*
The search dragged onward, several hours passing without avail. The trails picked up at the entrance to the cave had been lost in the bed of a stream, dashing Gunther’s hopes for an immediate discovery of the two wayward outlanders. It was still daylight, and, judging by the sun’s position, a reasonable portion of the day yet remained, a boon for which Gunther was highly grateful.
The two outlanders were not skilled in wilderness craft. Even if they shared Gunther’s skills, the region of the forest that they had ventured into carried a variety of potent dangers. As it was, at best, they were bumbling about in wild, perilous territory, with a number of denizens that represented lethal threats.
Just as his rising frustrations began to sink their tendrils even deeper into his psyche, one of the male Jaghuns started to bark excitedly. It was circling a small patch of ground, within the midst of a grassy clearing.
Gunther jogged over to where the Jaghun was trotting with its nose at ground level. “What is it, Fang?”
Lowering himself down to one knee, he leaned over, and examined the ground carefully. The Jaghun pressed its nose into the earth, sniffing and whining. Where the nose touched, Gunther beheld the faint outline of a footprint. Looking closely, he discovered a companion to it, and then a second set. They were human tracks, of the size that would most likely belong to the young male.
Whistling, Gunther summoned the rest of the Jaghuns to him, as well as Lee and Lynn. Fang and the other Jaghuns moved a little further off from the spot, pacing in a direct line leading to the edge of the clearing. Fang’s companions also began to bark energetically.
They had found a trail again.
“Find them,” Gunther urged the formidable trackers, with a sweeping gesture that they had come to know long ago.
The gathering of Jaghuns wasted no time, loping along the pathway that Fang had uncovered, as they set off into the trees to find the two errant humans.
“I just hope that those two fools are still safe,” Gunther muttered acidly, as Lynn and Lee caught up with him.
Lee rolled his eyes, as he nodded back to Gunther, a look of exasperation on his face. Lynn’s own expression was not far removed from Lee’s.
Lee, Lynn, Gunther, and all of the Jaghuns had been put at terrible risk, and not just from the unforeseen dangers of forested wildlands. The further they moved away from the underground city of the Unguhur, the more vulnerable they became if an enemy force should come across them.
Gunther had a chance to fight off any beast of the forest, but he could not drive off an entire host of warriors. He only hoped that he could maintain his composure, once they found Ryan and Erin, as his blood boiled with the realization of how reckless the two foreigners were.
“Thinking about wringing their necks?” Lynn asked Gunther, to which he nodded his head sharply in the affirmative. She then added curtly, “Same here.”
“Add me to your number,” Lee offered.
The three continued on in a hardened silence, keeping their attention focused upon the progress of the Jaghuns moving just ahead from them. Another hour passed in that manner, as they crossed a vast expanse of ground.
The scenery changed little. Similar types of trees and foliage populated the area around them, and the land maintained its low-rolling contours. A few creeks, one of which was broad enough to make crossing it a slight challenge, cut through the forest floor, and intersected the trail.
None of the waterways impeded their headway, or obstructed the tracking. Once they had crossed the larger stream, the Jaghuns were quickly able to pick up the trail on the opposite bank, and resume the pursuit.
Gunther remained close to Lee and Lynn, who were dropping behind gradually as fatigue began to slow their stride, until the Jaghuns were finally out of sight in front of them. He had wanted to remain within visual range of the Jaghuns, but was loathe to leave the sides of the two remaining otherworlders.
Having two of the foreigners missing was bad enough; to have all four of them out of his sphere of supervision would be intolerable. Both to their credit, and Gunther’s relief, the two with him endured, and did not complain in the least, moving forward with a stoic determination.
Periodically, Gunther uttered sharp calls, which were answered by the unseen Jaghuns ahead in curt barks. The few exchanges helped Gunther to maintain his orientation, whenever he was in the slightest doubt of their direction. As the light of day started to shift, beginning its gradual descent towards the depths of night, a sudden commotion arose among the Jaghuns.
Gunther knew his Jaghuns exceedingly well, and he quickly recognized that the tones of their frantic barks were laced with a hint of fear. In one motion, he lunged forward, setting off at a full run, drawing his sword out of its scabbard as he raced onward. Lynn and Lee broke into a run after him, though he rapidly increased the distance with his long, loping gait.
