Reynard was to his left watching Cytheria and Kwyn prepare dinner in between pulls from the wine jug. The red wine had left flaky stains on Reynard's lips that the scrubbed off with his sleeve every so often. Perun thought about his brother trying to remember the feelings that he had felt for Reynard, for any of them. A thousand years condensed in to this right now. Things they still refused to talk about although tonight had brought with it a surprising amount of admissions.
Perun sighed and felt his age, it wasn't in his bones but he could feel it in his soul. He had more to do, he knew that, it was what had brought them together. They had come because they knew that it was needed. Promises had been made and promises had been broken, but this was more then that. An age ago they had come together, tracing the same path that they now followed. An age ago a god had been born and they had imprisoned it. Now it seemed as though a host of gods were awakening from their slumber. Events were occurring and the very veil of life seemed to be lifting. Players were taking the field of battle and they were aligning their armies, resurrecting might from the past. Powers had been loosed and Perun did not know what to expect. He had remained and his eyes were had been his scrying mat. With it he had seen much over the last thousand years. He had watched the ebb and flow of power. But he had missed the threads and now as the forces awoke he desperately needed the other three.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
089
"Why say this to me now?" Reynard asked.
"Just so that you'd hear." Kwyn began reaching into the bag of vegetables for suitable items for the stew.
"Honesty is less of an attribute then you think sister." Reynard turned his attention to the jug if wine beside him.
The clearing fell to silence save for the crackling of the fire and the sound of Kwyn's knife chopping vegetables. Sparks rose from the fire into the night, trails of light the flew through Perun's vision and then winked out. Perun was lost in thought the years he spent as the last remaining watcher were painful. But so much time had passed he only knew that they were painful because he continued to tell himself that, he no longer knew what the feeling was like. A thousand years is a long time to carry this burden. He knew that when one thought of things using thousands of years as the measuring stick their edges tended to blur and their shapes would become fuzzy. What was once sharp and distinct would become a blurry shadow only a suggestion of what once was.
"Just so that you'd hear." Kwyn began reaching into the bag of vegetables for suitable items for the stew.
"Honesty is less of an attribute then you think sister." Reynard turned his attention to the jug if wine beside him.
The clearing fell to silence save for the crackling of the fire and the sound of Kwyn's knife chopping vegetables. Sparks rose from the fire into the night, trails of light the flew through Perun's vision and then winked out. Perun was lost in thought the years he spent as the last remaining watcher were painful. But so much time had passed he only knew that they were painful because he continued to tell himself that, he no longer knew what the feeling was like. A thousand years is a long time to carry this burden. He knew that when one thought of things using thousands of years as the measuring stick their edges tended to blur and their shapes would become fuzzy. What was once sharp and distinct would become a blurry shadow only a suggestion of what once was.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
088
"Such honesty sound strange when it comes from your lips." Kwyn returned to the fire with a pot full of water and a sack of vegetables over her shoulder. She swayed slightly as she walked under the weight of the water. As she neared the cleared earth that surrounded the fire she stumbled slightly and water splashed to the brown earth. "After all these years my memory of the past is still bright." She put the pot down to the earth. "If what I am hearing is indeed honestly it may be the first time I've heard it from you."
Monday, March 28, 2011
087
"What's done is done. The past is gone." Reynard looked at the two remaining figures around the file. "Why do we dwell in what has happened? Have any secrets really been revealed tonight? What has been voiced is only that which we already knew but were two scared to talk about."
"I didn't know you went to the meeting place after our agreement." Cytheria said.
"Are you surprised? For how long have you known me sister?" Reynard took a sip of wine. "How many years before the bargain and then for how many more after? There was nothing malicious in going. No one was harmed and no further oaths were broken."
"We agreed that it wasn't necessary, that the promise no longer needed to be kept."
"Sister, please. That's not why I did it." Reynard looked at Perun. "We agreed amongst ourselves that the promise no longer needed to be kept, that the oaths that bound us had been nullified by circumstances."
"How convenient." Perun drawled.
"Don't be sarcastic Perun, it does not suit you. Even you cannot deny that things at that moment were so vastly different then they were when we made out promise. We had been forgotten, who are you protecting when the world no longer believes in your existence?" Reynard stood and paced around the fire. "We had ceased to even be legends brother. The very hint of our existence was mangled into strange tales of others baring only passing resemblance to us, our deeds or the promise that we made. Our purpose had faded." Renard shared a look with Cytheria. "This is what we deemed to be true, and why we broke the promise. In our eyes, and I still believe this, the promise no longer held, their end of the promise had been broken and forgotten."
Reynard paused for a moment and looked at his brother and his sister. "Cytheria, I did not go for the reasons that you and Kywn think. I went for myself, for sentiment. The promise was no longer needed, but I could not break my own bonds with the place."
"I didn't know you went to the meeting place after our agreement." Cytheria said.
"Are you surprised? For how long have you known me sister?" Reynard took a sip of wine. "How many years before the bargain and then for how many more after? There was nothing malicious in going. No one was harmed and no further oaths were broken."
"We agreed that it wasn't necessary, that the promise no longer needed to be kept."
"Sister, please. That's not why I did it." Reynard looked at Perun. "We agreed amongst ourselves that the promise no longer needed to be kept, that the oaths that bound us had been nullified by circumstances."
"How convenient." Perun drawled.
"Don't be sarcastic Perun, it does not suit you. Even you cannot deny that things at that moment were so vastly different then they were when we made out promise. We had been forgotten, who are you protecting when the world no longer believes in your existence?" Reynard stood and paced around the fire. "We had ceased to even be legends brother. The very hint of our existence was mangled into strange tales of others baring only passing resemblance to us, our deeds or the promise that we made. Our purpose had faded." Renard shared a look with Cytheria. "This is what we deemed to be true, and why we broke the promise. In our eyes, and I still believe this, the promise no longer held, their end of the promise had been broken and forgotten."
Reynard paused for a moment and looked at his brother and his sister. "Cytheria, I did not go for the reasons that you and Kywn think. I went for myself, for sentiment. The promise was no longer needed, but I could not break my own bonds with the place."
Sunday, March 27, 2011
086
"Was it?" Perun asked.
"What?" Reynard replied.
"Enough. Was it enough?"
"It was."
"You wanted both sides then?" Cytheria asked. "You made your pact with us, the reasons, the fact, and we believed them. And then you had to go and make sure that someone would still attend. Would keep watched at the specified time."
"This is melodrama, and it doesn't befit the four of us." Reynard answered.
Cytheria cursed and took a jug of wine from Reynard. She gripped the stopper between her teeth and then pulled it loose from the jug. She spit the stopper into the burning fire and then took long drink.
"You know those are reusable right? we could have..."
"What would you have done if Perun hadn't shown up." Kywn asked, interrupting Reynard.
"Look Kywn I don't know. I don't know why the two of you are so upset about this. I didn't do anything I went and watched our brother go to the meeting place. I wanted to see if he would still go, given everything that had happened."
"You would have gone in." Kywn said with satisfaction. She got up and began to prepare the stew.
"What?" Reynard replied.
"Enough. Was it enough?"
"It was."
"You wanted both sides then?" Cytheria asked. "You made your pact with us, the reasons, the fact, and we believed them. And then you had to go and make sure that someone would still attend. Would keep watched at the specified time."
"This is melodrama, and it doesn't befit the four of us." Reynard answered.
Cytheria cursed and took a jug of wine from Reynard. She gripped the stopper between her teeth and then pulled it loose from the jug. She spit the stopper into the burning fire and then took long drink.
"You know those are reusable right? we could have..."
"What would you have done if Perun hadn't shown up." Kywn asked, interrupting Reynard.
"Look Kywn I don't know. I don't know why the two of you are so upset about this. I didn't do anything I went and watched our brother go to the meeting place. I wanted to see if he would still go, given everything that had happened."
"You would have gone in." Kywn said with satisfaction. She got up and began to prepare the stew.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
085
"We were abandoned. What of the promises made to us? Should we have stayed and rotted for an eternity?"
"We should have all done what we promised. You should not have stopped coming."
"We left to see what had happened Perun." Cytheria said.
"The world had changed and the old ways were fading. Look at what was there when we last came." Kwyn said.
"It was worse when you stopped coming."
"Truly?" Reynard asked as he dropped to the earth. He looked at Perun and tossed him the almost empty wine jug. Reynard had regained control and his demeanor from a moment ago was gone. "I was there brother. The first meeting, when the three of us decided not to return. I was there."
"What!" Kwyn yelled jumping to her feet and upsetting her herb basket. With a curse she knelt and began to collect the spilled leaves that she could.
"We agreed Reynard. We made a deal together."
"Enough." Reynard said with forced exasperation in his voice. "What's with this family. It made no difference to you or Kwyn what I did."
"You wanted to know if I would still go. You thought I might have known and stayed away myself." Perun shook the wine just and upon hearing a slight splash of wine finished off the jug.
"It seems we may need two jugs of wine these evening. To be safe though I'll bring two this time." Reynard go to his feet. "Yes, I was there watching to see if you would arrive. I didn't enter, you would have known, but I wait to see you approach." Reynard began to walk towards the wagon.
"You didn't stay?"
"No, I left after I watched you enter the grounds. I had to know and once I saw you enter it was enough."
"We should have all done what we promised. You should not have stopped coming."
"We left to see what had happened Perun." Cytheria said.
"The world had changed and the old ways were fading. Look at what was there when we last came." Kwyn said.
"It was worse when you stopped coming."
"Truly?" Reynard asked as he dropped to the earth. He looked at Perun and tossed him the almost empty wine jug. Reynard had regained control and his demeanor from a moment ago was gone. "I was there brother. The first meeting, when the three of us decided not to return. I was there."
