The Avanorans in the room backed up as the beasts padded forward with their handlers. Even the leader tensed for a moment, as the dark-furred cats stepped silently past him, watching their muscles rippling in their fluid, graceful motions.
At their masters’ urgings, the pair moved into the mouth of the opening, one following the other into the narrow confines. The two huge cats tensed within a couple of steps, their ears flattening back against their heads, as they paused and stared into the blackness.
The Avanoran leader brusquely compelled the Atagar to move the beasts deeper into the passage, impatient to get underway before his nerves began to fray. Looking greatly irritated, the Atagar handlers complied, and cajoled the reluctant beasts forward.
Low growls rumbled from the back of the agitated beasts’ throats as they started forward again. They drew up to the torchbearers in the passage and took the lead. The scout leader and several other Avanoran warriors then entered the tunnel, and followed closely behind.
A few Avanorans remained back in the dwelling, as the larger proportion of the patrol proceeded forward into the depths of the cave passage. The few torches that the party had lit did little to ease the oppressive feeling that the scout leader felt, an ominous dread that rose with each step. The blackness appeared to press in, confining the scant glow cast by the torches, and threatening to swallow the firebrands, and perhaps even their bearers, at any time.
The walls of the passage grew broader, and the scout leader knew that the ceiling had risen higher when the Licanthers started to growl more fervently, in extreme agitation. The creatures were now side by side, no longer forced to walk in single file. Their handlers were unable to coax the giant cats forward, both beasts rigidly defiant as they stood their ground.
“What is it?” the scout leader whispered sharply to the Atagar handlers, as he eased his way up to their position.
His words trailed off right at the moment when the cave walls themselves appeared to come alive. A storm of motion exploded upon the scouting party, Avanoran, Atagar, and Licanther alike.
Huge, shadowy forms erupted from the darkness, whirling about from where they had been pressed closely against the cave walls. Their rock-gray hides, rough and of gritty textures, had blended very capably with the stone as they had maneuvered themselves to fill in crevices and depressions along the course of the passageway.
Hidden in the deeper shadows, and only faintly touched by the light of the torches, they had been utterly silent, and imperceptible to the humans and Atagar. Only the Licanthers had sensed that anything was amiss, and by the time that the cats were certain of the danger, it was too late.
One of the Licanthers emitted a blood-curdling outcry, high-pitched sounds interwoven with roaring and hissing as it whirled about lithely to face the emerging threats. In a flash, four sets of claws were unsheathed, and ready to maul its imminent attackers. Two great spears were driven into the Licanther’s body with relentless force before it could even loose one swipe of its deadly claws.
The second Licanther was felled by a singular thrust of staggering force. The thunderous, impaling blow knocked the creature off of its paws and slammed it down into the ground. The great cat was already lifeless when it thudded heavily onto the stone surfacing of the passage.
The frenzied stabs of the long, thick-hafted spears, at whose ends were wickedly sharp, obsidian heads, that to a human would be considered daggers in their own right, were devastating to the unarmored scouts. Even if they had worn coats of mail, it would have been of little protection against the horrific strength wielded by the hulking attackers.
Torches fell and clattered to the ground, casting a flurry of shadows amid the anguished, panicked cries of the men. The Avanorans were swiftly cut down by the massive forms, which had so suddenly arisen from the darkness. The hapless Avanorans realized with horror that their attackers had them completely surrounded. At a tremendous loss in the swirling darkness, the Avanorans’ senses and skills were overwhelmed in mere seconds.
A couple of them started to run back the way they had come, dropping their weapons in terror. They only got a few strides before their path was intercepted, and they were dispatched brutally, without mercy.
The handful of Avanoran warriors that had remained behind within the woodland dwelling looked into the passageway in crippling fear, as they heard the frightened outcries and sounds of slaughter pouring out of the baleful darkness. One of them, who happened to be one of the Avanorans whose axe had hewn through the door to the passage, murmured under his breath his fervent wish that the thick timber door could be closed.
They could not see the attackers, nor could they recognize the forms of their own men. They remained frozen in place, indecision and dread paralyzing them to inaction.
The sounds of the battle ended very quickly, but it brought no cessation of their worry as they saw flickers of movements within the caliginous depths. The movements were accompanied by a flurry of scuffling, scratching noises, which seemed be rising in volume.
“Macy?” called one of the Avanorans, hoping against hope that their leader was still alive as he listened to the foreboding sounds of movement within the passage. “Macy, answer me!”
The scuffling sounds continued to build, but there was no answer forthcoming.
“Anyone? Anyone in there?” he called out frantically again, at a loss for words as he stared wide-eyed into the passage.
He instinctively took a step back from the opening, his hands faintly quivering where they gripped the shaft of his spear.
“Answer us, or we will loose arrows!” another Avanoran cried out.
Again, no answer was forthcoming as the sounds of approach drew closer. It was as if the darkness was coalescing, and rushing towards the opening. All of the Avanorans stepped back another couple of paces, their movements betraying that they had little doubt that something dreadful was almost upon them.
“Loose the arrows! Loose them!” yelled the Avanoran that had taken part in the door’s shattering.
