His parting words carried back to them.
“Wear my gifts about your necks. They will bring you understanding. You will need them, if you wish to gain answers faster.”
Snapping fully out of the trance-like state, Logan regained mastery over the rest of his senses. He watched with amazement until the old man was out of sight, bewildered by the whole encounter.
“Hey, I wonder how much this would go for. Have to get a jewelry shop to price this one out when we get back,” Kent quipped.
His jesting words broke the awkward silence weighing heavy in the air, as Kent casually looped his pendant around his neck. Grinning wide, Kent added, “So, do I look like a good model for this? Gotta be worth a little money… I’m sure of it.”
“But it won’t be worth much if we get caught around here,” Logan stated.
A darker expression rose upon his face as he looked off in the direction where the old man had headed in. His mind filled again with vivid images of the enormous army, most especially the massive saber-toothed cats, the rat-men, and the burly monstrosities with their huge, wicked-looking axes.
“Are we all losing our minds? Why trust him?” Logan questioned the others. “Why trust anyone? What do we really know? But I think we do need to get a move on things here.”
Derek’s expression was very austere, as he looked over to Janus and Kent. “That was definitely the old man we saw yesterday… did he say anything else to you when we were gone?”
Janus nodded. “No doubt, it was the same man. He had appeared to us right before the four of you returned. I have no idea why he has such an interest in us, but he appears to be trying to help. He doesn’t seem to be dangerous, and if he was, wouldn’t he have done something yesterday, or just now?”
Derek shrugged, “Don’t ask me. Nothing makes sense anymore.”
“We should get going,” Logan interjected. “Medieval army or strange old man, I’m not about to trust anything or anyone. Derek’s right. Nothing makes sense.”
“I sure can’t make much sense out of what that man said. I wish I had asked him some more questions. It was like my mind grew sluggish, and I couldn’t think of much to say,” Erika said, accurately describing the sensation that Logan had felt throughout the encounter. “It was all I could do to just to ask him who he was. Like I had to force the words out of my mouth.”
She fingered her necklace for a moment, gazing down at the deep blue gemstone. Her glance prompted Logan to turn his attention to his own.
It appeared to be safe enough, a simple pendant of metal and gemstone. With a shrug, Logan finally slipped it on around his own neck. Looking back up, Logan was about to make another comment, when he saw the forest come alive all around them.
Seemingly out of nowhere, to their sides, to the front, and to the back of them, a large number of lithely moving figures emerged right from the trees and shadows themselves. All of them were armed, bearing various types of weapons, and their attentions were resolutely fixed upon Logan and his companions.
In appearance and attire, they were nothing like the ones that Logan had recently witnessed, comprising the huge column marching out on the plains. If anything, they immediately reminded him of the native peoples of his own country.
The weapons were poised for use, bringing a clenching feeling to Logan’s gut as the air swarmed with tension.
A good number of the warriors surrounding them held curving, wooden clubs of war. The gracefully cut, slender arching shafts ended in dense, rounded balls of solid wood. Some of the shafts were carved to resemble serpents or other animals, whose open jaws cradled the orbs of wood at their ends. On others, the facing of the spherical ends had been carved into the visage of a human face.
A few of the warriors had feather-fletched arrows notched on bows, which were partially drawn back and trained directly upon their targets; Logan and his six companions. Logan took uneasy account of more than one sharp iron arrowhead pointed coldly and impassively at his own body. The feeling was deeply unsettling, like nothing that he had ever experienced before.
Still other warriors bore axes with hafts of modest length, weapons clearly designed to be wielded with one arm. The hafts were fitted at their ends with small, single-edged blades of iron that had a slender horizontal profile. The axe blades gleamed dangerously as they reflected the sunlight breaking through the leaves of the trees above them.
Short bone-handled knives were suspended down the center of many of the figures’ chests, encased within sheaths graced with intricate quill-work and fringes of metal-banded tassels lining the openings.
The warriors themselves were very simply garbed. Though some wore longer hide tunics on their upper bodies, most were bare of chest. The latter were clad with some type of buckskin waist-skirt, not unlike a kilt, or a hide or woolen breechcloth that ran through their legs, looping up and over a waist belt. All wore hide leggings to the mid-thigh, and had moccasins covering their feet.
Their faces and exposed skin were covered in painted strips of red and black. Slightly obscured by the striping were a plethora of tattooed designs, some of recognizable animal or nature designs, and others geometric patterns.
The warriors did exhibit a considerable amount of ornamentation, as bands of quill-decorated hide, feathers, or small shell beads, wrapped around their upper arms or at the knees, were quite prevalent amongst them. Earrings and nose rings were in regular evidence, some of the former being substantial, looping designs made of shell. A few had their ears adorned with puffy, globular adornments of swan down.
There was a complete lack of facial hair on the men, and even their heads were largely shorn of hair. Most wore styles with thick tufts sprouting atop their heads, the centered tufts decorated with feathers or other smaller items.
Their facial features, on the average, were very angular in nature, with high-set cheekbones and prominent noses, lending many of them an almost hawk-like profile. Their dark eyes were piercing and humorless. Almost all had leaner, sinewy bodies, infused with a well-defined muscularity.
Logan and the others instinctively grouped together in a circle, facing outward with their backs to each other. He could not see any other clear options, as they were completely surrounded by the stern-looking warriors. It was certainly not in their interest to profess to fight.
“Stay where you are!” one of the nearest of the warriors commanded them in a hard, resolute tone.
Despite the black and red paint, and several tattoos, the warrior had a very handsome visage. He possessed a balanced symmetry to his wide, expressive eyes, full lips, and slightly broader nose, which complimented an ovular face. He was among the taller of the surrounding warriors, with a sculpted body that brought out his well-defined chest and bulging shoulder muscles.
He was every inch the image of strength and vitality, and definitely did not look like the kind of man that one would want to cross. Logan looked slowly to the others with him, seeing looks of utter confusion on the faces of some, and comprehension on the faces of others.
“Who are you? Why are you in these lands?” the figure then inquired, with manifest caution underlying his insistent manner.
“My name is Erika,” Erika then responded, “and we really don’t know where we are, why we are here, or even what is happening.”
Logan glanced towards his companions again.
The perplexity had seemed to increase on the faces of those who had looked the most confused when the warrior had initially spoken. They were eyeing Erika sharply, and Logan could see the questioning look in their gazes.
It was then that he took note that the ones wearing the pendants, like himself and Erika, looked to be the most comfortable. A distinct thought came to him, but he was not yet ready to try and test it. A throng of fierce-looking warriors of unknown intent, bristling with weapons, prompted him to severe caution. He did not want to make one comment or gesture that would be misconstrued to an unfavorable result. Nobody had to tell them that their lives were hanging in the balance.