As Gunther approached the area where the Jaghuns were located, he heard a frenzied yapping and barking, sometimes breaking into something akin to a crazed human’s laughter. The surreal sound nearly paralyzed him in his tracks, for he knew very well what sort of creature made such distinctive, blood-curdling noises.
It was perhaps one of the worst of possibilities that could be faced in the Saxan woodlands, an encounter with predators not altogether common. He whirled about to face Lynn and Lee, urgently raising his left hand to get them to stop.
“Stay back… it is Hyaeds! If you wish to live, you will stay here!” Gunther shouted harshly at them, his own eyes unable to hide the fear that gripped him with the recognition.
Gunther turned, and reevaluated his approach, sliding his sword back into the scabbard and taking his strung bow from his shoulder. He drew an arrow out from his quiver and jogged forward, just as the pained outcry of a Jaghun reached his ears. The agonized cry spurred him forward, to the point of recklessness, as the singular thought of coming to the aid of his beloved creatures consumed him. He had suffered too much loss already, and his emotional wounds were raw and bleeding.
A terrible sight met his eyes, as he burst into view of his Jaghuns. The image that greeted him would remain forever emblazoned in his mind’s eye. There was scant time to think; only the need to react.
Altogether, there were four Hyaeds. Often a solitary hunter, the presence of so many together presented an even worse dilemma to Gunther. He had encountered one of their fearsome kind nearly two years before, barely surviving the incident. He had fervently hoped never to cross the path of even one of the beasts again, much less the four that he was now compelled to confront.
The Hyaeds had extensive, powerful bodies, the largest being just over ten feet in length. Their bodies were carried upon lengthy, muscular legs, each ending in broad paws, the latter enhanced by a set of deadly claws. Each one of the creatures rose easily to more than four feet at the shoulder, the greatest of them being closer to five feet.
Gunther knew that he could not hope to run away, even if he had wanted to leave the two foolish otherworlders, and abandon them to the hands of fate and the All-Father. These were creatures capable of tremendous bursts of speed, running swiftly on their toes. He had long since passed beyond the range in which he could have sought to evade the beasts. He had no choice left but to fight, if he wanted even the slimmest chance to survive.
He eyed the monstrous predators with a cool, iron gaze, one that was a necessity in order to keep his composure and wits about him. His steady arms and hands raised the bow up, and drew the arrow smoothly back, ready to loose it in an instant.
Thick, powerful necks flowed from the Hyaeds’ chiseled shoulders directly into an extended muzzle. Their jaws were arrayed with an arsenal of glistening teeth, displayed vividly within their snarling visages.
Gunther knew that those jaws clamped down with awesome force, capable of crushing bone with ease. Their jaws were made even deadlier by the fact that they possessed more than one pair of sheering teeth, located a little farther back of their prominent canines. These additional sheering teeth were a unique marvel that Gunther had never seen on any other type of creature in his extensive travels. He knew very well what the sheering teeth were used for, and what they were capable of, in a creature with the power of a Hyaed.
The eyes of the Hyaeds were set a little forward on their elongated skulls, with large, spade-shaped ears set farther back, on either side of their heads.
They were not hyenas, nor wolves, nor lions, but to Gunther’s eyes had something reminiscent of each of those formidable carnivores. They were fearsome adversaries, against which even the strongest of his Jaghuns were no match in a direct conflict.
The circumstances of the overall situation began to become clearer, as Gunther assessed the quartet of Hyaeds more carefully. One large, older male and two younger male Hyaeds had been brought together by the fourth Hyaed; a female in the full bloom of the mating season of their kind.
Where a ferocious combat might otherwise have occurred between the males over her attentions, differences had been put aside at the inviting prospect of easy prey that had wandered so fortuitously into their territory.
The predators were clustered at the base of an oak tree. A quick glance upward betrayed the presence of two very terrified humans, a young man and woman huddled amid the highest branches that would support their weight.
Yet the attention of the Hyaeds was no longer focused on the trapped prey. A fight was already underway, creating the worst sight of the scene before him, as Gunther’s Jaghuns had already moved in to intervene.
