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  Chapter XVI

  Polyphemous

  Arrows streamed passed them, through the gaps in the broken walls and over their heads into the trees above them; their swords drawn, and crouching low they waited, their heavy breathing suggested that the presumed expectant inevitable charge was not that far off. The clamour outside grew as their enemy mockingly called out to them.

  “If anyone’s got any idea what to do next now’s the time to speak up,” said Adamous.

  “I think death seems on the cards,” replied Marius.

  “If anyone else can come up with a better idea other than dying, I would like to hear it,” shouted Germanicus.

  More arrows were fired overhead and there was more shouting, but this time the hollering and howling were different; outside their confines was a clash of weapons. Adamous carefully lifted his head above the walls. The sight he saw made him gasp; it was the Avars they must have been tracking their pursuers and while their eye had been turned had come at them unseen; their horses darted in and out between their foes as they tried to cut them down. In the confusion and tumult amongst the clashing swords, some of the Franks and Wraith who had dismounted took to their horses so as to be better able to meet the threat. Garm pounced on one of the Avars, dragging him from his mount and slashing him across the face, before ripping his throat out. A Wraith took a spear and pierced a horse with it, sending the rider flying to the floor, where a Frank who stood taller than any man’s steed crushed him beneath his mace. One Wraith was flung around, punctured by so many arrows that when he fell to the ground he resembled a sea urchin.

  Merit on hearing the clamour crawled over to Adamous; she watched the battle unfold with grim satisfaction; “we need to get away while we can.”

  “If you have any suggestions I’m listening,” said Adamous, unable to take his eyes from the scene in front of him.

  “Look behind us we can grab the branches of those trees and make our escape over the wall. They’re too preoccupied to notice our escape and by the time they do, we’ll be long gone.”

  He glanced back, she was right what would have been food for the archers before, was now their salvation, “Quick everyone over the wall,” cried Adamous.

  They did not need a second invitation; in no time at all; the entire troop had scrambled over and was running into the forest for cover. The clash of sword became more remote as they raced deeper into the dense thicket. The forest seemed to cling to them like a wet cloth; and once they were at a safe distance, to calm their unease, Merit took out her amulet and lit their path.

  “So where to?” asked Merit, bringing them back to the moment, “We can’t just wander aimlessly.”

  “I know these woods,” replied the Monk. “There once was a road that led to Thessaloniki through here; but that was before it turned into brigand country, now it’s filled with villains and wayfarers, we’ll be lucky to get out alive.”

  “Well, if you’d like to go back and fight both Garm and the Avars that’s fine with me, but I’m going on,” said Merit.

  “We should open a portal to Perperikon; the fact that we've been found means the reason for us not to use the Seal no longer exists,” said Germanicus.

  “I still don't think there's enough power to get us all out, and besides, where do you suggest we place it, there is no crag or wall here, and a tree won’t suffice, with the amount of energy needed, it would probably destroy it?” replied Adamous. “The only walls we’ve found are the ones we left behind, and I don’t suppose anyone wants to go back there in a hurry.”

  “I meant at the earliest convenience of course.”

  “In the meantime let’s get moving, you never know what might be round the next corner,” said Merit.

  They moved slowly, dwarfed by formidable trees that rose above them and were lost in the heavens. Any low branches struck out at any unwitting passer-by, worse than all this was the silence: it was as deep and as impenetrable as the Forest, and lingered heavily in the air. Soft light began to filter through the swaying branches and trees, to spread ghostly shadows at their feet; the morning was upon them with at least the promise of a better day than the one before.

  The Monk who knew the forest looked high and low for any familiar sign that could lead them to a recognisable path, but it was easy to be deceived wooded bough or shrunken brush. Merit drifted out front, often Adamous would catch her, cocking her head to one side as if listening, before moving off.

  “What is it you can hear?”

  “The trees are whispering to one another, someone approaches or rather some people approach, prepare yourself and tell the others also,” Merit let the light of her amulet fade and soon the gloom of the forest surrounded them.

  “What, so you can understand the trees now? That’s an ancient language indeed,” Adamous turned and whispered to Germanicus who withdrew to Marius and Callistus, and soon their entire troop was guardedly watching the cover of the wooded crop.