"What!" Kwyn yelled jumping to her feet and upsetting her herb basket. With a curse she knelt and began to collect the spilled leaves that she could.
"We agreed Reynard. We made a deal together."
"Enough." Reynard said with forced exasperation in his voice. "What's with this family. It made no difference to you or Kwyn what I did."
"You wanted to know if I would still go. You thought I might have known and stayed away myself." Perun shook the wine just and upon hearing a slight splash of wine finished off the jug.
"It seems we may need two jugs of wine these evening. To be safe though I'll bring two this time." Reynard go to his feet. "Yes, I was there watching to see if you would arrive. I didn't enter, you would have known, but I wait to see you approach." Reynard began to walk towards the wagon.
"You didn't stay?"
"No, I left after I watched you enter the grounds. I had to know and once I saw you enter it was enough."
Friday, March 25, 2011
084
"Were promises meant to last and eternity?" Reynard asked slipping the cork from the wine jug. No one spoke as he took a swig directly from the bottle and handed it to Perun. Perun paused for a moment looking at the bottle and then drank deeply. He set the jug down beside him on the earth and wiped the corners of his mouth. "Things change as time passes. Aye we made promises," Reynard picked up the jug of wine from the earth and offered it to Cytheria whose eyes never left Perun's, "but to be held to them in the faces of such changes?"
"That is what a promise is." Perun said.
The bottle was passed to Kwyn who continued to clean herbs even as she listened to the conversation.
"Would we ever had made the promise if we had known the cost? Known what the future held?"
"You don't deny that a promise was made and then broken?" Perun asked.
Reynard retrieved the wine just and took two long drinks. He looked at Perun for a moment and then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "We were abandoned. How many failed to come year after year when we remained."
"Do you deny it?" Perun accepted the jug.
"We were forgotten."
"I say again: Do you deny it?"
"What is the point to your question? How can I deny it? I do not deny this, I only seek to explain it brother."
"It has been long since you've used that term 'brother'."
"That is what a promise is." Perun said.
The bottle was passed to Kwyn who continued to clean herbs even as she listened to the conversation.
"Would we ever had made the promise if we had known the cost? Known what the future held?"
"You don't deny that a promise was made and then broken?" Perun asked.
Reynard retrieved the wine just and took two long drinks. He looked at Perun for a moment and then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "We were abandoned. How many failed to come year after year when we remained."
"Do you deny it?" Perun accepted the jug.
"We were forgotten."
"I say again: Do you deny it?"
"What is the point to your question? How can I deny it? I do not deny this, I only seek to explain it brother."
"It has been long since you've used that term 'brother'."
Thursday, March 24, 2011
083
"Did everything go well while we were away?" Cytheria asked.
"Oh come now. You're just as bad as him." Perun replied. "What am I supposed to respond to? The sheer obviousness of your question? The actual question? Or the implied assumption amongst the three of us here regarding how obvious your question is?"
Cytheria scowled at Perun but there wasn't any true emotion behind it.
"After all this time we still dance these dances." Kwyn said flatly, moving her gaze from Perun, to Cytheria, and back again. "Why is it that we still cannot move on, nor even talk about the past."
"We dance because that's why we are here. We all know things that we will not speak for fear that we will be implicated in some way." Perun said with a sigh. "I never left."
"I assumed." Kwyn added sadly. "For all of this time? For all of those years?"
"Each year I remained. Each year I returned." Perun said animation growing in his voice. "For hundreds of years I presided over nothing. Crumbling stones and leaves caught in the corners of stairs. A chipmunk, dumb animals, nothing the came with purpose. I was there." His eyes were wide with the energy that he felt.
Reynard was back from the wagon standing in the shadows with a clay jug of wine watching and listening. Cytheria had shed her mask and watched. Were one to compare her and Kwyn at this moment the apparent differences would be much harder to spot.
"I witness autumn descend upon an eternal summer and I did so alone. Promises were given, and those promises broke one by one."
"Oh come now. You're just as bad as him." Perun replied. "What am I supposed to respond to? The sheer obviousness of your question? The actual question? Or the implied assumption amongst the three of us here regarding how obvious your question is?"
Cytheria scowled at Perun but there wasn't any true emotion behind it.
"After all this time we still dance these dances." Kwyn said flatly, moving her gaze from Perun, to Cytheria, and back again. "Why is it that we still cannot move on, nor even talk about the past."
"We dance because that's why we are here. We all know things that we will not speak for fear that we will be implicated in some way." Perun said with a sigh. "I never left."
"I assumed." Kwyn added sadly. "For all of this time? For all of those years?"
"Each year I remained. Each year I returned." Perun said animation growing in his voice. "For hundreds of years I presided over nothing. Crumbling stones and leaves caught in the corners of stairs. A chipmunk, dumb animals, nothing the came with purpose. I was there." His eyes were wide with the energy that he felt.
Reynard was back from the wagon standing in the shadows with a clay jug of wine watching and listening. Cytheria had shed her mask and watched. Were one to compare her and Kwyn at this moment the apparent differences would be much harder to spot.
"I witness autumn descend upon an eternal summer and I did so alone. Promises were given, and those promises broke one by one."
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
082
Cytheria and Kywn walked back in to the clearing, each carrying small baskets filled with herbs. Both were dressed down in casual riding gear in soft browns. If one did not know them it would be hard to tell them apart, but if one knew them the distinctions were immediately obvious. Cytheria stood with a look of confidence, her eyes open and he chin high. Kywn wore a confidence as well but there was a difference to it. Her's did not seem to require an audience nor did her eyes ever look for one.
"We found mushrooms," Cytheria offered as the two of them made there way to the fire, "good ones too. Oyster shells."
Kwyn casually sat down and began stripping leaves from her basket of herbs onto a tin plate with a large rim. her hair fell forward in front of her face and Perun watched her for a moment. Her face in shadows and her hands moving quickly. She rubbed the leaves of one of the plan between her fingers, crushing it, before dropping it onto the plate. Then she brought her fingers to her nose and inhaled the scent of the herb.
"Lemon Thyme." Perun said.
"Yes," Cytheria said, "we found a nice patch not far from here. It should do well in the stew tonight." Kwyn raised her head to look at Perun for a moment before going back to her work.
"I for one could use some wine with my meal tonight." Reynard said jumping to his feet.
"It seems you could use wine every night."
"I wonder if that says more about me or the company I keep."
"You. It most certainly says more about you." Cytheria retorted. Reynards laughter echoed in the darkening air as he made his way to the wagon.
"We found mushrooms," Cytheria offered as the two of them made there way to the fire, "good ones too. Oyster shells."
Kwyn casually sat down and began stripping leaves from her basket of herbs onto a tin plate with a large rim. her hair fell forward in front of her face and Perun watched her for a moment. Her face in shadows and her hands moving quickly. She rubbed the leaves of one of the plan between her fingers, crushing it, before dropping it onto the plate. Then she brought her fingers to her nose and inhaled the scent of the herb.
"Lemon Thyme." Perun said.
"Yes," Cytheria said, "we found a nice patch not far from here. It should do well in the stew tonight." Kwyn raised her head to look at Perun for a moment before going back to her work.
"I for one could use some wine with my meal tonight." Reynard said jumping to his feet.
"It seems you could use wine every night."
"I wonder if that says more about me or the company I keep."
"You. It most certainly says more about you." Cytheria retorted. Reynards laughter echoed in the darkening air as he made his way to the wagon.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
081
There they were, the dream ravens. The forth character down, sitting in the middle of the scrying mat. Two tiny birds circling around a full moon all attached to a small square pedestal. Perun pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration that he had not seen it earlier. It was only a moment but he knew it was enough to Reyanrd to see. It doesn't matter, he knew as soon as he spoke.
"They are here. Front and centre." Perun looked at Reynard, who was still looking into the fire. "It has been more then an age since they've been on the board."
"Who will they pair with I wonder? I have not heard your third toss. Throw them now and let's see if there are some answers."
"If I had time I'd read you in right now. As it is I feel I must clear the mat without a third throw. I fear we may make too much noise on this night."
"Although it gales me to admit it, I think that may be wise. But before you clear your mat, who takes the board?"
"Well, the dream ravens as you know. The watchers are there of course."
"Of course."
"The swords are in play as always. The river lies in wait it would seem, although without a third toss I cannot be sure." Perun knelt closer to the pieces on the scrying mat, looking at them from different angles. Gauging their distances from each other and trying to see as much as he could about their relationships without the needed third toss of characters. Faith and Betrayal will be here as well. They have no pairs to mark them but a pattern emerges."
Voices and the crackle of leaves underfoot. With a sigh Perun cleared away the characters and put away his scrying mat. Your timing is perfect yet again.
"They are here. Front and centre." Perun looked at Reynard, who was still looking into the fire. "It has been more then an age since they've been on the board."
"Who will they pair with I wonder? I have not heard your third toss. Throw them now and let's see if there are some answers."
"If I had time I'd read you in right now. As it is I feel I must clear the mat without a third throw. I fear we may make too much noise on this night."
"Although it gales me to admit it, I think that may be wise. But before you clear your mat, who takes the board?"
"Well, the dream ravens as you know. The watchers are there of course."
"Of course."
"The swords are in play as always. The river lies in wait it would seem, although without a third toss I cannot be sure." Perun knelt closer to the pieces on the scrying mat, looking at them from different angles. Gauging their distances from each other and trying to see as much as he could about their relationships without the needed third toss of characters. Faith and Betrayal will be here as well. They have no pairs to mark them but a pattern emerges."
Voices and the crackle of leaves underfoot. With a sigh Perun cleared away the characters and put away his scrying mat. Your timing is perfect yet again.