Two of the Hyaeds, the two young adult males, had driven one of his Jaghuns to the ground. Working as a tandem, they snapped their powerful jaws down upon the hapless Jaghun, using their powerful bulk to pin their quarry down. The Jaghun cried out in terrible pain, struggling furiously against the overwhelming assault. One of the Hyaeds locked its jaws down upon the Jaghun’s neck, and a sickening, crunching sound could be heard, as the Jaghun’s struggles ceased, along with its life.
The sight enraged Gunther, pushing him to madness, as all sensibilities darted away from him in less than an instant. Bellowing out a thundering cry, he loosed his arrow at the one whose bite had snapped the Jaghun’s neck. Gunther then threw down his bow, drew his sword, and rushed furiously at the slayers of his Jaghun.
Both Hyaeds whirled away from the slain Jaghun to face the human interloper that so brazenly dared to attack them. The menacing creatures moved with a great swiftness, despite their considerable mass. They bared their teeth at Gunther, and their blazing eyes bored into him.
The burning pain from Gunther’s arrow, lodged deeply in its left shoulder, infuriated one of the Hyaeds. It caused the creature to turn its head to snap at the offending arrow, in the wake of the penetrating impact. The sliver of delay allowed Gunther the barest of opportunities, in which to strike at the other Hyaed, before being forced to engage both of them.
Gunther seized that opening without delay, slashing down desperately at the muscled hide covering the nearest creature’s right shoulder. The sharp sword sprayed open a long gash, out of which streamed a dark flow of blood. The creature howled in pain and madness, shifting back on its haunches, and swiping its great right paw at him.
Gunther jumped backwards, as the tips of the beast’s talons came within just inches of slashing him across the chest. Bringing his sword back around, he brought it crashing down on the creature’s thick neck. The blow was well-delivered, embedding deep into the creature’s flesh, and going almost half-way towards beheading it. The Hyaed abruptly toppled to the ground, as its spinal column was severed by a cold steel edge.
Gunther’s remaining Jaghuns, while he was delivering the killing blows to the one younger male, had moved in to snap at, and maneuver around, the other two Hyaeds.
The older male and the female stalked the Jaghuns in their own turn, feinting lunges from time to time, and continuing their chorus of unsettling, high-pitched cries. The Hyaeds were trying to position themselves for a prime moment, in which the chance presented itself to fall upon the harassing Jaghuns, whose exceptional quickness was all that kept them from being torn apart. The surreal cries were now intermingled with a horrific, highly unsettling sound, generated by the grinding of their teeth as they sought to intimidate Gunther’s Jaghuns.
The Hyaed with the arrow lodged in its shoulder recovered its control, bounding over the dead Jaghun, and past the fallen Hyaed. Gunther had to twist immediately on reflex, falling heavily to the ground as the beast sprang forward, flinging its bulk towards him.
Gunther fell flat against the earth, feeling a brush of air across his face, and hearing the incensed cry of the creature as it missed its prey. The Hyaed landed beyond him on its paws, and whirled about, baring its gleaming sharp teeth. Its snout wrinkled into a menacing snarl, as its eyes seared into Gunther with a storming rage.
Gunther rolled over and scrambled to his feet, spurred by the surety that he was much slower than the beast attacking him. With all of his might, he raised his sword up and brought it rushing down without delay, knowing that the creature was unbearably close.
The ensuing blow was more than he ever could have hoped for. It landed squarely on the head of the Hyaed, whose jaws were already stretched wide in anticipation of a crushing, killing bite.
The steel edge cleaved through the bone of the beast’s skull, burying itself into its brain and slaying the Hyaed instantly. The creature’s tongue lolled out over its still-glistening muster of blade-like teeth, as it collapsed heavily onto the ground. With a strong heave, Gunther pulled his sword free.
It had all happened within a whisk of time, yet the blood-chilling sense of danger had seemed to last forever. Regaining more of his wits in the midst of his battle rage, Gunther bounded over to retrieve his bow from where he had thrown it down. He still had a few arrows remaining in his quiver, and he risked a couple of moments to notch one.