  It was not long before Merit’s suspicions were proved right; soon enough up ahead in a small clearing stood a tall figure in a weathered grey cloak, which was frayed at its bottom. He leant on a long staff, his face was not visible though he was clearly studying them, and across his back was a bow thick and sturdy. His boots were muddied and his breeches were the colour of bark. Merit on seeing him reached beneath her tunic. Adamous gestured for her not to reveal her power; her secrets would prove more potent, the greater the surprise they carried with them.

  “How can we help friend,” cried Germanicus, his eyes searching the timbered column for spying eyes.

  “Perhaps it is I who can help you; no need to look about I am alone,” said the man, he had a keen voice and deliberate air about him.

  “I would like to take your word for it but we hear that these forests are infested with all types of vermin and villainy, no offence intended”

  “No that’s fine; so what type of vermin are you; no offence intended.”

  Adamous held his hand aloft and everyone stopped, he then stepped forward, “We’re the good type. My name is Adamous, this is Germanicus, and we are from Constantinople.”

  “Constantine’s city, you’re a bit far from home. Adamous, I’ve heard of you, I thought you’d be taller and older.”

  “I am neither but still you have not mentioned who you are friend. If friend you be?”

  “First I have a question, why are you here? We had heard a rumour that some had escaped from Thebes, that they were from Constantinople but with them went a powerful healer, a sorcerous no less.”

  “Really, and how could you possibly know that?”

  “Some of the guards at the palace are not friends of the Franks or their allies, and maybe persuaded, at an affordable price to let us know the goings on there.”

  “Still, you have not told us your name?” asked Adamous.

  “I am Polyphemous.”

  “You’re Polyphemous; the Polyphemous.”

  “I don’t know about, the; but yes.”

  “We thought you more, different.”

  “Ah; you mean the legends my people weave about my house; I am the twenty fifth family member to bear that name and it has been a useful tool that until recently would oft keep our little hamlet safe.”

  “Until recently; I take it then you’ve had problems.”

  “Hence my interest in your Sorcerous, it takes a Witch I’m told, to stop a Witch.”

  Germanicus looked around at his companions; some appeared taken aback by the mention of a Witch. Adamous rubbed his chiselled chin in thought.

  "I knew it," said the Monk.

  Merit unperturbed glared at the Monk and stepped forward, she may have been slight but there was a confident powerful manner to her. "I am no witch, nor am I frightened of those that say they are."

  “Now wait just a minute, we don’t know what we’re facing here,” said Adamous, putting his hand across to bar her passage.

  “It’s the Moira,” replied Polyphemous.

 
“The fates are here, well that figures,” said Germanicus.

  “That’s not one Witch, that’s three. Did you try to reason with them; to find out what they are really after?” responded Adamous.

  “Who’s quibbling about how many there are, and yes we tried to talk to them; the conversation must have been very short, our emissaries returned headless.”

  “That certainly would indicate you have a problem. I’m curious why do you think they've come now and why here, could they be in league with Charon?”

  “I thought that, but no, apparently they are connected to someone who is mightier still, or so the message said that was pinned to one of the ambassadors when he was returned to us. I believe we were to find you, and in particular your Sorcerous and give account of your whereabouts but not to engage you.”

  “Really and when you found us, what then; you pick up the reward.”

  “I wouldn't quite put it like that; they said they wouldn’t kill everyone in the village, in the most horrible way any of us could think of. If that is our reward its one I’m not partial to, as you can imagine threats like that don’t sit easy with me, I think it more likely, that if we do give you up, then they would kill us all anyway; and since they want you so badly, it occurred to me that you may threaten them or have something that threatens them, and so with your help, I thought we might stand a fighting chance against them.”

  Germanicus felt uneasy, there was something terribly wrong but he could not fathom it, “Merit do you know why they are looking for you?”

  Merit shrugged, there was some defiant fire to her eyes.

  Adamous merely smiled, “I wouldn’t expect her to tell us, she has been rather vague more than once up to now.”

  “That’s unfair: I told you exactly who I am.”

  “Yes, you’re an Alchemist or Physician, from Alexandria, who was on her way to the Merovingian.”

  “Exactly!”

