Stephen Zimmer - Crown of Vengeance

The other shook his head, a wary look in his eye. “I do not know, Aethelstan. It could be the quieting of the wilderness lands… as they feel the manifesting of the Unifier’s power… or it may be the presence of the army that you suspect.”

“I think that it is the army of our enemies, Cenferth. The patrols have not crossed overhead so many times without reason,” Aethelstan stated.

The layout of the landscape, and the signs of any large Saxan force, would have been well-scouted by then. The sky patrols, Aethelstan feared, were keeping an eye over their own forces more than foraging about for Saxan patrols.

“Though I wish that it were otherwise, I believe that you are correct,” Cenferth replied.

“I only wish we were able to field our own scouts in the sky,” Aethelstan stated regretfully.

“We will have to be the scouts, even here on the ground,” Cenferth replied gravely. “There are no others, as you have said.”

“And find what we may. If we can find definite signs of the enemy army,” Aethelstan said.

The deep unease continued for about another hour, during the span of which not one word was uttered amongst the Saxans. As if on a collective conscience, they maneuvered their steeds ever deeper into the vulnerable region, riding towards the edge of the forest itself.

If the Unifier’s army were truly near, there would be the signs of scouts or encampments soon enough.

It was not much longer beyond that point when Aethelstan’s instincts screamed out to him, and implored him urgently to stop. Snapping up his right hand, the abrupt gesture was repeated quickly among the group as Aethelstan brought his force to a halt among the shadows of the looming trees.

He believed his inner sense. Dismounting carefully, he guided his steed over to a maple tree and tethered it. The others likewise dismounted with care, each stroking their steeds’ muzzles and speaking soothingly to the edgy horses. They silently awaited Aethelstan’s next instructions.

The stallions shuffled about nervously, ears twitching and nostrils flaring. Aethelstan noticed the breeze coming upon them from the west. His riders were downwind of whatever was agitating the steeds.

The horses continued to whinny and snort, and Aethelstan knew that they could not risk going any farther. Horses were not foolish, and their horses were clearly apprehensive about something troubling that they sensed in the vicinity. A large party could not risk proceeding far beyond their position either. From that point onward, stealth and a limiting of risks was of the greatest priority.

As even the best of the others in the column could only equal Aethelstan and Cenferth in their woodland skills, he deemed it both sensible and honorable that he and his most dedicated warrior should be the ones to explore for nearby signs of the enemy.

Aethelstan stepped without a sound to where the other Saxans were gathered, all of them looking to him expectantly.

“We cannot go farther. Cenferth and I will go forth from here, and be as light of presence and silent as we can,” Aethelstan informed them in a low voice. “Remain here with the steeds, and keep them as quiet as you can. If you are attacked, do not be foolish and forget why we have come here. Seek to get to our forces to warn them. They will need to know what we face. The fate of our army on the Plains of Athelney, and our home villages and burhs, depend on it.”

Aethelstan let his stare weigh heavy on the others, to reinforce the solemnity of his words. He knew that he was asking a very difficult thing of the warriors, who would not hesitate to fight to the last around their beloved leader. Even so, notions of a warrior’s personal honor had to be subordinate to the greater task for which they had all come.

Aethelstan lifted his leather shield strap over his head, grabbing the long, triangular shield and leaning it up against the same tree that his horse was tethered to. Removing his mail shirt to a cascade of light, metallic clinks, he rolled it up slowly, and placed it near the back of his horse’s saddle. He also removed his iron helm, affixing it temporarily by the chinstrap off of the pommel.

The countless hours, days, and years that he had spent traveling and hunting amid the woodlands would now govern the best protection that he could have.

With the others standing guard around the horses, Aethelstan and Cenferth stepped lightly off into the forest. Having hunted often together in the forests of Wessachia, Ealdorman Morcar’s lands, they were very adept at moving without giving off sound. They knew each other’s tendencies well, and could easily convey plans or wishes with a simple glance or gesture.

With nimble footing and close attention to their surroundings, they made excellent progress, until the sporadic sounds of some foliage rustling and the crunching of dry leaves and twigs on the ground reached their ears.

Upon the very first hint of the intrusive sounds that broke the stillness of the forest, Aethelstan was already moving to the side of a particularly large elm tree, and lowering himself down into a crouch. Looking to the side, he saw that Cenferth had done likewise, and they held themselves as still as the high trees around them. Aethelstan gestured just ahead of their position, a little to the left, as Cenferth nodded his agreement with the thane’s assessment.

The noises indicated that something was just about to break into view, just a short distance away from them. The two men watched carefully, their eyes fixed upon the trees and ground before them. Aethelstan drew upon his hunting skills, attenuating himself to a fixed, forward stare that took in the full range of his peripheral vision.

The first signs of movement riveted his focus fully upon the disturbance.

A few great black shapes padded across the ground, less than a hundred feet ahead of where he and Cenferth were hiding. The feline creatures moved effortlessly, bounding lithely over any fallen trees with nary a sound. With each burst of motion, they landed in perfect balance upon their wide paws.

The sounds of rustling leaves and scraping brush came from the movements of their handlers, who walked a short distance behind the massive cat-like beasts. They held onto long tethers, gripping them tightly in the elongated, slender fingers of their left hands. In their right hands, they grasped the hilts of long, tapering daggers, with no crossguards.

Aethelstan and Cenferth looked in wonder at the non-human handlers and the powerful creatures that they tended.

The heads of the bestial handlers were like that of some huge rat, with beady, dark eyes and long, tapering snouts. They had long tails, with arms and legs that were skinny in proportion to their bodies. Wherever their dark, waist-length tunics did not cover them, thick, coarse black fur could be seen.

The large cat-like beasts at the end of the tethers moved without any hindrance from their great body mass. With broad chests, stout legs, and massive heads carried high, the latter prominently displaying wicked-looking canines protruding several inches downward, the creatures exhibited a slight slope from their head to their hindquarters. Their stout bodies seemed to be made of solid muscle, as evidenced by the rippling, pulsing bulges just underneath their lustrous coats of dark fur.

There was a pattern to their movements. After a number of steps, the handlers would come to a sudden halt. Both the rat-men and the beasts would sniff at the air, and look all around them. Aethelstan uttered a silent prayer of thanks that they were downwind of the creatures, for he had little doubt that they would have easily picked up the scent of the two humans had it been otherwise.

Aethelstan and Cenferth dared not let even the sound of a breath escape them, as the terrifying creatures passed disconcertingly close by. Each moment seemed to take an eternity as they were condemned to endure a nerve-fraying state of mind.