Pulling back the arrow, he trained his sights on the last two Hyaeds, who were still being held at bay by the relentless harassment of his Jaghuns. The stalemate provided him with his choice of targets, and he hoped that the huge creatures continued to hesitate, and did not move to engage his remaining Jaghuns. Of the two Hyaeds, Gunther preferred to keep his concentration focused on the massive, older male, instead of the female.
Keeping his hand steady, it was as if he assimilated his entire being into an unbroken continuum with the bow, arrow shaft, iron tip, and intended target. Everything was an extension of himself, even the air between him and the Hyaed. As he had done a hundred upon a hundred times before, he loosed the arrow, with the kind of exceptional, sharply honed skill that made it appear as if he delivered the arrow’s point by hand to his desired target.
The shaft flashed across the clearing, and burrowed deep into the chest cavity of the large male. With its teeth still grinding, the beast slumped ponderously to the ground, as the fires were extinguished within its eyes.
Gunther dexterously switched back to his sword again, knowing that he was within just a couple strides’ reach of the last remaining Hyaed. There would be no chance to notch another arrow.
Instinct for preservation prevailed in the female. The creature was now faced with being outnumbered, having already witnessed the three formidable males silenced permanently, and severed from any possibility of courting her as a mate.
Backing up slowly, the female spun, and vaulted in the other direction. Her legs churned rapidly as she propelled herself into the depths of the forest. The Jaghuns darted forward in her wake, snapping the empty air where she had just been. They halted just beyond the base of the tree, canny enough not to give chase recklessly.
The area was now cast with an eerie silence, made even more disquieting by its suddenness. Gunther took a deep breath, and looked back towards the broken body of the fallen Jaghun.
The creature was a male named Arrow, who had always raced through the woodlands with the grace and directness of the object for which the creature had been named. Images of Arrow, vibrant, alive, and bounding through the foliage, as if nothing in all the world could hinder the creature, flooded Gunther’s shaken, grieving mind. The living kaleidoscope of memories contrasted starkly with the still, lifeless, and broken form sprawled on the ground before him.
Thoughts and emotions racing, as the weight of yet another terrible loss was heaped upon him, he gazed hotly up into the tree, to where Ryan and Erin were still crouched. His fiery look threatened to spark a conflagration in the wood of the tree.
He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, and all of his muscles tensed, as he visibly shook with the tremors generating from within. It appeared that he was readying to try and cleave through the trunk of the tree, in one blow. A fearsome madness danced in his eyes, as his psyche strained to corral the delirious impulses brought forth by extreme sorrow and fury.
“Get down… now!” Gunther thundered at them, his voice shaking with his surging anger. He left no room for any questions or debate, glaring at the tree-bound pair with a look that was dangerously close to murderous in its ferocity.
Meekly, and clearly frightened as they beheld his countenance, Ryan and Erin started climbing slowly down the branches. Gunther ripped his attention away from them, knowing that he was on the very brink of snapping, and trotted back over to the fallen Jaghun. Kneeling down, he hugged the body of the slain beast, a practice that was becoming all too common.
Unseen by the other humans, a couple of tears welled up and broke free. They crawled down his sweaty, blood-stained face, wetting the musky, blood-matted fur of Arrow’s body where the drops touched.
He offered up a fervent prayer to the All-Father for the soul of his Jaghun, defying some of the priests that he had heard, who claimed that only humans possessed souls. To Gunther, it was unfathomable how such loving, loyal creatures as his Jaghuns could have anything less than a soul. When his supplication was finished, Gunther quietly set about making a makeshift funeral pyre.
Gathering wood and stone, he had to pause for a moment, wiping his eyes as they leaked from the overflow of heart-rending emotions within him. His brooding, mournful silence pervaded the air with a great heaviness, one that was not disturbed by any that witnessed him, whether human or beast.
He gently laid the body of Arrow down upon the wood, and then brought flames to life within it. The flames spread steadily, and the body of the Jaghun was quickly consumed, the smoke rising above the trees and climbing towards the heavens.
In his own mind, Gunther imagined Arrow bounding once again, in a land where no harm would ever come to the creature. With a little effort, he could envision a forest where the very leaves glistened with the light of undying life, blinking back more tears as he was left behind in such a miserable world of decay and sadness.