Monday, March 21, 2011
080
"Ahh but you are not me. It's why you stopped coming. I feel that you're dancing right now, and I'm not sure why. You attempt to invoke a past that has disappeared and as Cytheria mentioned it's so obvious it's confounding as to why you'd do it?" Perun shrugged. "I don't need an answer from you, and it's probably best that I tend to the scrying mat. While things have been awakened there's no need to make unnecessary noise."
Reynard said looking deep into the flames of the fire. He rubbed his chin for a moment feeling the weeks worth of stubble that was drawing closer and closer to becoming a beard. When did I last wear a beard? Reynard pondered. Queen Eustice of Minth the mad tyrant they would call her in centuries to come, but those that were there knew differently. All the people of Minth worshiped mother Bear giver of life and wed to the river. Mother Bear was just and kind, but her appetites was great. In times of need first-born children were delivered to Mother Bears open mouth. Reynard remembered well the first time he saw the tiny bleached-white bones littering the shoreline.
"Dream ravens." Reynard said without looking at Perun.
Swallowing a curse Perun bent to examine his scrying mat.
Reynard said looking deep into the flames of the fire. He rubbed his chin for a moment feeling the weeks worth of stubble that was drawing closer and closer to becoming a beard. When did I last wear a beard? Reynard pondered. Queen Eustice of Minth the mad tyrant they would call her in centuries to come, but those that were there knew differently. All the people of Minth worshiped mother Bear giver of life and wed to the river. Mother Bear was just and kind, but her appetites was great. In times of need first-born children were delivered to Mother Bears open mouth. Reynard remembered well the first time he saw the tiny bleached-white bones littering the shoreline.
"Dream ravens." Reynard said without looking at Perun.
Swallowing a curse Perun bent to examine his scrying mat.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
079
"I suppose." Reynard rose slightly from his crouched position, as if to see the way the pieces had landed, but then shook his head and sat back down.
"After all this time you are curious I see. I can read you in if you would like to participate?"
"Oh I think not. It temps me though, when I see that I'm tempted. But I'd bet this hat of mine that you knew that as well."
Perun shook the bag three more times and then dumped three more characters onto the mat. The characters bumped and spun, one of them stopping short before rolling it's natural distance. Perun knelt close to examine the mat. "I suppose that may be true. Although you saying that implies that you think me bitter."
"I don't think you bitter I know you to be bitter."
"Do you? How could you know anything like that?"
"I know that," Reynard said, "because if I was in your boots I know I'd be bitter."
"After all this time you are curious I see. I can read you in if you would like to participate?"
"Oh I think not. It temps me though, when I see that I'm tempted. But I'd bet this hat of mine that you knew that as well."
Perun shook the bag three more times and then dumped three more characters onto the mat. The characters bumped and spun, one of them stopping short before rolling it's natural distance. Perun knelt close to examine the mat. "I suppose that may be true. Although you saying that implies that you think me bitter."
"I don't think you bitter I know you to be bitter."
"Do you? How could you know anything like that?"
"I know that," Reynard said, "because if I was in your boots I know I'd be bitter."
Saturday, March 19, 2011
078
Reynard laughed heartily and then leaned back against the wagon side with a smile. Perun shook his head in the front seat but remained silent. Kwyn remained motionless except for the occasional movement of her hands as she worked the reins.
The fire cracked in the waning evening light. Perun and Reynard sat around the fire not talking to each other. Cytheria and Kywn were off gathering herbs for dinner, as it was their night to cook. Perun was wearing a loose fitting white cotton shirt with brown woolen pants. Reynard was dressed similarly but his clothing showed a higher degree of workmanship and accents. Of course his still wore his large black hat.
Perun rummaged in his pack and pulled out a small square grass mat that was rolled up into a tube. Reynard watched the man's fluid practiced motions. Perun unrolled the mat onto a flat piece of earth near to the fire's warmth and light. As Perun unrolled the mat he revealed a small brown back. He untied the knot keeping the bag closed and emptied it's contents onto the mat. Silently Reynard edged closer to watch as Peru idly played with the small pieces of black iron fashioned into a myriad of shapes. Some of the items were replicas of everyday objects just shrunk down to a smaller size, some were symbols, and still others were figures in strange contorted shapes standing on small iron pillars.
"I haven't seen anything like that for some time." Reynard commented.
"Sometimes it pays to keep the old traditions alive." Perun said as he idly arranged the iron pieces on the mat. Then with a sweep of his hand he brought all of the pieces towards him and back into the cloth bag. He shook the back three times and reached his hand into the back.
"Are you sure," Reynard began halting Perun mid motion, "that you wish to awake such powerful currents at this stage of the game?"
Perun brought his hand out of the bag and scattered three of the iron pieces onto the mat. "Nothing needs to be awakened Reynard. And this is not news to you. We would not be together on this journey if you were unaware of the powers that have taken the field."
The fire cracked in the waning evening light. Perun and Reynard sat around the fire not talking to each other. Cytheria and Kywn were off gathering herbs for dinner, as it was their night to cook. Perun was wearing a loose fitting white cotton shirt with brown woolen pants. Reynard was dressed similarly but his clothing showed a higher degree of workmanship and accents. Of course his still wore his large black hat.
Perun rummaged in his pack and pulled out a small square grass mat that was rolled up into a tube. Reynard watched the man's fluid practiced motions. Perun unrolled the mat onto a flat piece of earth near to the fire's warmth and light. As Perun unrolled the mat he revealed a small brown back. He untied the knot keeping the bag closed and emptied it's contents onto the mat. Silently Reynard edged closer to watch as Peru idly played with the small pieces of black iron fashioned into a myriad of shapes. Some of the items were replicas of everyday objects just shrunk down to a smaller size, some were symbols, and still others were figures in strange contorted shapes standing on small iron pillars.
"I haven't seen anything like that for some time." Reynard commented.
"Sometimes it pays to keep the old traditions alive." Perun said as he idly arranged the iron pieces on the mat. Then with a sweep of his hand he brought all of the pieces towards him and back into the cloth bag. He shook the back three times and reached his hand into the back.
"Are you sure," Reynard began halting Perun mid motion, "that you wish to awake such powerful currents at this stage of the game?"
Perun brought his hand out of the bag and scattered three of the iron pieces onto the mat. "Nothing needs to be awakened Reynard. And this is not news to you. We would not be together on this journey if you were unaware of the powers that have taken the field."
Friday, March 18, 2011
077
"Of that I have no doubt," Perun said from the front of the wagon, "but I would wager almost anything that your motives are far more nuanced." Perun sat beside Kwyn at the front of the wagon. Kwyn drove and Perun navigated although that was more pretense then any thing given the speed at which they travelled. Kwyn, who in shape resembled Cytheria, wore simple brown riding clothes in stark contrast with theblue dress of Cytheria.
"Oh come now!" Reynard laughed, "As though motives are you speciality. I doubt you can even come to terms with your own motivations."
"There you go." Perun replied. "Your astute comments show you to be much more aware then you would otherwise want to let on."
"They are my comments Perun. If I was as astute as you think I am, would I not be more in control over what I said?"
"My argument exactly." Cytheria said.
"Mine as well Reynard." Perun added.
"I'm not involved with this conversation. But if I was Mr. Hat-In-The-Backseat, I would have to agree with the others."
"But wouldn't that be my game?" Reynard pleaded removing his hat and sitting up. As he sat up he could not resist a quick glance at Cytheria to ensure that everything was still in place.
"Really?" Cytheria said with another deep sigh before shaking her head.
"What?"
"On truth," Cytheria continued, "I wish it was oblivious or obvious given the alternatives."
"Oh come now!" Reynard laughed, "As though motives are you speciality. I doubt you can even come to terms with your own motivations."
"There you go." Perun replied. "Your astute comments show you to be much more aware then you would otherwise want to let on."
"They are my comments Perun. If I was as astute as you think I am, would I not be more in control over what I said?"
"My argument exactly." Cytheria said.
"Mine as well Reynard." Perun added.
"I'm not involved with this conversation. But if I was Mr. Hat-In-The-Backseat, I would have to agree with the others."
"But wouldn't that be my game?" Reynard pleaded removing his hat and sitting up. As he sat up he could not resist a quick glance at Cytheria to ensure that everything was still in place.
"Really?" Cytheria said with another deep sigh before shaking her head.
"What?"
"On truth," Cytheria continued, "I wish it was oblivious or obvious given the alternatives."
Thursday, March 17, 2011
076
Suddenly movement on the grassy plain caught Gregor's eyes. He squinted for a moment disbelieving what he saw. It was a man riding out towards them on the back of a giant horse.
*6*
Reynard lounged in the back of the wagon with his boot heels resting on the wagon's side. He wore a large-brimmed hat made out of black felt that was banded with a bright red ribbon. He had the hat resting low on his nose in order to keep the sun out of his eyes. A lazily chewed on piece of straw as the wagon rumbled down the dusty road.
The wagon began to swap as they went over a particularly bumpy section and Reynard lifted his hat for a moment. He looked at Cytheria and watched two of her beautiful curves bounce in rhythm with the wagon. As the road flattened out Reynard nodded with satisfaction and lowered his hat back over his eyes.
"You know," Cytheria said, "I'm never quite sure what you're doing when you do that."
"Funny, I thought it would be obvious." Reynard said lazily from underneath his hat.
"When you do it, I wonder if you think that you're doing it without me noticing, you're doing it so that I notice, or you're doing it regardless of whether or not I notice." She sighed deeply.
Renard's arm twitched towards his hat for a brief moment before he thought better of it. A shame really, such a deep sigh and such a tight blue riding dress.
"Again, I'm not sure what to think. But I assume that because of your clumsy motions you know that I will notice. So you either want me to notice or you don't care."
"Or maybe I like the view."