The Avanoran fighter, whether his eyes perceived truly or not, espied hints of shapes looming closer in the dark. The forms were far too immense to be those of any humans. Every primal part of his being screamed out inside that doom was imminent.
A couple of the archers among them then loosed their arrows, sending the shafts flying into the passageway. A guttural, angry cry that was anything but human answered from the darkness. An arrow had found its mark, and confirmed the presence of a grave threat.
The perilous tide continued to swell in the darkness, as it surged towards the Avanorans, the scuffles now taking the form of a multitude of heavy, rapid steps.
“Get out of here! Flee now!” one of the archers cried out frantically, to the few Avanorans in the room.
The remaining soldiers needed no encouragement as they turned and ran towards the entrance to the dwelling. In the confusion, a third Licanther with its Atagar handler, having entered the dwelling at the onset of the commotion, were the first to meet the deadly torrent rushing out from the passage.
The Licanther roared in searing pain as it took a hurled spear from the first Unguhur to emerge from the passageway. Its body crumpled to the ground with the massive shaft protruding from its neck. Its life ebbed in sickening gurgles, as its scrabbling, haphazard movements slowed.
The lone Atagar was driven through by another of the large spears, wielded swiftly by the second attacker to burst into the front room. The huge Unguhur was upon the Atagar before it could even comprehend the nature of its slayer. The Atagar’s high-pitched shriek pierced through the front doorway, and carried into the grounds outside of the dwelling.
To a man, the Avanorans that had just exited the woodland abode cried out in abject fear, as they quickly beheld what was patiently awaiting them outside the building. Towering gray shapes hemmed them in at the entrance of the timber dwelling, having formed a tight semicircle that trapped the forlorn humans.
Greatly outnumbered, and
facing fearsome creatures, of a type that they had never seen before, the last few Avanorans yelled out in a crazed sense of desperation and defiance. Weapons held firmly, they charged the enormous Unguhur in a maddened fury that channeled their fear.
Their wild slashes with spear, hand-axe, or dagger largely went awry, though one of the fighters did manage to drive his spear into the thick leg of an Unguhur warrior. The creature, howling in pain and rage, swung furiously through the air with its crude, mace-like weapon, black stone lashed tightly to a thick haft. The crushing blow crumpled the unfortunate man, his broken body thudding to the ground.
One against one, the Avanorans were absolutely no match for the Unguhur. With a ratio of several Unguhur for every man, the struggle was entirely hopeless for the humans. Not one Avanoran out of the large scout patrol survived the brief fight.
When the combat had ended, the Unguhur warriors dispersed. A few of the Unguhur proceeded back down the passageway from the woodsman’s dwelling. They headed into the underground fungus-forest, and felled several stalks, which they then carried back into the passage. They worked to fashion a considerable barricade within the opening from the surface dwelling, stuffing the narrow part of the passage thoroughly.
Long before the obstacle was set into place, others had already gathered and dragged the bodies of the slain Avanorans into the passage and down into the lower cavern. They removed any sign of the dour fates of the Avanoran scouts and their non-human allies. In a short while, Gunther’s homestead looked lonely and abandoned once again.
A number of warrior Unguhur were then set in position to keep watch within the rough-hewn, wider section of the passageway, beyond the makeshift blockade.
Others from the band of warriors wended their way through the woods on the surface, continuing back to the secondary location where they had emerged out into the open air. The small cave opening that awaited them had allowed them to circle around and set the choking trap, which had caught the remnants of the Avanoran patrol as they fled the interior of the dwelling.
Filing into the cave one by one, the warriors proceeded down another long passage that their kind’s labor had widened ages ago, to allow for their great forms. The last one through pulled some brush into place that obscured the cave opening. When finished, the Unguhur warrior entered the passage, and adjusted a large stone behind it to conceal the passage entrance in the rear of the cave.
What the woodsman Gunther had known for a long while, and had gladly embraced, the Avanoran intruders had just discovered to their extreme detriment; the existence of a large population of the Unguhur race, living primarily in isolation, far underneath the outer, western forests of Saxany.
SECTION II
*
JANUS
*
The canoes bearing Ayenwatha, the tribal warriors, and the seven exiles traveled smoothly, gliding along the river’s mild currents. Several hours had already passed, and the day had finally crossed the midpoint, though it would still be quite some time before the sunlight ebbed.
Muscles were drained to weakness, backs had become very sore, and an assortment of cramps and aches had to be ignored by the occupants of the canoes in their urgency to get down the river. Tribal warriors served as steersmen and navigators in the bows and sterns of the canoes, but the journey was a comprehensive effort. The exiles did their part from the beginning, putting their best efforts into repeatedly pulling their paddles through the water.
Ayenwatha called for one brief, merciful stop, at a broad stretch of embankment. During the respite, the Onan warriors passed out some cornmeal, sweetened by a little maple syrup, amongst the members of the tired party. After taking just a few moments to eat and catch their breaths, they were called to return the canoes to the water. The meager sustenance could not fully assuage Janus’ growing hunger, or replenish his sorely depleted energy, but at the time each mouthful seemed like a precious luxury.