  “You were captured by Saracens, who are being used by the Rageon and the Wraith and they are in league with Charon who has sided with the Merovingian, and I did notice that you were unsurprised when the Merovingian and Charon appeared to know each other, which makes me think that you know a lot more than you're letting on, and that there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

  “There’s more to everyone than meets the eye, don’t you think,” Merit spoke through gritted teeth, she found something familiar about such tacit accusations, and she did not like the tone of them.

  Adamous did not lift his piercing gaze, “Maybe that’s so, the question is; and I really don’t like to repeat myself, do you know the Moira?”

  “I certainly know of them so perhaps they merely know of me, in Alexandria I am after all a renowned alchemist.”

  The entire troop fell quiet; a stillness descended and but for their shallow breathing all that could be heard was the forest.

  Polyphemous merely shook his head, “Look, the Moira are obviously no friends of yours, and you appear lost, which means you’ll need help to get out of the forest. We can therefore help each other and as the Moira are after you, for whatever reason: that makes us allies. So the question is, do you wish to face them alone or are we all willing to trust each other, so that we can survive this.”

  “Trust out of necessity, it’s the only trust anyone can be sure of,” said Germanicus.

  “Well you can trust me,” cried Gallus.

  “And me to,” shouted Marius.

  “Me three,” yelled Firminus.

  “Not me though, I don’t even really trust myself, especially where food and drinks concerned, sorry,” replied Callistus.

  “That’s Callistus for you, always thinking with his stomach. He’s the only one I know who, when we attacked an enemy camp was found in one of their tents eating and drinking while the fight went on all around. And you know what he said when we burst in on him. ‘The wine’s good’. And what was more remarkable, was that he’d killed the entire elite guard and their General just to get to the food.”

  There were echoes of laughter except for Callistus who seemed quite hurt by the story. He sheepishly looked around at everyone; “The wine was good though.”

  “Anyway,” said Firminus, “you can certainly trust him in this regard.”

  A breeze suddenly got up and brushed Polyphemous, he looked up and above the trees he could see dark tumultuous clouds looming; “That’s good enough for me, I’ll take you to our settlement we should leave this place, there are too many eyes that are not of the friendly kind that might see us.”

  “Well Merit?” said Adamous.

  “I can deal with the Moira, you have no fear of that, and it’s your infernal deliberations that are going to be the end of me, nothing else.”

  At that Polyphemous turned and strode away first at a walk then at a run. The others keeping pace behind, chased after him; the forest instantly came to life at their passing. Trees whispered to one another, a badger appeared from a bush watched them pass, not really knowing what to make of the unusual troop, then disappeared down its den, that lay between the roots of a rather large calloused tree. An Owls hoot could be heard echoing through the wood. They travelled through the forest only stopping for a rest once, first to shake the grit out of worn boots, and then to take in some food stuffs that Polyphemous had gathered; he was eager to get them somewhere safe before darkness enveloped them. He knew anywhere close by would leave them vulnerable to any predator that might take a fancy to fresh sweet man meat. And he was going to have to guide them near to the edge of Red Hunding Kingdom. Which was the realm of the merciless cave hyenas that would have enjoyed nothing more than to drag away to their doom a man child or two; they were much larger than their African cousins and were often mistaken for Wolves though they were far more dangerous and cunning. Their spotted discoloured reddish hides afforded them the perfect camouflage; in fact you could step close to them without realising they were there. And they often lay in wait to ambush any unsuspecting visitor to their domain. Until the arrival of the Witches the Hundings had willingly kept to their territory, but now they wanted to be masters of the entire forest.

  Polyphemous followed what he knew were well trod paths to his home; he had taken his companions deep into the forest and was fast approaching the outlying lands of what had been his greatest foe, when a terrible dread fell upon him. His movements slowed, he knew that part of the forest as the Dead Wood; the trees in appearance had altered they were more misshapen and had been clawed at and marked in a strange language. When he came to a halt; Adamous and Germanicus sensed something was wrong, as did Merit, instinctively their hands fell to the hilts of their swords, while Merit drew from beneath her tunic her amulet.