*6*
Reynard lounged in the back of the wagon with his boot heels resting on the wagon's side. He wore a large-brimmed hat made out of black felt that was banded with a bright red ribbon. He had the hat resting low on his nose in order to keep the sun out of his eyes. A lazily chewed on piece of straw as the wagon rumbled down the dusty road.
The wagon began to swap as they went over a particularly bumpy section and Reynard lifted his hat for a moment. He looked at Cytheria and watched two of her beautiful curves bounce in rhythm with the wagon. As the road flattened out Reynard nodded with satisfaction and lowered his hat back over his eyes.
"You know," Cytheria said, "I'm never quite sure what you're doing when you do that."
"Funny, I thought it would be obvious." Reynard said lazily from underneath his hat.
"When you do it, I wonder if you think that you're doing it without me noticing, you're doing it so that I notice, or you're doing it regardless of whether or not I notice." She sighed deeply.
Renard's arm twitched towards his hat for a brief moment before he thought better of it. A shame really, such a deep sigh and such a tight blue riding dress.
"Again, I'm not sure what to think. But I assume that because of your clumsy motions you know that I will notice. So you either want me to notice or you don't care."
"Or maybe I like the view."
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
075
Days passed and the Skulled Ones travelled still deeper into the mist-born forest. The days passed by in a haze for Gregor. Even through the haze Gregor could see the change that had occurred in the Skulled Ones. They no longer hid their tracks nor travelled in fear. They talked more as they travelled and lit large fires during the night. They no longer travelled in fear.
Eonus had returned later in that day and told of another meeting with the Skulled Ones in a tent. Different men were there with Eonus, and different men continued to "interview" him as the days passed. Eonus and Gregor talked less and less.
Gregor saw little of Eonus as they travelled on different horses during the day. It was only when they camped for the evening that they got to speak to each other. During that time it was usually Eonus that did the talking. Telling him about what had happened to him during the day or about events from this past. Gregor grew to learn much about Eonus' child hood and enjoyed listening to the stories. It wasn't so much the content that he enjoyed it was the rhythm of the speech. Gregor enjoyed curling up on the grass and just letting Eonus' stories wash over them. Beating patterns of sound that woven simple life stories. Minutes later Gregor sometimes would have been able to tell you what the content of the stories were but they still gave him pleasure. If Eonus noticed Gregor's lack of interest or participation he made no note of it.
The topography they travelled through became less and less densely wooded as the days wore on. It was still densely wooded but there was more sunlight from above and they came upon more and more open meadows. Gregor became more and more used to these changes and had stopped taking note of them as they happened. Then one day he saw the trees fade behind him as he lazily rode, tied to a man, on a horse. The horse stopped suddenly and cessation of motion caught Gregor unaware and he bumped into the man in front of him earning an annoyed grunt.
Calls came up from the group of Skulled Ones. They were shouting and whooping and laughing with one another. Shaking himself awake Gregor looked to see what had brought about this sudden outburst of joy, and then he saw it.
The Skulled Ones had ridden out of the forest onto a ridge, and down below them a wide valley opened up. The valley wore trees that gently thinned to reveal a blue river and green grasslands. The river cut lazily through the grasslands before taking a strange turn and dropped beneath a bridge. Gregor gasped, as he saw the river split in two to form a moat around a crumbling ancient castle, the likes of which Gregor had never before seen.
Eonus had returned later in that day and told of another meeting with the Skulled Ones in a tent. Different men were there with Eonus, and different men continued to "interview" him as the days passed. Eonus and Gregor talked less and less.
Gregor saw little of Eonus as they travelled on different horses during the day. It was only when they camped for the evening that they got to speak to each other. During that time it was usually Eonus that did the talking. Telling him about what had happened to him during the day or about events from this past. Gregor grew to learn much about Eonus' child hood and enjoyed listening to the stories. It wasn't so much the content that he enjoyed it was the rhythm of the speech. Gregor enjoyed curling up on the grass and just letting Eonus' stories wash over them. Beating patterns of sound that woven simple life stories. Minutes later Gregor sometimes would have been able to tell you what the content of the stories were but they still gave him pleasure. If Eonus noticed Gregor's lack of interest or participation he made no note of it.
The topography they travelled through became less and less densely wooded as the days wore on. It was still densely wooded but there was more sunlight from above and they came upon more and more open meadows. Gregor became more and more used to these changes and had stopped taking note of them as they happened. Then one day he saw the trees fade behind him as he lazily rode, tied to a man, on a horse. The horse stopped suddenly and cessation of motion caught Gregor unaware and he bumped into the man in front of him earning an annoyed grunt.
Calls came up from the group of Skulled Ones. They were shouting and whooping and laughing with one another. Shaking himself awake Gregor looked to see what had brought about this sudden outburst of joy, and then he saw it.
The Skulled Ones had ridden out of the forest onto a ridge, and down below them a wide valley opened up. The valley wore trees that gently thinned to reveal a blue river and green grasslands. The river cut lazily through the grasslands before taking a strange turn and dropped beneath a bridge. Gregor gasped, as he saw the river split in two to form a moat around a crumbling ancient castle, the likes of which Gregor had never before seen.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
074
"Baran!" A deep and strangely nasally voice shouted from behind Gregor. Slowly, with sleep still deep within his tired bones, Gregor turned to face the tattooed man who was walking towards him. Baran's balls, the man is smiling!
The man with the tattoos walked up to Baran with a grin that hurt Gregor's head. It wasn't an insane grin, or the snarls that he had seen before. God's below. This beast is happy. Gregor stood to face the man awkwardly. He didn't know what was happening and his confidence was badly shaken. He could feel the awkwardness in his movements, like a young man approaching a beautiful woman. His movements lacked the confidence of a Censor to the Electorate. They were the movements of a tired old man who's life had spun out of control.
"Baran." The tattooed man said again, his face split wide with his smile. The dark lines that criss-crossed his arms and chest seemed darker still when they were compared with the new light that shone in his eyes. "Baran!" The man yelled swinging his arms at the wooded scene around them.
Gregor was unable to speak. He didn't know what the man wanted and so he just looked at the man. Moments passed and the man with the tattoos began to look quizzically at Gregor. Gregor, Censor to the Electorate and tied to a horse picket, shrugged his shoulders.
"Baran?" Gregor shook his head. "Baran's balls man, I have nothing left here. I feel liked I'm going out of my mind. I'm a tax man, I push paper for the government. This isn't where I'm supposed to be. There was a man here yesterday. Tied to the picket with me and the Black Crone's horses here, and today he's gone. I talked to someone, a man who understood me and no he's gone. I haven't a friend in the world, save a tattooed madman who want's to talk to me about a God. I don't know what you want. You want Baran? Is this Baran? I've no idea tattoo man, you'd have to ask a priest!"
The man with the tattoos laughed and patted Gregor on the shoulder as he walked by. Gregor wanted to scream. He wanted to hit the man. He wanted to hit himself. He wanted to chew through his bonds, through his own damned arms. Instead he just slumped to his knees and watched the giant horses eat some grass.
The man with the tattoos walked up to Baran with a grin that hurt Gregor's head. It wasn't an insane grin, or the snarls that he had seen before. God's below. This beast is happy. Gregor stood to face the man awkwardly. He didn't know what was happening and his confidence was badly shaken. He could feel the awkwardness in his movements, like a young man approaching a beautiful woman. His movements lacked the confidence of a Censor to the Electorate. They were the movements of a tired old man who's life had spun out of control.
"Baran." The tattooed man said again, his face split wide with his smile. The dark lines that criss-crossed his arms and chest seemed darker still when they were compared with the new light that shone in his eyes. "Baran!" The man yelled swinging his arms at the wooded scene around them.
Gregor was unable to speak. He didn't know what the man wanted and so he just looked at the man. Moments passed and the man with the tattoos began to look quizzically at Gregor. Gregor, Censor to the Electorate and tied to a horse picket, shrugged his shoulders.
"Baran?" Gregor shook his head. "Baran's balls man, I have nothing left here. I feel liked I'm going out of my mind. I'm a tax man, I push paper for the government. This isn't where I'm supposed to be. There was a man here yesterday. Tied to the picket with me and the Black Crone's horses here, and today he's gone. I talked to someone, a man who understood me and no he's gone. I haven't a friend in the world, save a tattooed madman who want's to talk to me about a God. I don't know what you want. You want Baran? Is this Baran? I've no idea tattoo man, you'd have to ask a priest!"
The man with the tattoos laughed and patted Gregor on the shoulder as he walked by. Gregor wanted to scream. He wanted to hit the man. He wanted to hit himself. He wanted to chew through his bonds, through his own damned arms. Instead he just slumped to his knees and watched the giant horses eat some grass.
Monday, March 14, 2011
073
"And you Censor?" Eonus continued.
"Gregor, my name is Gregor. I've been here almost two weeks now. I was on a routine polling of the populace, when the Skulled ones came upon my Lictors and I." Gregor lied with practiced ease, the duties of a Censor to the Electorate were often secretive in nature and the current call back to Ayrillac was no different. In fact the reason for the call was still, and would likely remain, a secret to Gregor.
"Did any of your men survive?"
"No." Saying this aloud was difficult. Some of those men had been with Gregor for years. "Not that I know of."
"Do you think that they will let us go."
"I don't know Eonus. Frankly I don't know why I'm still alive. And I don't know why you're still here. I faced no meeting like you, so I'm even more in the dark as to why were here."
"If they'd have wanted us dead they could have killed us at any time."
"I suppose. I can't hope to know what they're planning."
The conversation hung there in the air with neither of the two men speaking. Gregor soon began to hear the steady deep breathing of Eonus as the man slept. Gregor wanted to cry. His insides felt as though he should be sobbing as he curled himself into a ball on the ground. But no tears would come.
