Hawkeye dropped his flask and grabbed his weapons.
“What in Aurora’s name is going on? There is nothing around him. What is he sensing? Unless…” A look of shock crossed her face. “Unless, he’s sensing me somehow. I bet he can sense the magic. Well as much as I want to watch you, your life and privacy is more important. Good luck my love.”
Reaching up Tatianna pulled Hawkeye’s strand from the smoke and the images faded away. She sat back and pondered the situation for several moments.
“If I cannot watch him through direct magical scrutiny, how can I know if he needs my help?”
Her eyes fell on the eagle head staff that Hawkeye had given her and a thought came to her. “If I cannot watch him directly, then why not watch him indirectly?”
Picking up her staff, she returned to the fire. Taking several more deep breaths, she fell back into a slight trance and scanned the surrounding Weave. After several minutes, she found the group of strands she was searching for. Pulling off a feather from her staff, she poked it into the group of strands. Most of the strands fell away but one strand seemed to get caught on the feather.
It was a dark strand, black as midnight. Using the feather, she pulled it to the fire. Throwing in another handful of black powder, she thrust the feather and strand into the flashing fire. Her voice was loud and strong as she commanded. “Come! Come forth messenger of Aurora! Come and help me in my time of need!”
The fire grew to such a great height that Tatianna was worried it would catch the tipi’s skin afire but still she didn’t move. She stared deep into the heart of the fire as the black smoke seemed to fold in on itself. There was a great flash of light and heat that knocked her back onto her furs.
Opening her eyes, the first thing she noticed was that it was pitch black inside her tipi. The fire had gone out; there wasn’t even a glow from the coals. The second thing she noticed was that she was no longer alone. She could hear the slight rustle of feathers and the telltale flap of a bird’s wings.
Calling upon her magic, she spoke a single word, “Anar!”
The fire came back to life with a soft warm glow. Her eyes fell upon the magnificent bird that sat across from her. It was coal black and looked like a large eagle. She had heard stories of such birds. They were known as shadowhawks. Birds made of smoke and shadow that live in the mystical realm known as the Shadowlands.
Shadowhawks were in all respect a normal living hawk with two exceptions. First, they were extremely intelligent. One legend tells that Eldath had one that learned to speak elvish, Tatianna didn’t know if that was true but it was a nice story. The second were their magical abilities granted to them through their summoning. Shadowhawks had the ability to pass through any two shadows, covering a great distance in a short time and to blend into the shadows; a shadowhawk that was sitting in a dark tree would be nearly undetectable.
Reaching out gingerly, Tatianna stroked its head.
“Hello, there. Thank you for answering my summons. I don’t know your name, so I will call you Dûrdae, which means ‘deepest shadow’ in my ancient tongue.”
It chirped at her attention.
“I have a small mission for you. I would like for you to find Hawkeye and keep watch over him. Would you do that for me?”
Giving several quick chirps Dûrdae seemed to wink at her before launching himself toward the tipi wall. Tatianna watched in fascination as he dove into the shadow at the base of the mirror and disappeared into the darkness. Smiling, Tatianna crawled back under her sleeping furs and fell fast asleep.
Chapter 20
Kneeling against the large rock, Hawkeye felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up again. Someone was watching him. Scanning the surrounding forest, he couldn’t see any movement nor did he smell anything out of the ordinary. Yet, all of his senses screamed at him that someone or something was watching him. Minutes passed and nothing stirred in the surrounding forest. The creatures of the forest also sensed something was wrong and went into hiding. The only sound was the wind blowing through the trees.
Tightening his grip on his tomahawk and knife, Hawkeye whispered to the darkness. “All right whoever you are, if you want to wait and see… then we will wait. I’m a patient man. We can sit here all night if need be.”
Minutes passed and still nothing happened. Then, just as quickly as it had come over him, the feeling left him. Hawkeye still didn’t see, smell or hear anything out of the ordinary. “What are you up to?”
As the forest creatures came out of hiding and the normal sounds of the winter night returned, Hawkeye relaxed the grip on his weapons.
The wind had died down to a gentle breeze that came from the west, which was a good thing. Wind from the west always carried the faint scent of salt from the Great Sea that lay many leagues past the home of the dwarves. This breeze was also slightly warmer than any that would come from the north, which foretold of a break in the snow soon. A break in the snow was a mixed blessing, it was good in the sense that the knee-deep snow wouldn’t g
et any worse over the next couple of days giving his people’s hunters plenty of time to bring in more stores for the coming winter. Bad in the sense it gave Blackfang and his men ample time to do the same thing or even send a raiding party north.
That thought lingered in his head for several minutes. The voice of his adopted father ran through his head, ‘To know your enemy, is to know yourself. The strength of your enemy defines your strength as a warrior.’
He thought about what he knew of his brother, Blackfang. The phrase ‘his brother’ still bothered him. How could he be a brother to such a bloodthirsty beast? But he didn’t doubt Anasazi. If his uncle said that Blackfang was his brother, then they were brothers. A slight twinge of regret swept through his body. It would have been great to grow up with a brother. Someone to share his adventures with instead of the lonely path he had taken. Although, it wouldn’t have been lonely if Blackfang had not killed his family; he could have explored the Highlands with his twin sons.
No! Blackfang being his brother won’t change what he had to do the next time they met. Shaking his head to clear it of any thoughts of revenge, Hawkeye didn’t want it to cloud his judgment. Turning back to the task at hand, what did he know about Blackfang? First, he was a powerful warrior that relied on fear, intimidation and strength to lead. He seemed to crave power and control. He also didn’t care about his men or allies, just himself. That could be a weakness he might be able to exploit given the right opportunity. Blackfang’s men and allies wouldn’t be very loyal to him if they were following him out of fear. Meaning their morale could be low or reduced given the right circumstances. On the other hand, if Blackfang has the backing of one of the Arachne, then his men might be following him out of religious fervor and Hawkeye knew that religious zealots were dangerous. Zealots have no care for their own well being and will fight to the death.
A faint sound from the south brought him out of his reverie. It sounded like a twig snapping. Someone was nearby. Sniffing the air, he couldn’t smell anything out of the ordinary but the wind was still coming from the west carrying any scents away from him. Could it be one of the last two warlords he had yet to face? That question raced through his mind but Hawkeye doubted it. From what he knew about the last two warlords neither would be that foolish. Besides, any highlander capable of becoming and retaining the title of warlord would not be so careless as to step on a twig, even in this snow. No, it had to be strangers, probably servants of Blackfang. Quickly putting away his flask of water and bundle of dried meat, Hawkeye moved off in search of new prey.
Tales of the Wolf: Book 01 - The Coming of the Wolf Page 24