  Adamous moved alongside Polyphemous, his eyes searching the sudden veil that seemed to blanket the trees, “So where are we, I take it this is a part of the forest that doesn’t like to be intruded upon.”

  Polyphemous nodded, silently he gestured for everyone to crouch down. He was sure they were being watched, but then again those trees always left him feeling uneasy; there was something about them, their age perhaps, they came from a time before man, when mighty beasts walked abroad.

  “We are near to the region of Shuck the Cleaver. From here on it is important that we make as little sound as possible.”

  “Who is this Shuck, is he a rogue of sorts.”

  “Of sorts,” muttered Polyphemous, “We must move with great care. The Dead Wood is not to be trifled with; if we are fortunate, we shall pass by its edge unseen.”

  To the group the trees became spectres: dark and hard was their bark as if made of stone, but also they seemed very much alive, some were hunched with curved spines: that gave them a certain grotesque aspect, they were scythe like in appearance and seemed made as if ready to reap their victims a terrifying ordeal.

  “Something bad happened here,” whispered Germanicus.

  "You don't say," said Callistus warily.

  “Many years ago in a time when Pagan G
ods walked these lands; this was a proud beautiful place but it has passed into shadow, it is said in the war with the Titans it was smote with a cataclysmic brand that laid waste to all that was precious, now what grows has an evil feature to it. Shuck the Cleaver now reigns over this land and he is welcome to it.”

  “He sounds quite fearsome,” said Adamous.

  “He is the worst beast you will ever encounter and should be resigned to myth, unfortunately he is very real; him and his clan of the Hundings.”

  “Beast, what sort of beast?” asked Marius.

  “They are a pack of large vile Dogs, in size they can be that of a large wild boar though some grow to be as big as a horse.”

  “You mean like Shuck,” said Germanicus.

  “Yes, like Shuck.”

  The troop fell quiet, once more eyes fearfully scanned the trees, but there appeared nothing untoward. The Forest had fallen silent almost as if it were sleeping, but they knew that beneath the cover of those trees was an ever vigilant, ever watchful gaze, that did not rest. Fortunately they were only at its outer rim and as they raced close to its border, darkness fell and it was at that point that they turned away and moved into farer more pleasant surrounds. With relief Polyphemous led them to an area where they could sleep. And finally when they reached a part of the forest he felt more content with, and he recognised a feature that held a more familiar and secure surround, he climbed up one of the trees to reach what was a small platform and lowered a vine for the others to follow him, he then kept ascending and went from platform to platform; each wooden dais was cradled within a palisade and set there, the way a birds nest would be; there was a small hatch to one side that could be lifted back, and when shut could be locked by a wooden lever being pushed into place, preventing access. From beneath if looking up, the ‘nests’ remained hidden from view; each platform took a small number of the troop.

  Once he was sure everyone was safe Polyphemous found Adamous, “We can rest tonight, the Hundings cannot climb trees and the bears do not venture too near to their domain. Tomorrow we shall be at my home.”

  They laid out what food stuffs and water they had and ate there fill before settling down. After, there was a collective silence as each member lay back deep in their own thoughts. The stars drifted between overhanging branches. The call of wild Geese could be heard overhead; drifting woodland cries shallowly disturbed their rest, as slowly quietly each member slipped in and out of consciousness.

  Adamous could not seem to get comfortable, Merit who was close too, reached out and took him by the arm to try to steady him.

  “Will you please stop moving, I’m uncomfortable enough perched up here without having the fear of being pushed off.”

  “Sorry Merit; I’ll try to relax, it's just I sense something’s wrong and I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “So do I,” replied Germanicus, sitting up on his elbows opposite to them.

  Merit shot up immediately, she had learnt to trust their intuition, it had shown itself to even match hers. “Where’s Polyphemous? The hatch has been pulled back.”

  They all sat up at that point, no one had noticed him slip away while they had dozed.

  There was a sudden ruckus below, it sounded deceptively close and yet looking out, they could see nothing. Adamous was about to jump through the hatch when he was pulled back by Merit; as they peered down Merit gestured for him to quiet and pointed into the gloom; Adamous looked closely, his sharp eyes picking up some movement; he gestured hurriedly for everyone to get back and after drew his sword, they all held their breath, as a dark shadow scaled the vine.