Gunther then turned his attentions to the four other humans, and curtly instructed them all to take advantage of the hiatus by taking a nap. The weather was holding clear, and there was no immediate necessity for finding or fashioning any form of shelter.
In moments, Lee and the others had each found a place upon the hard earth. All were soon slumbering under the watchful eyes of the woodsman, as well as those of his inhuman companions.
Dawn gradually spread its burgeoning glow and settled down over the forest, though not before Gunther had already roused his tired wards. In the cool dampness of the pre-dawn, the somber woodsman consumed some pieces of hard bread and dried meat with Lee, Lynn, and Ryan. A perplexed look crossed Gunther’s face when the morning’s rations were divvied up, as Erin rejected the meat and took only the bread.
Gunther tensed, as if about to make some sort of remark, but then just shook his head and ate his own meager fare in silence.
Lee quickly saw that Gunther’s severe mood from the previous evening had changed very little. The woodsman only spoke to them when he needed to give information or issue a directive.
The group was soon on its way again, just as the first piercing rays of sunlight heralded the newborn day, driving the shadows back about the thick tree growth and lower brush. Gunther had informed them just prior to their outset that they were only about half a day’s march out from his homestead.
They had not traveled all that far when the group came to a sudden halt, as the faint sounds of a horn reached their ears. Gunther froze in mid-step. When the horn blast was repeated again, Gunther made a whistling sound.
Seemingly out of nowhere, one of the Jaghuns reappeared amongst the party. It trotted immediately up to Gunther, its tail wagging vigorously. Gunther calmly looked down at the creature, staring into its eyes.
“Bring Saxan,” he said firmly.
The creature lurched into motion, and raced off through the woods. Its speeding form was gone from sight in seconds.
Gunther turned back to the others.
Lee did not know what to make of the strange interaction. In the interim, he had gripped the hilt of the sword that he was carrying very tightly. It was the right reflex for one holding to a natural caution, though he sensed no alarm in Gunther.
“The tone of that horn is nothing to fear. It is the warriors of Saxany that sound those horns. They are fighting the ones that assailed you yesterday,” Gunther explained. “I know them well enough that my trust is well-placed in them. That unique horn note is their signal for me. Perhaps they have come to warn us of danger. My Jaghun will bring their messenger to us. We do not have to wait for them here. We can find a more suitable place to rest, and to await them.”
Without further delay, Gunther started off across the forest floor once again. Lee and the others exchanged several glances, a number of questions coming to Lee’s own mind. The curiosities remained unspoken as the four hurried to catch back up with Gunther, and resume the trek.
AYENWATHA
After consuming a light morning meal, consisting of a wooden bowl containing corn meal mush sweetened with a little maple tree sap, a handful of spring berries, and some ample swigs of cool water, Ayenwatha walked about the outer vicinity of his clan’s longhouse.
It was well past the time to round up his new guests for a river excursion. The bright morning felt fresh and invigorating, despite the gathering storms of war on the horizon. Ayenwatha savored the moments at hand, looking forward to learning more about the foreigners and gliding down the sun-graced waterways of the Five Realms.
Three of the foreigners were lounging about inside the structure, talking together within their designated compartment. When Ayenwatha had entered the chamber to summon them, the young man named Antonio was laughing boisterously at some jest of the one called Kent. The latter, Ayenwatha could already sense, was very given to humor, and the war sachem found himself taking an early liking to the spirited man.
The last member of the trio was Mershad, who was politely listening to them nearby. He was definitely a quiet one, and a little harder to read.
The blue-eyed male with the medium length brown hair, named Janus, was found strolling idly about the grounds of the village. Ayenwatha grinned as he saw Janus being trailed at a distance by a few curious children.
The dark-haired, solemn one named Logan was discovered sitting by himself on the shaded side of the longhouse, with his back resting against the elm bark paneling.
The dark-skinned man called Derek and the tall female named Erika were found together in another part of the village. They had been speaking with a couple of the village warriors, standing close to the modest garden plot for ceremonial tobacco lying adjacent to the great longhouse where the Sacred Fire of the Five Realms was kept and tended.
The warriors were showing the guests their curved war clubs, and as Erika watched over his shoulder, Derek fingered one of the weapons with an unmistakable look of admiration. The sight was no surprise to Ayenwatha, as Derek carried the distinctive air of a warrior.
Once Ayenwatha had all seven of the foreigners gathered together, he walked at their head towards the village entrance. Several of the village warriors were already assembled and waiting there.
They joined the stalwart war sachem and the foreigners, as he led them all forth from the village. The party passed through the village’s narrow front entrance and headed down the slope of the great hill. A light spread of fog was slowly wafting through the trees below, and a vibrant chill yet lingered in the morning air.
Though the additional warriors took pains not to discomfort the foreigners, there was no denying the warriors’ escort function. They were all there at Ayenwatha’s behest. The seasoned war sachem was not about to discard reasonable precautions, even if he still sensed no threats present in the otherworlders.
Ayenwatha glanced towards the seven foreigners, and saw that most of them looked quite alert, well-rested for the day’s coming foray.
Two of the three that had remained inside the longhouse were still showing signs of being a little drowsy. Antonio and Kent yawned periodically, and stretched out stiffened shoulder and arm muscles as they headed down the hillside. Yet they already walked with a limber step, and it was clear that they were simply shedding the last vestiges of a long sleep’s grogginess.
Once they had reached the base of the village’s hill, Ayenwatha led the party forward through the trees. They soon passed through the primary areas used for the village’s cultivation, in which a number of women had just gotten underway in tending to their day’s work tasks.
Ayenwatha watched them idly as his group continued on past the crops. Two of the women had been dear friends to his own beloved wife. They had helped to bring his daughter into the world, one of the most precious, wonderful days in all his life.
The beautiful memories swiftly brought sharp pangs of pain and regret that he quickly pushed back down, before they could evolve into cavernous sorrows. Those shining days were past, and could never be regained. He lived with an abiding hope in the beneficence of the One Spirit, but the only thing that now mattered was what lay right ahead of him.
Laboring with their hoes made of wood and bone, the diligent women paid the group little attention as they passed by. They were far more concerned with the needs of the Three Sisters, the maize, beans, and squash that were so utterly vital to the village and tribe’s well-being.
The party left the fields behind and continued onward until they finally arrived at the Winding Stream. Too broad to jump, and moderate in depth, the substantial waterway displayed a robustly flowing current between its banks.
A few of the warriors with Ayenwatha broke away and headed off into the undergrowth. They shortly pulled a number of canoes out from where their elongated forms had been obscured by the dense foliage growing adjacent to the stream’s near bank. The light, narrow vessels of stitched bark were subsequently dragged down the bank, and maneuvered to the edge of the water.