Gregor sat at his desk trying to find the latest tax totals to send to Ayrillac, but something wasn't right. He just couldn't find the correct papers. Everything he looked at just wasn't right. The words were mixed up and not matter which paper he looked at the paper that he needed just wasn't there. Blackness.
Light came in through Gregor's eyelids and he blinked rapidly easing the pane. He pushed himself onto his knees. An early-morning grimace formed on his face as he looked around squinting his eyes until his was able to fully take in the light. The giant horses regarded him as they lazily ate grass. They no longer seemed to mind having Gregor share their picket with them. Eonus was no where to be found.
The Skulled Ones were busy down by the main camp. A cook fire was burning brightly creating the glowing coals that would be used to roast root vegetables. Two men sat laughing and talking by the fire. Cook duty, Gregor assumed. The camp seemed louder then it had since Gregor had been captured. There was a lightness and comfort in the movement of the Skulled Ones that Gregor had not seen before. If he had woken with amnesia Gregor could have assumed that the fire were on a vacation instead part of some strange foreign force or murderers.
"Gregor, my name is Gregor. I've been here almost two weeks now. I was on a routine polling of the populace, when the Skulled ones came upon my Lictors and I." Gregor lied with practiced ease, the duties of a Censor to the Electorate were often secretive in nature and the current call back to Ayrillac was no different. In fact the reason for the call was still, and would likely remain, a secret to Gregor.
"Did any of your men survive?"
"No." Saying this aloud was difficult. Some of those men had been with Gregor for years. "Not that I know of."
"Do you think that they will let us go."
"I don't know Eonus. Frankly I don't know why I'm still alive. And I don't know why you're still here. I faced no meeting like you, so I'm even more in the dark as to why were here."
"If they'd have wanted us dead they could have killed us at any time."
"I suppose. I can't hope to know what they're planning."
The conversation hung there in the air with neither of the two men speaking. Gregor soon began to hear the steady deep breathing of Eonus as the man slept. Gregor wanted to cry. His insides felt as though he should be sobbing as he curled himself into a ball on the ground. But no tears would come.
Gregor sat at his desk trying to find the latest tax totals to send to Ayrillac, but something wasn't right. He just couldn't find the correct papers. Everything he looked at just wasn't right. The words were mixed up and not matter which paper he looked at the paper that he needed just wasn't there. Blackness.
Light came in through Gregor's eyelids and he blinked rapidly easing the pane. He pushed himself onto his knees. An early-morning grimace formed on his face as he looked around squinting his eyes until his was able to fully take in the light. The giant horses regarded him as they lazily ate grass. They no longer seemed to mind having Gregor share their picket with them. Eonus was no where to be found.
The Skulled Ones were busy down by the main camp. A cook fire was burning brightly creating the glowing coals that would be used to roast root vegetables. Two men sat laughing and talking by the fire. Cook duty, Gregor assumed. The camp seemed louder then it had since Gregor had been captured. There was a lightness and comfort in the movement of the Skulled Ones that Gregor had not seen before. If he had woken with amnesia Gregor could have assumed that the fire were on a vacation instead part of some strange foreign force or murderers.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
072
"Octavius? No he joined Baran before my father would let me in the place. His son now tends the bar."
"Nonius?"
"Aye, he's been behind the par as long as I can remember." There was a pause in the conversation between the two men filled only with the sounds of the forest. "Now what sort of a Censor would know anything about the North Banks?"
"I spent some time there."
"A long time ago?"
"Yes, so long ago it feels like another life." Gregor was shocked with how the death of Octavius had struck him. Surely he had known that the man could no longer be among the living? Known but not know. "It's amazing the paths of our lives. The directions and the twists and the turns. Baran knows this was never a positions I'd have imagined for myself."
"It's hard to know who could Censor." Eonus said with a cough.
"This is sadly true. And now what lies ahead? Is this not always veiled, and yet it would seem now more then ever."
"I'm not sure I follow you Censor?"
"An indulgence only. What did they ask of you? These skulled ones?"
"The skulled ones?"
"These men. Our captors. You might not remember it, but these men wear skull masks during battle. Large masks with horns and fangs, creatures the likes of which I do not know. Lacking anything else I began to refer to them as the Skulled Ones."
"Understood. What did they want of me? I don't really know Censor. They sat me down in one of their tents, with a blasted fire right in front of me. A fire in a tent! And then they began to jabber at me in that language of theirs. I couldn't make a soup out of what they were saying but they just kept talking to me. I was still weak in the head though, and they must'ave known that so they eventually stopped talking." Eonus clear his thought and spat. "Then they just looked at me. Eyes reflecting over the fire as I sat their sweating. Then the bastards just grunted, and I mean grunted at each other and took me back here."
"Must have got what they wanted then."
"Aye."
"Nonius?"
"Aye, he's been behind the par as long as I can remember." There was a pause in the conversation between the two men filled only with the sounds of the forest. "Now what sort of a Censor would know anything about the North Banks?"
"I spent some time there."
"A long time ago?"
"Yes, so long ago it feels like another life." Gregor was shocked with how the death of Octavius had struck him. Surely he had known that the man could no longer be among the living? Known but not know. "It's amazing the paths of our lives. The directions and the twists and the turns. Baran knows this was never a positions I'd have imagined for myself."
"It's hard to know who could Censor." Eonus said with a cough.
"This is sadly true. And now what lies ahead? Is this not always veiled, and yet it would seem now more then ever."
"I'm not sure I follow you Censor?"
"An indulgence only. What did they ask of you? These skulled ones?"
"The skulled ones?"
"These men. Our captors. You might not remember it, but these men wear skull masks during battle. Large masks with horns and fangs, creatures the likes of which I do not know. Lacking anything else I began to refer to them as the Skulled Ones."
"Understood. What did they want of me? I don't really know Censor. They sat me down in one of their tents, with a blasted fire right in front of me. A fire in a tent! And then they began to jabber at me in that language of theirs. I couldn't make a soup out of what they were saying but they just kept talking to me. I was still weak in the head though, and they must'ave known that so they eventually stopped talking." Eonus clear his thought and spat. "Then they just looked at me. Eyes reflecting over the fire as I sat their sweating. Then the bastards just grunted, and I mean grunted at each other and took me back here."
"Must have got what they wanted then."
"Aye."
Saturday, March 12, 2011
071
"Aye." Eonus said derision in his voice.
"I admit to spending much of the last twenty years behind a desk, and yet I well remember men like him. These men are well trained, one looks and that is obvious enough. The shame is that he took other men down with him."
"The man was an ass. Two weeks out of Ayrillac, still green and he thought to test us."
"Ayrillac?" Gregor asked, hope rising in his voice. That the men had not been sent to rescue him as disappointing and yet given the time frame obvious enough upon analysis. But he might know the state of affairs. "Is there any news from the capital?"
"News? There is always news but nothing I could relate that would be of importance. I could tell you of the North Banks, or the rumours the soldiers speak of, but being a Censor I doubt that is the news that you would be looking for."
"The North Banks?" Gregor said a sad laugh leaving his mouth. "Any news from the Cat's Tail? Is old Octavius behind the bar still serving calda?"
"I admit to spending much of the last twenty years behind a desk, and yet I well remember men like him. These men are well trained, one looks and that is obvious enough. The shame is that he took other men down with him."
"The man was an ass. Two weeks out of Ayrillac, still green and he thought to test us."
"Ayrillac?" Gregor asked, hope rising in his voice. That the men had not been sent to rescue him as disappointing and yet given the time frame obvious enough upon analysis. But he might know the state of affairs. "Is there any news from the capital?"
"News? There is always news but nothing I could relate that would be of importance. I could tell you of the North Banks, or the rumours the soldiers speak of, but being a Censor I doubt that is the news that you would be looking for."
"The North Banks?" Gregor said a sad laugh leaving his mouth. "Any news from the Cat's Tail? Is old Octavius behind the bar still serving calda?"
Friday, March 11, 2011
070
"Eonus Censor." The man's voice was weak. "We, we knew nothing of the raiders." Eonus slipped closer to Gregor. "We came upon their trail after following rumours of missing cattle nothing more."
"You thought they were common thieves then."
"Yes, when we had out first sight of them, we believed them to be something else. And then we saw you. The dress of Censor to the Electorate held captive." The man stopped to cough into his hands. "Decanus Milonius heard of their numbers and thought they were something we could take." He paused for a moment and Gregor knew that in the dark the soldier, Eonus, was shaking his head. "We didn't really know."
"What was one Contubernium doing out with only a Decanus to lead you?"
"You cut to the quick Censor. We were a new unit, put together and on a training patrol. Nothing more then a glorified camping trip." Gregor could hear the emotion welling up in the man's voice. "Milonius was hungry for stature, he wanted more. So when he heard of the missing animals, he thought to turn the training patrol into a chance at glory."
"And a rescuing a captured Censor," Gregor finished, "would be quite the prize to return home from a training patrol with. With the odds he would have seen, it must have seemed as though the Black Crone herself had kissed him when he slept."
"You thought they were common thieves then."
"Yes, when we had out first sight of them, we believed them to be something else. And then we saw you. The dress of Censor to the Electorate held captive." The man stopped to cough into his hands. "Decanus Milonius heard of their numbers and thought they were something we could take." He paused for a moment and Gregor knew that in the dark the soldier, Eonus, was shaking his head. "We didn't really know."
"What was one Contubernium doing out with only a Decanus to lead you?"
"You cut to the quick Censor. We were a new unit, put together and on a training patrol. Nothing more then a glorified camping trip." Gregor could hear the emotion welling up in the man's voice. "Milonius was hungry for stature, he wanted more. So when he heard of the missing animals, he thought to turn the training patrol into a chance at glory."