At the very least, Arrow’s body would not be left to rot and decay, no matter what the Western Church felt about the old world’s funeral practices. Gunther’s body might one day lay in the ground, according to the Church’s teaching, but those of his Jaghuns would not.
In a way, he thought of the burning pyre as conveying Arrow’s body over into the next world, where it would exist forever, incorruptible. The light shining from that thought provided a singular, precious drop of comfort within the sprawling fires of his bereavement.
“Won’t that attract something?” Ryan tentatively asked, from where he stood a few feet away. The youth eyed the smoky tendrils swirling up into the sky.
Gunther slowly turned his head towards Ryan. The sight of the youth rekindled his ire, which swelled quickly. The woodsman’s body trembled, until his pent-up anger could be held back no longer.
Stomping over to Ryan, his right arm shot forward, and he threw the young man to the ground in an outburst of violent force. Ryan skidded, and his startled, fearful outcry could not finish passing his lips before his throat was seized in Gunther’s left hand.
“Do I care?” Gunther hissed at the young man, applying more force to his grip. Ryan squirmed and gagged, but was helpless against the overpowering force applied by the woodsman. “Would this have happened
… if it was not for you, and that other dimwit?”
Gunther spat the words out, each one feeling like hot bile in his mouth. There had been no good reason for his Jaghun to die. Arrow was filled with vitality, coming into the bloom of his prime. Gunther had raised the Jaghun since the day of his birth in the woodlands. Like the others, the creature had a unique, special personality that Gunther had come to know well.
The death was needless, inarguably avoidable, and had the two otherworlders had even the slightest bit of sense Arrow would still be alive down in the Unguhur Realm. Gunther had given of himself for the Saxans, and for the otherworlders, and he now found himself continuing to pay a price that was far too high for his liking.
Pulling his knife out in a blur of movement, he pressed the tip of it against Ryan’s exposed neck, just above the point where he was choking him. Ryan was wide-eyed, desperate and panicked, and his face was wracked with sheer terror. His staggered breaths were curt, as he peered back into the visage of a grief-crazed, enraged man. The youth blanched as he took in the look growing within the depths of Gunther’s eyes, trembling fearfully and whimpering. There was no doubt that the youth knew that his life was teetering in the balance.
“Please, Gunther… Ryan is foolish, and he is young… he did not intend any of this… please forgive him,” Lee interjected, pleading in a low voice, moving to within a couple of feet of Gunther’s right side.
Gunther did not so much as twitch, keeping his focus bearing down hotly on the foolish lad pinned on the ground before him. He pressed his knife in a little harder, pricking the youth’s skin, and holding it there for a long moment. A thin trickle of blood worked its way from the knife’s bite, meandering in rivulets down the left side of Ryan’s neck.
“A life for a life, yes?” Gunther growled dangerously. “Is that not what the old writings say?”
“Please Gunther… don’t do this!” Lynn begged Gunther, from his other side, raw passion saturating her words. “They are stupid, not evil. Please don’t kill him, I beg you.”
Erin made no move to draw any closer to Gunther, or to attract his attention. She watched his fearsome reaction to Ryan from a distance, with pure, wide-eyed horror splayed across her face.
After pressing the metal point to the very edge of penetrating deeper into the flesh of Ryan’s neck, Gunther swiftly withdrew the blade, and replaced it in the sheath at his side. Without another word, he released Ryan, stood up, and whistled to his Jaghuns. He did not spare a single glance or word to the four otherworlders.
The Jaghuns regrouped around their caretaker, emitting whining sounds that carried a distinctive, forlorn quality. The saddened master and beasts strode off in the direction from which they had come, heading back towards the cave entrance leading to the Unguhur Realm.
Gunther did not pause to see whether the four otherworlders followed him, and at the moment he hardly cared. Grief had overwhelmed him, almost to the point of changing him irrevocably. That shook him more than anything else, as he began to realize what he had nearly done.
He knew that a momentous, inner struggle loomed, one that would determine whether or not he could keep the foundations of his spirit from crumbling.
*