Chapter 6

Captain Harwin Marshall was thoroughly miserable. He and his company had been marching through the Ancient Forest for almost a week and hadn’t seen any sign of the men which they pursued.

Approximately a week before, Harwin and his men had been stationed at a small crossing north of the Fork. From there they had been making quick striking raids into the western territories in hopes of clearing the area in time for the full-scale invasion. His company wasn’t a group of seasoned veterans but they had been involved in the siege of Qam and had participated in field operations with the main Paredes Army. Harwin was proud of his men and desired to prove their worth to the Great Lord.

That is why he had become so upset when a small group of Ancient Men had crossed the river and counter-attacked in the middle of the night. They had caught Harwin and his men completely by surprise and had managed to kill quite a few with their demonically accurate arrow fire. Before he was able to rally his men and attack, however, they had simply faded away into the night.

The Ancient Men were a strange people as far as Harwin was concerned. They were the descendants of the people of the Ancient States; city-states dating to before the Old Empire. They had remained half-savage and never managed to civilize themselves enough to form a coherent nation. Instead, some remained nomadic while others strived to survive from meager farms and domesticated animals. From Harwin’s point of view, they were a barbaric people that had only one thing in common: their ability to make war.

They were exceptionally skilled in the art of combat and it is theorized by historians that if they had ever united under one banner, they could have conquered the entire known world. Instead they chose to live in their mountains, forests, and plains and constantly irritate the Kyrithian kingdom, which attempted to treat them with respect. During the Great War, the Ancient Men had been easily the most skilled combatants on the field of battle and had managed to tip the scales in the favor of Men on multiple occasions. When the Old Empire had been formed, the Ancient States were welcomed into it as partners but were permitted to maintain individual control over their territories. It was probably the only thing that saved the people in the years to come.

When the Dragon Lords began to fight amongst themselves and the Wars of the Dragons decimated the lands, the Ancient States quickly reverted back to their old ways and made war as best they could. They were easily the least effected by the fighting and many of their permanent cities were left untouched. Since then, the Ancient States, as they have taken to calling themselves once more, have attempted to stay free and independent, refusing to join the Kyrithian Federation or listen to Paredes’ bids for consolidation. While the majority of the people in the Kyrithian province respected the Ancient Men, Aton Paredes had made it quite clear that he aimed to completely annihilate the people, in order to purge their “heathen religion” from the world.

Though Harwin considered them savages, he had to respect their prowess and admitted that he had no intention of fighting Ancient Men if he could help it. Unfortunately, the morning after the attack, he was ordered to take his company across the Watchguard in pursuit. His men’s blood was still pumping and they were all rather eager as they crossed the river and started marching northwest toward the Ancient Forest. In truth, they weren’t following the raiding party, for it was impossible to track due to its low numbers. Instead, Harwin had decided to find a village in the forest somewhere and put it to the torch in retaliation.

Unfortunately, the eagerness of his men didn’t hold as three straight days were spent with heavy rains falling upon them. Near the end of the third day, Harwin decided to make camp on the outskirts of the abandoned city of Eton. His men, being rather superstitious, had begged to continue on but Harwin was firm and so they had occupied two buildings they found which still had roofs.

Eton had been the shining capital of the Old Empire, easily the largest and most beautiful city in the entire known world. Crafted with the old magics of dragons and men, its strength and durability was unmatched. Over seven million people had called Eton their home during the height of the Old Empire’s reign. The rebellious Dragon Lords, however, brought terror down upon the city and the Wars of the Dragons marked its end. Millions died in the fires and fighting trapped within the city walls. Only a few thousand managed to escape down the Watchguard River, leaving everything they had behind. The city became a shell of its former self, broken yet retaining an eerie beauty even still. Some had attempted to resettle the city. But then the Gaileon returned.

During the Great War, the Gaileon had been the crack soldiers of the Gyr’ra. Supposedly, thousands of years ago the Gyr’ra had subjugated the Gaileon beasts to use in their wars. What the monsters lacked in numbers they more than made up for in their destructive capacity. They stood anywhere from six to seven feet tall and were generally similar to humans in build. Their arms hung down to their knees and were twice as thick as a man’s. They had no neck to speak of and their face was surprisingly flat, with no apparent nose, a thin line for a mouth and two large, solid red eyes. From its shoulders sprung giant wings, similar to those of bats and dragons, which they used for short flights. Their entire bodies were black as night, though they usually wore a tanned leather loincloth. While they generally used their fists and claws for fighting, they were known to carry three spears which they threw down on their enemies before landing to engage.

The Gaileon had been a terror upon the armies of Man and had even been a thorn in the side of the dragons because of their ability to fly. It wasn’t until the advent of the Dragon Lords that the Gaileon were able to be driven back into the mountains, where they had fled after the war. They were completely unseen throughout the entirety of the Old Empire, most likely because they feared the wrath of the Dragon Lords. However, when the Empire crumbled, the dragons died out and the Lords disappeared, they moved down out of the mountains once more. They came into Eton and lived amongst the ruins and the dead. A few armies attempted to capture the city from the monsters but they all vanished. Ever since then, all had made an effort to stay clear of the place. The Gaileon were rarely seen but constantly feared. That’s why there was little surprise when ten of Harwin’s men came up missing.

The men had been out on patrol during the night and had simply vanished, horse and all. Despite the fact that the men were friends, Harwin and the others didn’t take much time to look for them. Instead, they had quickly mounted up and moved off. They had been riding somewhat hard since then, wishing to fight the Ancient Men over the creatures that haunted Eton.