Constructed of panels of elm or birch bark that had been stitched together around a cedar frame, generously gummed with spruce resin, the canoes held up quite well over the pressing journey. To Janus’ relief, they did not take on much water, though when landing he noticed that the warriors were cautious not to run the vessels aground, likely due to the nature of the gummed seams.
The unbroken continuum of thick forest growths hugging the edge of the embankments eventually degenerated in Janus’ eyes. They changed from visions of lush, natural beauty, to repetitive monotony, especially by the time that afternoon had begun to mature.
At least, he was not left baking in the sun. The canoes glided into segments of the river that were well-shaded and cool, before emerging into stretches of direct, unimpeded sunlight that showered down warmly upon their bodies. The robust pace of their travel also sustained a cool flow of air over the canoes’ occupants.
Janus was grateful for each and every small comfort that graced them, as his strength ebbed further with every passing hour. A little anxiety arose within him, as he began to labor with each strenuous pull of the cedar paddle. He was not so sure that he could endure for very much longer.
He felt a distinct sense of relief when Ayenwatha finally guided the canoes towards a large encampment situated near the edge of the shore. At first, Janus wondered which tribe of the Five Realms occupied the site, but as soon as he set his eyes on it, he could see at once that the encampment and its inhabitants exhibited many differences from Ayenwatha’s people and their hill-surmounting villages.
There were a fair number of canoes in evidence within the encampment, though they were of a noticeably different style than those belonging to the Onan. A few rested upon their bellies close to the water. Others were turned upside down, propped up off the ground at one end on a bracing of lashed poles.
They were fashioned of birch bark sheaths fitted over light timber frames, a few being roughly of the same size as those of the Onan, and several that were substantially larger. Rounded at each of their extremities, the more prominent vessels all had a distinctive hump in their side profiles, located at their approximate midsections.
Several conical structures were set farther back from the river’s edge. The constructs were covered in overlapping bark sheeting, laid over frames of five inward-leaning poles that had been lashed together with cording, fashioned out of strong, durable roots, towards the top. The frame formed by the lengthy poles created a broad, circular base for each of the edifices. Additional narrow wooden poles had been laid upon the outside of the structures, to help reinforce, and keep in place, the bark panels.
A flap of animal hide covered the entryways to the dwellings, which varied in size from structures that could hold just a few people, to others that could probably hold a dozen or more. There were a couple of more elongated structures, of a generally elliptical shape, that could be seen even farther back amongst the trees.
The surfacing of the bark panels on the dwellings were painted generously, with reds, yellows, blacks, and whites being among the predominant colors employed in the ornamentation. Many of the images were of natural forms, those of birds and other various animals of the forest. Janus picked out the outline of a broad-antlered moose depicted upon one of the nearer dwellings, as well as the form of a great bear on another.
Among the non-organic images that Janus identified were a considerable number of shapes that were variations based upon a common theme. These involved the use of lines that had matching, backward curving ends, which formed a kind of bracket. The brackets often served to frame other geometric designs, some being quite intricate.
The double-curving lines were oriented in a number of ways, sometimes even set back to back, with variances in the depths and angles of their curves. Whether part of a complex or simple design, the distinctive shapes appeared to be common on the surfaces of the conical structures.
A large number of people were moving among the dwellings, engaged in a wide range of activities. A few men had evidently just returned from a fishing excursion, bearin
g distinctive three-pronged wooden spears, fashioned with sharpened bone points. The ends of the spears had prominent, spiky extensions in the center, the latter flanked by two smaller tines, whose endpoints were angled backwards in such a way that anything skewered upon the middle prong would be gripped and held in place by the other two. The implements must have been quite effective, as two of the men in the group were struggling to carry forward what looked to be a few large salmon, which had been strung together through their gills and mouths.
Several of the inhabitants of the riverside village paused in their endeavors to watch the approach of the incoming Onan canoes. Faces both pensive and curious turned in the direction of the river, as tools and other implements were set down.
As Janus studied the village and its occupants, Ayenwatha explained to Erika, Kent, and himself that the people that they were about to meet were the “Masters of the Great Waters.” They were the people of a tribe called the Lnuk. While not part of the Five Realms, the Lnuk enjoyed very good relations with Ayenwatha’s people.
Their Great Saqmaw was an individual named Membertou, a very wise man for whom Deganawida and many Great Sachems of the Five Realms held a high degree of respect and trust. Membertou was now a very elderly man, but Ayenwatha indicated that many, both of Membertou’s and Ayenwatha’s people alike, had great confidence in his son, Tumel. Ayenwatha commented that there was little question that Tumel would be chosen to succeed Membertou by the Lnuk tribal council, after the venerable saqmaw had taken the Spirit Road of their people.
Ayenwatha then remarked to Janus and Erika that the saqmaws of the Lnuk were chosen in a manner much different than the way in which the Five Realms chose their sachems, but there was no trace of judgement in his voice. It was very evident that Ayenwatha harbored deep respect for Tumel, both as a courageous warrior, and as a future Great Saqmaw of the Lnuk tribe.
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