"And a rescuing a captured Censor," Gregor finished, "would be quite the prize to return home from a training patrol with. With the odds he would have seen, it must have seemed as though the Black Crone herself had kissed him when he slept."
Thursday, March 10, 2011
069
Soon after eating Gregor fell into a deep sleep. His body lay on it's side no the ground with his hands close to his face. It was the only position that he had found comfortable enough to sleep in. Most nights he struggled to sleep, struggled to find a comfortable position on the ground, but after so much his body let go, and Gregor was almost asleep before he lay down.
Gregor was awoken by voices. He hear some Skulled Ones talking, their voices were getting closer and closer until one of them seemed to be standing directly over him. Cautiously Gregor opened his eyes and found that night was fully upon him. His eyes began to adjust themselves and once they had he was able to make out the slight outlines of objects highlighted by the moon. The men continued to talk, seemingly oblivious of Gregor and then something heavy was dropped to the ground with a grunt. 'The soldier.' Gregor thought to himself.
The skulled ones spent some time working on the soldiers bonds, Gregor could feel their anxious tugs on the horse pickets in his own bound hands. In a few moments they were gone. Gregor waited until he could no longer hear their voices and then turned towards the soldier.
"Ave soldier," Gregor said in a whisper, "what is your name? What brought your Contubernium to attack these men? What news? Does the Electorate know of these invaders? Are you all right?" Gregor paused for a moment and caught his breath. "I'm sorry, I've ached to talk with you since I knew you were alive. It's been almost two days since you were conscious and the questions have built up inside of me."
Gregor was awoken by voices. He hear some Skulled Ones talking, their voices were getting closer and closer until one of them seemed to be standing directly over him. Cautiously Gregor opened his eyes and found that night was fully upon him. His eyes began to adjust themselves and once they had he was able to make out the slight outlines of objects highlighted by the moon. The men continued to talk, seemingly oblivious of Gregor and then something heavy was dropped to the ground with a grunt. 'The soldier.' Gregor thought to himself.
The skulled ones spent some time working on the soldiers bonds, Gregor could feel their anxious tugs on the horse pickets in his own bound hands. In a few moments they were gone. Gregor waited until he could no longer hear their voices and then turned towards the soldier.
"Ave soldier," Gregor said in a whisper, "what is your name? What brought your Contubernium to attack these men? What news? Does the Electorate know of these invaders? Are you all right?" Gregor paused for a moment and caught his breath. "I'm sorry, I've ached to talk with you since I knew you were alive. It's been almost two days since you were conscious and the questions have built up inside of me."
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
068
Gregor stood tied to the horse picket trying to stretch his back and watching the Skulled Ones, as he'd taken to thinking of them, setup camp. He was exhausted and he could tell that they were as well. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the fear, it probably was the fear, but after days of feeling numb Gregor was sinking beneath the weight of his capture. He had felt these feelings in the past but something felt different this time. This far from civilization and in the face of the failed ambush, what hope was there for a man like Gregor to survive? Years behind a desk had done nothing to prepare him for the reality that stretched before his eyes.
There was a groan from the man laying bound at Gregor's feet. Gregor looked down to see the man's eyes flutter open.
"W...water." The man's voice was low and it cracked even on the short wort he uttered.
Gregor bent and grabbed his untouched cup of water, which lay beside his untouched plate of food. He lifted the man's head into his lap and poured some water into his mouth. The man coughed up the first drop of water, then his throat opened up and he was able to take the next few sips of water the Gregor offered him.
"Go easy, there's not much water and you'll want to drink most of it I'm sure." Gregor said trying to ensure that the man kept the water down.
The Skulled Ones were there, Gregor could hear them speaking in their unknown language. He looked up to see four of them watching the man drink the water on Gregor's lap. The tattooed man was there, nodding as the other two spoke. Satisfied the tattooed man stepped forward and picked up the man spilling the cup of water in the process. He hefted the man from the Contubernium onto his shoulder effortlessly and began walking away with the three other Skulled ones. Gregor sat for a moment motionless, before he brought the plate onto his lap and began eating.
There was a groan from the man laying bound at Gregor's feet. Gregor looked down to see the man's eyes flutter open.
"W...water." The man's voice was low and it cracked even on the short wort he uttered.
Gregor bent and grabbed his untouched cup of water, which lay beside his untouched plate of food. He lifted the man's head into his lap and poured some water into his mouth. The man coughed up the first drop of water, then his throat opened up and he was able to take the next few sips of water the Gregor offered him.
"Go easy, there's not much water and you'll want to drink most of it I'm sure." Gregor said trying to ensure that the man kept the water down.
The Skulled Ones were there, Gregor could hear them speaking in their unknown language. He looked up to see four of them watching the man drink the water on Gregor's lap. The tattooed man was there, nodding as the other two spoke. Satisfied the tattooed man stepped forward and picked up the man spilling the cup of water in the process. He hefted the man from the Contubernium onto his shoulder effortlessly and began walking away with the three other Skulled ones. Gregor sat for a moment motionless, before he brought the plate onto his lap and began eating.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
067
Soon afterwards Gregor was back on horse riding behind one of his captors. His hands were bound and it was incredibly uncomfortable to his already sore muscles. The men were more at ease during the days travel and there were no signs as they traveled deeper through he forest. Gregor was upset with himself because he now had no idea where they were. They were travelling westward with the sun implying that they were travelling still deeper into the Moss-Head forest.
The topography had changed slightly and large rocks had become visible from time to time covered with a mat of brown pine needles and moss. The trees were tall with boughs that spread across the gaps between the trunks, blotting out much of the sun. The roots for these old trees would run long through the covering of soil over the rocky shield that Gregor knew they now traveled over.
He could see the map in his head, but Moss-Head was a massive forest largely uninhabited and their direction to the North or South would matter dearly. The forest awoke memories of stories his mother had told Gregor when he was a young boy. Stories of thieves and Nymphs. Of wild creatures and wilder men, no good was said to come from Moss-Head forest, at least according to those in the walled city of Ayrillac.
As Gregor had traveled more due to his job as a Censor he learnt that the smaller villages had their own Moss-Head stories, the only points these stories seemed to agree upon was that travelling through Moss-Head was a bad idea. Gregor had always discounted the tales as nothing more then stories to get young children to behave. Or stories spread by thieves or hermits trying to keep people as far away as possible. Although, now that he thought about it how likely was it that hermits would go spreading stories. Regardless of how the stories had been spread Gregor saw no signs of human or supernatural life. There were no paths or marks upon the terrain save those made by animals or weather.
The topography had changed slightly and large rocks had become visible from time to time covered with a mat of brown pine needles and moss. The trees were tall with boughs that spread across the gaps between the trunks, blotting out much of the sun. The roots for these old trees would run long through the covering of soil over the rocky shield that Gregor knew they now traveled over.
He could see the map in his head, but Moss-Head was a massive forest largely uninhabited and their direction to the North or South would matter dearly. The forest awoke memories of stories his mother had told Gregor when he was a young boy. Stories of thieves and Nymphs. Of wild creatures and wilder men, no good was said to come from Moss-Head forest, at least according to those in the walled city of Ayrillac.
As Gregor had traveled more due to his job as a Censor he learnt that the smaller villages had their own Moss-Head stories, the only points these stories seemed to agree upon was that travelling through Moss-Head was a bad idea. Gregor had always discounted the tales as nothing more then stories to get young children to behave. Or stories spread by thieves or hermits trying to keep people as far away as possible. Although, now that he thought about it how likely was it that hermits would go spreading stories. Regardless of how the stories had been spread Gregor saw no signs of human or supernatural life. There were no paths or marks upon the terrain save those made by animals or weather.
Monday, March 7, 2011
066
The man grabbed the reins of the giant horse that Gregor was tied too and, after a subtle motion to Gregor, began leading the group. He led them through the prairie grass and onto the gravel shore of the creek. The sandy-gravel was dark with moisture and pockets of water rose to fill their footprints. The man stopped short of the creek and fished a rag out of the horse's saddle bags. He dipped the rag in the water, wrung the water from it quickly, and casually tossed it towards Gregor.
Gregor was putting the unconscious soldier down when the man tossed him the rag. He hurriedly dropped the man to the earth and attempted to catch the rag. The rope tied to his bound hands caught on the unconscious soldiers legs and Gregor stumble, his hands being pulled downwards and his back-end jerking away from him. The rag hit the side of his body and then fell into the sandy shoreline. The man who had thrown the rag barked out a laugh and retried the now sandy rag from Gregor. After removing the sand fro the rag in the creek the man made a great show on handing the rag to Gregor. Despite his best intentions Gregor was unable to keep the sarcastic look from creeping into his face. Lana used to perform similar routines on Gregor when she would catch him doing something that she thought was foolish. Gregor's role was to play the patronizing fatherly role, a role which he now fell into without fully thinking about it. Gregor snatched the rag from the man's hands, he was tired, and his body ached from the nights ride. Gregor looked at the man and held the rag up in the air asking the man what he wanted.
The man barked out another laugh, deeper than the one before. He continued to laugh and began to walk away. As he passed Gregor, he gave Gregor a slap on the back before stepping up onto the grassy bank and sitting down. Gregor looked at the man, and he made a circle motion with his hand in front of his face. Nodding Gregor knelt down in the wet sandy and began to clean the blood from the soldiers face and body. As he worked he occasionally stole glances at the man who sat on the bank. As far as he could tell the man had all but forgotten that Gregor or the still unconscious soldier were even there. He passed his time braiding grasses together or tossing rocks into the stream, but as far as Gregor could see the man never once looked over.
