Stephen Zimmer - Crown of Vengeance

The beasts’ presence, though expected, still rattled Aethelstan’s nerves. The horses nervously whinnied and stamped about, clearly aware of the dangerous nature of the four-legged creatures silently surrounding them.

“Do not worry, they will not strike,” Aethelstan softly stated.

His voice was loud enough for those around him to hear, as he sought to dispel the fears in his steed and the accompanying warriors. He gently stroked Wind Runner’s mane, uttering soothing words to calm the horse’s great agitation.

His attention was drawn towards the companion at his right side, an ardently loyal household warrior named Cerdic. The sight of the huge, predatory beasts had visibly unnerved the stout young man, who normally had a youthful bravado that bordered on recklessness.

Cerdic was a fierce-hearted warrior who had never shown fear of even the best of fighters in Wessachia, not backing down even when overmatched. Now, the pallor of his skin was ashen and there was a slight tremble to the man’s left hand, as he tightly gripped the reins of his steed.

His other hand rested on the hilt of his sword, where it had quietly drifted in the interim. His knuckles were already whitening where they were visible underneath the tri-lobed pommel. The man’s eyes were fixated upon the beasts around them. Even as Aethelstan watched, the muscles of Cerdic’s hand flexed, tightening further around the hilt of the sword.

“The Woodsman has trained them quite well, I give you my word on that, Cerdic… do nothing to provoke the creatures, and you have nothing to fear,” Aethelstan told him.

While each passing, tense moment seemed to last an eternity, in truth the Saxans did not have to wait for long before a human figure finally emerged from the depths of the tree-cast shadows. The sight of the tall, broad-shouldered figure was an instant comfort to Aethelstan’s fraying nerves.

“Aethelstan, it is indeed fortunate that I have prepared my friends as well as I have,” the Woodsman remarked with a hint of humor to his voice, speaking in a casual manner. Though uttered in a decidedly more lighthearted and confident manner, the sentiments confirmed the Saxan thane’s assurances to his household warriors.

Gunther strode forward out of the darkness, his features becoming clearer in a swathe of moonlight pouring through a wider opening in the branches overhead.

The Jaghun nearest to the woodsman padded up from behind, and stood alongside of him, its eyes remaining honed upon the mounted warriors. Its tongue lolled about as it panted lightly, the array of shiny, sharp teeth within its broad jaws reflecting the moonlight.

“It is also good that you remember my instructions well, and that you have retained some skill in them,” Gunther stated approvingly. “You mimic the Emperor’s Songbird of Theonia more than adequately. Someday you should see and hear that magnificent little bird for yourself, and you will know that I speak truly. You are to be congratulated.”

Gunther looked about at the gathering of Jaghuns still surrounding the horsemen, and called out emphatically, “Friends!”

Immediately, the inhuman companions of Gunther relaxed their postures, two even going so far as to settle down upon the ground. Despite the loosened appearances, Aethelstan did not overlook the fact that they continued to keep a casual eye upon the Saxans, always remaining on some level of wariness on behalf their master and friend.

Gunther walked forward to stand before Aethelstan and his steed. The great stallion shifted about a little before settling down itself, not quite as assured as its own master with respect to the woodsman’s control over his beasts.

“What brings you here, at this later hour of the night?” His eyes darted among Aethelstan’s companions, before returning again to the Saxan thane. Even in the dimness, Aethelstan knew that the woodsman could not fail to see the signs of stress and fatigue chiseled into their faces. Gunther’s next words reflected that. “You look as if you have undertaken a hard ordeal. I would guess that you did not come here to bring me good tidings.”

Aethelstan nodded gravely, his face shrouded with a look of dire concern. “I regret that again I do not have good words to bring to you, but I desired to keep my promise to you. Even now, my warriors prepare for what is coming, but I have come to warn you. It may be the only warning that you will have. I soon may not be able to reach you, even if it was the only thing that I wished to do.

“An army of the Unifier’s is approaching through these woods, in great strength. Its passage will almost certainly bring them directly towards your own lands… I see no other path that they might take… and I fear their intentions do not bode well for any that live within our lands.”

Gunther echoed Aethelstan’s look of concern, his expression darkening for several strained moments before a quite unexpected grin broke though. The response took Aethelstan by surprise, and the thane did not know what to make of it at first. Yet knowing the woodsman’s personality and disposition, Aethelstan came to recognize the sarcastic irony that was laced throughout Gunther’s expression.

“The Unifier’s army coming right through here, you say? Seems that I cannot keep to myself, no matter how hard I may try, or how far I run,” Gunther remarked, shaking his head ruefully.

“I have traveled through the world to find my own peace… and now they send an entire army to disturb it… Nonetheless, they can get me only if they find me,” he then said with a wink upon his last words. His mouth then straightened, and his next words were spoken in full sincerity, “You have my true gratitude, Thane Aethelstan. I would not have thought ill of you, if you had chosen to remain with your men.

“It is not wise for you to risk yourself to warn me… though you chose to do so. The Saxans need your presence far more than one recluse in the woods. I only hope that I am someday able to justify such a risk, in a time and place that neither you nor I yet know about. You kept your word. It is the measure of a man, and I thank you for it. Such as this is what keeps me from surrender in this world.”

Aethelstan nodded, though taken somewhat aback at the outpouring of open sentiments from the usually fiery, and adamantly solitary, woodsman. “Indeed, you are welcome, Gunther. I would have it no other way. I wish with all my heart that I was coming here to simply share conversation, and perhaps a hunt with you. I hope that a day may come when we can do so without worry… if you would suffer a guest for more than a few hours.” He could not stifle a chuckle as he thought of the eremitic nature of the woodsman, and the momentous request that an extended visit would be.

“I should also like to try some of the mead from this area, from that village woman that you spoke of. I have no doubt that is one item that you trade for,” Aethelstan added, with another amiable chuckle. “For now, I must proceed onward, to begin to prepare the defenses against this imminent threat. I assure you that we will meet the enemy with force, though to what end I do not yet know.”

Gunther reached upward and clasped the other’s forearm firmly. “I would certainly interrupt my little hermitage for a few hours, nay for a few days, to share your company. May the All-Father keep you strong, Aethelstan.”

“What will be, will be, Woodsman. Though we can always choose to hold the path of honor… That, at least, is given to our own power. May the All-Father in his mercy and grace give you strength, and protect you in the days to come,” Aethelstan replied, sharing the moment of mutual, sincere respect with the tall woodsman.

Though he knew little of the past of the mysterious denizen of the deep woods, Aethelstan knew in his heart that the woodsman was more than worth the risks that he had courted in having kept his word. Aethelstan’s warning might well help Gunther to survive for some greater purpose still yet to come. Father Wilfrid had always stated to Aethelstan that the All-Father’s ways were a mystery, and that the most unlikely of individuals were often called forth in dire times. Whether or not such a thing applied to Gunther, Aethelstan had no regrets that he had come.