Harwin turned and look back at his men who were strung out along the narrow forest path behind him. The woods were dense and dark, which none of the men liked, and the path, which had originally been a wide highway, had slowly closed in and become little more than a glorified footpath. Harwin’s scouts were confident that the road widened again a few miles ahead, for which he was grateful. He didn’t like to show it, but he had a fear of close space and he wasn’t at all comfortable within the forest.

His men were tired and were quickly losing their drive to bring revenge upon the Ancient Men. Some had openly said that they were turning around if they didn’t find something soon. Harwin was also a little tense about the situation. It was odd that they hadn’t seen a single living soul since they had crossed the Watchguard a week before. They had seen the occasional village but they were always deserted and he didn’t see any point in burning empty houses.

He also bemoaned the small road they found themselves on. He had almost a hundred men on horseback. It was a powerful group if brought to bear in the open field. Riding two abreast through the woods, however, rendered them almost completely useless. He didn’t like their vulnerability and so had a higher than average number of scouts out around the main group.

A loud popping sound suddenly issued from the right flank and Harwin’s sword was in his hand in a flash. The other men reacted just as swiftly as they turned toward the noise. Harwin’s heart was beating rather quickly when a scout rode through the trees up toward him.

“Bolton, what was that?”

“It was nothing, sir. A tree struck by lightning during the storm a few days ago finally broke. I thought I should let you know before knights went riding through the woods after it.” He gave Harwin a toothy smile.

“Very well. Return to your post.” Bolton nodded and rode back into the trees, vanishing in the leaves. “Stand down, men. It was simply a falling tree.”

His men grumbled to one another and sheathed their blades, looking thoroughly relieved. Harwin held on to his, however, as he turned his horse and signaled for the company to continue forward.

About fifteen minutes later, Harwin glanced down to a small hourglass hanging from his saddle. As the last grains of sand trickled down, he looked about the woods. The scouts were due in to report. A few moments passed and none returned. His eyes narrowed and his heart began to flutter once more. He signaled back to his men and the all silently drew their blades. There was something there, Harwin was sure of it.

With barely a sound, small round balls began falling all through the company from the thick tree branches above. They were about the size of an apple and wrapped in a rough spun weave of hemp rope. A short rope stump stuck out from the top of each, silently smoldering away with surprising speed. Harwin screamed just as the wicks burnt down into the spheres.

A hundred miniature explosions ripped through the ranks, killing horses and men and scaring the rest. Small iron pellets tore through men and beast, soldiers were thrown from their horses and trampled but a few managed to stay mounted. Harwin was thrown from his horse to land face first in the dirt of the road. Rolling onto his back, he propped himself up and yelled to his men to come together.

More, smaller bangs sounded from the trees above and more men began to scream and die. Small holes opened up in men’s chests, backs, and helmets with blood pouring forth while more conventional arrows rained down, as well. A few men attempted to stand and fight but were quickly shot down. Harwin’s mind was reeling, trying to figure out how they had managed to get cannon into the trees as he stood and beheld the carnage that had fallen upon his men. Suddenly a man emerged from the nearby underbrush and walked confidently toward Harwin, casually stepping over the dead and dying bodies of Harwin’s men.

He was a tall man, bordering on seven feet. He had the darker, tanned skin of the Ancient Men, as well as long black hair bundled in a loose tail that ran down to the middle of his back. He wore a dark red leather vest adorned with beads, stones, and shells. It hung unbuttoned from his shoulders with nothing beneath. He wore rather baggy green cotton trousers with brown leather sandals laced up his legs. Around his neck hung a large necklace adorned with approximately a dozen bright red gems that clattered lightly as he walked. Over his right shoulder a sword hilt could be seen and in his hand he carried some strange device made from metal and wood. It reminded Harwin of cannon and suddenly he understood what had happened.

“A mess we have ‘ere, Cap’n. What’re you doin’ in the Ancient Forest, pray tell?”

Harwin stood for a moment trying to catch his breath. The man before him was obviously a man accustomed to battle and his clothes showed that he was daring, as well. No man wore so many adornments into battle unless he was rather confident in his abilities. Finally, Harwin got enough courage to speak.

“We were pursuing a group of Ancient Men who crossed the Watchguard and attacked our camp. Apparently you found us first.”

“Heh, aye. T’was a bloody good show in your camp, Cap’n. Your men were less prepared than a pig bein’ led off to slaughter. We didn’t want to have ta kill all of your men, though. You shouldn’t have come. This is Ancient land.”

The slaughter behind him and the insults against his men were too much for Harwin to take and he found himself becoming angry.

“You’re a butcher! We were military regulars engaging in regular military activities. You ambushed us and killed us with your cannon powder tricks. You have no grievance against us and yet-”

“No grievance? Do you remember a village called Vallidyr? T’was the home of o’er a thousand of my people. There’s isn’t a village called Vallidyr any longer, Cap’n. This is how we Ancient Men play our wars. This land will never belong to you easterners.”

“You say so now,” Harwin spit out. “But soon the full might of the glorious Paredes Army will come marching through your pathetic woods and you will beg for mercy. And your southern neighbors won’t be able to help you. We march toward the Kyrithian province even now. We will purge the land of you pagan heretics and unite the world once more.”

For a moment, the Ancient man didn’t move. Finally, he shook his head, causing beads to clack together, and looked into Harwin’s eyes. He then raised the barrel of the hand cannon and placed its end a few inches from Harwin’s face. Before he could even display his surprise, the Ancient man’s hand twitched and Harwin’s world went dark.