Gregor was putting the unconscious soldier down when the man tossed him the rag. He hurriedly dropped the man to the earth and attempted to catch the rag. The rope tied to his bound hands caught on the unconscious soldiers legs and Gregor stumble, his hands being pulled downwards and his back-end jerking away from him. The rag hit the side of his body and then fell into the sandy shoreline. The man who had thrown the rag barked out a laugh and retried the now sandy rag from Gregor. After removing the sand fro the rag in the creek the man made a great show on handing the rag to Gregor. Despite his best intentions Gregor was unable to keep the sarcastic look from creeping into his face. Lana used to perform similar routines on Gregor when she would catch him doing something that she thought was foolish. Gregor's role was to play the patronizing fatherly role, a role which he now fell into without fully thinking about it. Gregor snatched the rag from the man's hands, he was tired, and his body ached from the nights ride. Gregor looked at the man and held the rag up in the air asking the man what he wanted.
The man barked out another laugh, deeper than the one before. He continued to laugh and began to walk away. As he passed Gregor, he gave Gregor a slap on the back before stepping up onto the grassy bank and sitting down. Gregor looked at the man, and he made a circle motion with his hand in front of his face. Nodding Gregor knelt down in the wet sandy and began to clean the blood from the soldiers face and body. As he worked he occasionally stole glances at the man who sat on the bank. As far as he could tell the man had all but forgotten that Gregor or the still unconscious soldier were even there. He passed his time braiding grasses together or tossing rocks into the stream, but as far as Gregor could see the man never once looked over.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
065
Brand and Secundus would be fine. Their paths were leading them into city politics and his demise wouldn't hurt any of that. City politicians were always glad when Censors from the Electorate were far away. Thankfully they would be able to Lana, but sometimes Gregor was unsure about how they were growing up. It was a lifestyle so different from Gregor's own. True they were saved a drunken and abusive father, but would they miss something growing up as they did in the circles that they traveled. They missed the abuse though, of that Gregor was proud.
Gregor saw the survivor from the Contubernium, still unconscious, being carried towards him. The man's hands were tied behind his back which was different from Gregor's positions since his hands were tied together on the front of his body. Gregor also always had his hands tied to something else, in this case it was the horse that he had been on earlier.
The unconscious man was dropped at beside Gregor, his face was covered in dry and cracked blood. He moaned slowly as his body sank and settled on the earth. The man who brought the unconscious soldier started talking to Gregor using his odd language, while pointing at the unconscious man.
Gregor shook his head at the choppy syllables, "I don't understand. I'm sorry." Gregor lifted his hands up in front of his body in a pleading gesture and shook them back and forth.
The man gestured at the unconscious soldier again, pointing at him repeatedly. Then, still talking, he mimed lifting the soldier up and putting him on his back.
Gregor pointed at his chest, "You want me to pick him up?"
"Ock! Ock!" The man said and nodded. He put his hands on his hips and waited.
With a sigh Gregor got to his feet. He showed the man his bound hands for a moment hoping that they would be untied. The man glanced at him for, but made no move to untie Gregor. In fact besides his eyes the man made no movement whatsoever. Gregor slowly got to his feet audibly reacting to the pains in his legs and back.
Gregor saw the survivor from the Contubernium, still unconscious, being carried towards him. The man's hands were tied behind his back which was different from Gregor's positions since his hands were tied together on the front of his body. Gregor also always had his hands tied to something else, in this case it was the horse that he had been on earlier.
The unconscious man was dropped at beside Gregor, his face was covered in dry and cracked blood. He moaned slowly as his body sank and settled on the earth. The man who brought the unconscious soldier started talking to Gregor using his odd language, while pointing at the unconscious man.
Gregor shook his head at the choppy syllables, "I don't understand. I'm sorry." Gregor lifted his hands up in front of his body in a pleading gesture and shook them back and forth.
The man gestured at the unconscious soldier again, pointing at him repeatedly. Then, still talking, he mimed lifting the soldier up and putting him on his back.
Gregor pointed at his chest, "You want me to pick him up?"
"Ock! Ock!" The man said and nodded. He put his hands on his hips and waited.
With a sigh Gregor got to his feet. He showed the man his bound hands for a moment hoping that they would be untied. The man glanced at him for, but made no move to untie Gregor. In fact besides his eyes the man made no movement whatsoever. Gregor slowly got to his feet audibly reacting to the pains in his legs and back.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
064
Gregor awoke as he was uncerimonioulsy pulled from the back of the horse he had been sleeping on. He was groggy for a moment, almost unsure of where he was, but then the aches and pains in his body reminded him of where he was. Next it was the stinging rope burn around his wrists. He was dropped to the earth on the banks of a wide creek.
The creek was shallow and clear. He could see the multi-coloured rocks and sand at it's bottom. The centre was broken by a large sandbar of dark grey sand. The horses were lazily drinking from the stream and swishing their tails back and forth. There were long prarie grasses here where the forest broke around the creek and made room for the sun. They swayed in the sun and showed full seed pods that were ready to drop when the winter winds turned the grass into hay.
Someone kicked Gregor gently in his boot to get his attention. Gregor looked up, still feeling the fatigue of just having woken up, to look at the tattooed man. The man handed Gregor a full water skin, from which Gregor drank deeply. The man watched Gregor drink, and when Gregor finished the tattooed man took the skin from him and walked away with a nod.
Gregor was stunned for a moment with the way the world carried on, despite his life being turned upside down. The grass didn't care and neither did the forest of the sun. His role in all of this was nothing. Then for the first time since being captured Gregor thought about his family. It was like a trickle of emotion that slowly made it's way through him.
"Lana..." He said out loud softly. She has no idea. It would be weeks before Gregor and his Lictor's absence would be enough to be noticed. Anything shorter then that would be ascribed to weather or possible injury along the road. The Electorate would send a search party out for him, but when would Lana learn of his fate? It would be months before she would find out, and during that time she wouldn't even know that anything was amiss. At least there was that.
The creek was shallow and clear. He could see the multi-coloured rocks and sand at it's bottom. The centre was broken by a large sandbar of dark grey sand. The horses were lazily drinking from the stream and swishing their tails back and forth. There were long prarie grasses here where the forest broke around the creek and made room for the sun. They swayed in the sun and showed full seed pods that were ready to drop when the winter winds turned the grass into hay.
Someone kicked Gregor gently in his boot to get his attention. Gregor looked up, still feeling the fatigue of just having woken up, to look at the tattooed man. The man handed Gregor a full water skin, from which Gregor drank deeply. The man watched Gregor drink, and when Gregor finished the tattooed man took the skin from him and walked away with a nod.
Gregor was stunned for a moment with the way the world carried on, despite his life being turned upside down. The grass didn't care and neither did the forest of the sun. His role in all of this was nothing. Then for the first time since being captured Gregor thought about his family. It was like a trickle of emotion that slowly made it's way through him.
"Lana..." He said out loud softly. She has no idea. It would be weeks before Gregor and his Lictor's absence would be enough to be noticed. Anything shorter then that would be ascribed to weather or possible injury along the road. The Electorate would send a search party out for him, but when would Lana learn of his fate? It would be months before she would find out, and during that time she wouldn't even know that anything was amiss. At least there was that.
Friday, March 4, 2011
063
The tattooed man looked at Gregor for another moment as if reevaluating him and then walked away seemingly satisfied. Gregor stood unmoving and watched the man walk away. His heart was pounding in his chest with a violence that was audible to his ears. he remembered to breathe and his breath came back to him in ragged gasps. The giant horses looked at him with impassive eyes, not moving and yet seeming to give him space.
After a few moments Gregor began to take stock of the scene that was unfolding around him. His captors were breaking camp at a rapid pace. The last man from the Contubernium lay unconscious in a bloody heap by the fire. His arms had been bound behind his back and he had been rolled onto his side. Blood was freely flowing down his nose, and the men that walked around him gathering gear simply stepped over him, as they did the other bodies, without paying any attention.
The rode through the night, making their way deeper into Moss-Head forest cautiously. Gregor and the unconscious prisoner were gagged and bound onto the backs of two separate horses. The large horses amazed Gregor with their night vision and their ability to quietly pick their way through the trees. Gregor found the excitement and fear of the night coursing rapidly through his veins and was unable to sleep.
He watched the men calling out to each other using a flurry of hand signals and occasionally speaking in low whispers when they had slowed for rests. They would slow for these rests when the scouts would return to give word on what they had seen. Gregor was unable to make out any thing that passed between the men but the rest of the night passed uneventfully until Gregor succumbed to exhaustion in th egrey light of the early morning.
After a few moments Gregor began to take stock of the scene that was unfolding around him. His captors were breaking camp at a rapid pace. The last man from the Contubernium lay unconscious in a bloody heap by the fire. His arms had been bound behind his back and he had been rolled onto his side. Blood was freely flowing down his nose, and the men that walked around him gathering gear simply stepped over him, as they did the other bodies, without paying any attention.
The rode through the night, making their way deeper into Moss-Head forest cautiously. Gregor and the unconscious prisoner were gagged and bound onto the backs of two separate horses. The large horses amazed Gregor with their night vision and their ability to quietly pick their way through the trees. Gregor found the excitement and fear of the night coursing rapidly through his veins and was unable to sleep.
He watched the men calling out to each other using a flurry of hand signals and occasionally speaking in low whispers when they had slowed for rests. They would slow for these rests when the scouts would return to give word on what they had seen. Gregor was unable to make out any thing that passed between the men but the rest of the night passed uneventfully until Gregor succumbed to exhaustion in th egrey light of the early morning.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
062
Gregor fell to his knees and slumped over with his hands in the air. Exhausted from the effort and yet still shaking with fear. The man stood in front of Gregor and watched him for a moment. Gregor looked up and him and saw the wet blood on his sword.
