Just outside of them in an even line was a file of spearmen with tall, rectangular shields. Mail-coated, with iron half-helms, they formed a living screen for the crossbowmen to their left.
The orderly lines of spearmen and crossbowmen warily eyed the forest’s edge, compelling Logan to not move a muscle lest the cascade of eyes sweeping along the edge of the trees take notice of him.
Out from the flank closest to the outskirts of the forest were intermittent formations of mounted warriors. Logan could not help but think that many of the riders in these periodic bands were knights.
The particular riders catching Logan’s eyes exhibited an unrivaled splendor that was set well apart from all others in the column, whether on foot, or with them on horse. Logan found his eyes roving from one impressive form to another, each one a grand sight in and of themselves.
Several individuals displayed matching colors between their sleeveless, knee-length surcoats, triangular shield facings, and the draping bards adorning their war stallions. Luxuriant blues, vibrant reds, bright yellows, deep greens, and other lush hues formed the bases of their rich trappings.
Some of these warriors had additional designs displayed on their outer surcoats, shields, and bards. Stylized lions clawed viciously at unseen adversaries, while great birds of prey spread their beaks apart, loosing piercing battle cries. Dragons opened their mighty jaws wide, as if about to loose torrents of scorching flame. Wolves bared their knife-like fangs menacingly, caught in mid-bound as they raced across some invisible terrain.
On other shields, surcoats, and caparisons, the displays were simpler. Straight bars, chevrons, and other geometric elements were set in various arrangements against the solid hues of their backgrounds.
The stately riders, like those of less prominent appearance accompanying them, had their heads turned towards the forest. The expressions of many knights were hidden behind the iron visors of cylindrical half-helms, or encompassed within full great helms, flat-topped and barrel-round.
After watching the procession of warriors for quite some time, Logan’s eyes were drawn towards an exceptionally sizeable banner pulled forth by a large team of burly oxen. The great banner undulated in the robust breezes from the top of a high mast, exhibiting a prominent sigil upon its surface.
It was of a golden fleur-de-lis. Set against a deep blue background, the proud image of the fleur-de-lis was striking to behold.
The stout wagon trundled onward, carrying the banner along with it to the north, and the river of warriors continued to flow by for what seemed to be an interminable length of time to Logan. Without needing to count, he knew with surety that several thousand men had already passed by their position. He longed to stretch his tightening limbs, doing his utmost to block out of his mind any physical discomforts that arose in the extended duration.
Lying on his belly in a prone position was fortuitous in that he was not in a more contorted pose that might have quickly become unbearable to maintain. He was even able to prop his head up on the back of his arms, though he did so very slowly and cautiously.
He had no other choice available other than to wait with his equally silent companions, continuing their prolonged vigil at the edge of the forest. Even modest movements were very likely to be seen by the more diligent elements of the marching force. It was nerve-wracking enough worrying about discovery, even being as rigidly still as he was.
Just as Logan grew acclimated to the sight of the marching formation and his nerves had settled a little more, another unexpected, and breathtaking, element manifested. The hairs immediately stood out on the nape of his neck as the first of many utterly strange, fearsome-looking creatures started appearing shortly beyond the mid-way juncture of the huge force’s passage.
Even farther out towards the forest from the core of the dense marching column, pacing lithely along the ground, were what looked to be a type of massive, dark-furred cat. The great beasts were noticeably larger than an adult male lion, which was the closest animal that Logan could relate the burly felines to. There were several of the stunning beasts in the first wave to come into view, stepping with feline grace and brimming with powerful muscularity.
The powerful cats’ broad heads turned from side to side, their ears twitching separately and reactively, in sharp alertness to every sound. An extensive, wicked-looking set of frontal canines was visible, fully exposed and descending to sharp points just below their great jaws. The veritable daggers gave the creatures an appearance acutely reminiscent of the prehistoric sabretooths whose images Logan had often pored over with fascination as a child.
Proud of posture, the impressive creatures were restrained by long, thick leather cords, attached to iron-studded collars fitted around their ample necks. The leashes were held at the opposite ends in the firm grips of handlers of a very unusual appearance, who jogged effortlessly behind the steady gait of the cats.
The handlers were as fascinating as the great sabretoothed cats, and Logan stared at them in wonder and disbelief. They were of the same race as the small contingent of warriors that came up close behind the first group of great cats. There were around a hundred of the peculiar, bi-pedal creatures in all, including both the handlers and the armed company.
Their appearance was like that of a large rodent that could walk upright, like a human. Their height was many inches shorter than that of average human adults, the taller ones among them being only about five feet tall. A coat of coarse, dark fur fully covered bodies that were lean and sinewy, with long, narrow limbs.
The extraordinary creatures walked with a discernable spring to their every step, evidencing a natural supremacy of agility in relation to their nearby human companions.
The rodent-like creatures, or rat-men, were clad in what looked to be close-fitting, dark tunics that ended just below their midsections, tied above their hips with narrow hide belts. Their clothing was otherwise scanty, as they wore no type of footwear or other significant pieces of attire. A few hints of smaller adornments, largely in the form of snug-fitting neck rings, could be seen amongst them.
Most of the rat-men carried thin javelins, which they rested in small clusters upon their shoulders as they trotted forward. Others had short quivers affixed to their belts, with strung bows scaled to their more diminutive size that were carried over their shoulders. Simple leather sheaths affixed to their belts held what looked to be lengthy daggers, or perhaps short swords.
Their high-pitched, chittering voices carried faintly across the air to Logan and the others, as the larger company of rat-men passed by their hiding spot, following in the wake of their cat-handling brethren.
While the huge cats and the rat-beings were shocking enough in appearance, it was the presence of a third variety of inhuman creature whose emergence brought Logan’s breath to a momentary standstill. He almost had to remind himself to allow air into his lungs, as awed as he was by the newest sight in the column.
Logan could barely believe his own senses, as a group of monstrosities lumbered up into plain sight from the far end of the column. Though few in number, the gigantic brutes would easily have sufficed to serve as a rear guard all by themselves.
Like the rat-men, they were also marching a little farther out to the side of the humans. The enormous creatures trod by the men rapidly, taking huge strides up the flank of the main column. Horses whinnied and snorted in agitation, and many of the men cast fearful glances in the direction of the daunting entities.
The collective presence of the striding juggernauts was awesome to behold, and Logan could not imagine anything that could offer a challenge to such mighty beings. Towering over the tallest of the men, including those mounted upon great steeds, the behemoth creatures moved on powerfully muscled, thick legs that looked to be as stout as tree trunks.