The man with the tattoos placed the skull mask on his head, but kept it pushed back so that his face remained visible. He was breathing heavy and looked at Gregor with eyes that were still filled with the battle. The smile on his lips verged on madness and showed a glint of his white teeth.
He raised his sword into the air with his left hand and raised his right hand into the air, palm up. The man gestured at the scene that was finishing behind him, and the bodies that lay around the camp. He raised his eyebrows, and Gregor was unsure whether his gesture was a statement or a question about what had happened. The man walked closer to Gregor and looked Gregor in the eyes. Both men stayed motionless for a time, and then Gregor began to shake his head.
"I don't know who these men are. I was not responsible for this. My men, my lictor's all fell, as far, as far as I know. I did not see, you, you would know more then I did. Baran's balls please, I know nothing."
The man with the tattoos tilted his head to the side at Gregor's pleading. For a moment the absurd fact that this murderous looking man resembled a confused dog wormed its way pas the fear into Gregor's mind.
"Baran." The man barked. Gregor's eyes widened.
"Baran?" Gregor asked.
"Baran!" The tattooed man shouted and thumped his chest with his right hand.
The man with the tattoos placed the skull mask on his head, but kept it pushed back so that his face remained visible. He was breathing heavy and looked at Gregor with eyes that were still filled with the battle. The smile on his lips verged on madness and showed a glint of his white teeth.
He raised his sword into the air with his left hand and raised his right hand into the air, palm up. The man gestured at the scene that was finishing behind him, and the bodies that lay around the camp. He raised his eyebrows, and Gregor was unsure whether his gesture was a statement or a question about what had happened. The man walked closer to Gregor and looked Gregor in the eyes. Both men stayed motionless for a time, and then Gregor began to shake his head.
"I don't know who these men are. I was not responsible for this. My men, my lictor's all fell, as far, as far as I know. I did not see, you, you would know more then I did. Baran's balls please, I know nothing."
The man with the tattoos tilted his head to the side at Gregor's pleading. For a moment the absurd fact that this murderous looking man resembled a confused dog wormed its way pas the fear into Gregor's mind.
"Baran." The man barked. Gregor's eyes widened.
"Baran?" Gregor asked.
"Baran!" The tattooed man shouted and thumped his chest with his right hand.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
061
Before Gregor's eyes the Contubernium melted against the pressure of his captors. Their skill was as amazing as their formations were strange. The did not fight in a strict formation as the Electorate fighters did, instead they fought as one except in a vauge pattern. Gregor could discern unity in the skull-clad men, though they fought as one their purpose was as a whole.
The numbers were now in the favour of Gregor's captors. In a moment they would double the Contubernium. Gregor awoke suddenly as if from a deep sleep and began to pull as hard as he could on the robe that bound his hands. Any hope he had of rescue was dieing before his eyes. He pulled his rope towards the tree fighting the weight of the horses who seemed to sense the same things Gregor did, and were calming down. Once again becoming mere witnesses to the slaughter.
Gregor was able to loop his part of the rope over a branch and began to saw with all his might. He glanced back at the battle. There were three of the Conturbernium left standing. They were trying to make their way back out of the fray but there was little hope to that. The skulled men had them surrounded fully now and were slowly closing in, not taking their time but using precision. One more of the Conturbernium fell. Gregor pulled at the rope as hard as hi could in frustration hoping to see signs of fraying. He was sweating and already feeling tired, the last week had been a lot for a man using to sitting behind a desk.
Now there was only one member of the Conturbernium left standing. Gregor watched the style of his captors change, the began to keep a wider berth from the lone man, who was now swinging his sword in desperately wide loops. He was screaming words that Gregor could not make out, eye wild with fear and rage. He spun around and around trying to keep a watch on his own back. The man was engaged for a moment with one of the skulled ones, fighting sword to sword. Then a man jumped from the crown, and tackled the lone swordsman to the ground. They fell in a heap and the sword flew from the hand of the last of the Conturbernium. Gregor's captors were no longer trying to kill the man, instead they were trying to capture him. Gregor stopped sawing at his bonds as he saw the tattooed man walking towards him with a smile, his skull mask in one hand an his sword in the other.
The numbers were now in the favour of Gregor's captors. In a moment they would double the Contubernium. Gregor awoke suddenly as if from a deep sleep and began to pull as hard as he could on the robe that bound his hands. Any hope he had of rescue was dieing before his eyes. He pulled his rope towards the tree fighting the weight of the horses who seemed to sense the same things Gregor did, and were calming down. Once again becoming mere witnesses to the slaughter.
Gregor was able to loop his part of the rope over a branch and began to saw with all his might. He glanced back at the battle. There were three of the Conturbernium left standing. They were trying to make their way back out of the fray but there was little hope to that. The skulled men had them surrounded fully now and were slowly closing in, not taking their time but using precision. One more of the Conturbernium fell. Gregor pulled at the rope as hard as hi could in frustration hoping to see signs of fraying. He was sweating and already feeling tired, the last week had been a lot for a man using to sitting behind a desk.
Now there was only one member of the Conturbernium left standing. Gregor watched the style of his captors change, the began to keep a wider berth from the lone man, who was now swinging his sword in desperately wide loops. He was screaming words that Gregor could not make out, eye wild with fear and rage. He spun around and around trying to keep a watch on his own back. The man was engaged for a moment with one of the skulled ones, fighting sword to sword. Then a man jumped from the crown, and tackled the lone swordsman to the ground. They fell in a heap and the sword flew from the hand of the last of the Conturbernium. Gregor's captors were no longer trying to kill the man, instead they were trying to capture him. Gregor stopped sawing at his bonds as he saw the tattooed man walking towards him with a smile, his skull mask in one hand an his sword in the other.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
060
Their movements, their horses, their clothes, and the way they looked at the forest told Gregor that wherever they were from was very different from Moss-Head forest. They were skilled at what they did though, their camps were clean and they had not trouble finding food.
The man with the tattoos came back holding a plate of roasted tubers and what appeared to be boiled leaves of some sort. He said something and placed the plate on the forest floor in front of Gregor. The large horses sniffed at the air and turned as if to examine the food. The man laughed and barked a command to the animals whom obeyed and went back to ignoring Gregor.
Gregor nodded to the tattooed man trying to convey his thanks. The man shrugged his shoulders and walked back to the camp. Gregor knelt on close to the plate and awkwardly lowered down to eat the food. He rested his elbows on the ground and brought the food to his mouth using both hands. He was no longer concerned with cleanliness or embarrassment and ate as best he could.
When he was finished he sat back on the ground and tied to wipe any food the remained from his face. While he had been eating the man with the tattoos had returned and placed a metal cup of water beside him. He reached for the cup now and drank it in three large gulps.
A strange bird's call broke the low hum of the forest sounds. It was a call the Gregor had never heard before. Immediately he saw the men spring into action. The strange bird called out four more times in quick succession. The men circled the with with heir weapons out and their skull masks on, watching the forest.
A call went up and men ran into the clearing, knowing that their ambush had failed. As they ran towards the men in the skull masks arrows flew from the trees overhead taking many of the men down. Gregor moved as close to a nearby tree as his tied hands allowed him. He pulled on the rope trying to get any slack from the horse picket line but the horses were beginning to get agitated. They were war horses and Gregor knew that they longed to be off the picket and in the fray with their masters. With a jerk of his ropes Gregor was pulled forward. He lost footing and fell to the earth, his arms being pulled in the air above him.
"Circle them! Get closer! Mind the archers in the trees above!"
Gregor pulled himself to his feet and struggled to remain standing. He looked at the battled and watched in amazement. It was a Contubernium unit of the Electorate army. Not many men but at one time they would have doubled the Gregor's captor, now after the failed ambush the numbers were equalling. The men in the skulls were ferocious and attacked in a manor that obviously surprised their would-be ambushers.
The man with the tattoos came back holding a plate of roasted tubers and what appeared to be boiled leaves of some sort. He said something and placed the plate on the forest floor in front of Gregor. The large horses sniffed at the air and turned as if to examine the food. The man laughed and barked a command to the animals whom obeyed and went back to ignoring Gregor.
Gregor nodded to the tattooed man trying to convey his thanks. The man shrugged his shoulders and walked back to the camp. Gregor knelt on close to the plate and awkwardly lowered down to eat the food. He rested his elbows on the ground and brought the food to his mouth using both hands. He was no longer concerned with cleanliness or embarrassment and ate as best he could.
When he was finished he sat back on the ground and tied to wipe any food the remained from his face. While he had been eating the man with the tattoos had returned and placed a metal cup of water beside him. He reached for the cup now and drank it in three large gulps.
A strange bird's call broke the low hum of the forest sounds. It was a call the Gregor had never heard before. Immediately he saw the men spring into action. The strange bird called out four more times in quick succession. The men circled the with with heir weapons out and their skull masks on, watching the forest.
A call went up and men ran into the clearing, knowing that their ambush had failed. As they ran towards the men in the skull masks arrows flew from the trees overhead taking many of the men down. Gregor moved as close to a nearby tree as his tied hands allowed him. He pulled on the rope trying to get any slack from the horse picket line but the horses were beginning to get agitated. They were war horses and Gregor knew that they longed to be off the picket and in the fray with their masters. With a jerk of his ropes Gregor was pulled forward. He lost footing and fell to the earth, his arms being pulled in the air above him.
"Circle them! Get closer! Mind the archers in the trees above!"
Gregor pulled himself to his feet and struggled to remain standing. He looked at the battled and watched in amazement. It was a Contubernium unit of the Electorate army. Not many men but at one time they would have doubled the Gregor's captor, now after the failed ambush the numbers were equalling. The men in the skulls were ferocious and attacked in a manor that obviously surprised their would-be ambushers.
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