The woodsman’s chest heaved with a long, slow intake of breath. “You see, to get to those far eastern lands, you would have to journey through Theonia. An empire forged of the natures of both east and west. I called Theonia home for some time, though that time is many years past. Theonia. A land I most want to return to… and a land I least want to find myself in. Creates quite a problem for me, if ever I wanted to try and go to the far east, does it not?”
A deep sadness clung to the slight, bittersweet grin that came to his face, and his voice had suddenly seemed laden with a heaviness of heart. He drew into himself further, for a few moments becoming much more distant.
Whatever the woodsman’s past contained, it was clear that Gunther still carried an open emotional wound in regards to Theonia, something that Lee quietly took to heart as he looked upon the man’s weighty, pained expression.
Gunther then looked over towards Lee, as he slowly came out of the momentary trance. His voice lightened a little. “What is done is done, but I still am fascinated with thoughts of the far east. It is hard not to be. I have heard it spoken that the lands in the far east are rich and bountiful lands… filled with a proud and wise people, with spectacular, huge cities teeming with all kinds of splendor. All manner of different and amazing creatures are said to live within those lands as well.”
Gunther paused as he continued to gaze upon Lee, as if making some sort of appraisal.
“From what few of those people that I have seen, it would seem that they are indeed akin to yourself… the hue of your skin, the angle of your eyes. I know little else of their mysterious realms, only what is said, and that is often several times removed from the few adventurers and merchants that have made the great journey on the Rising Sun Road.”
“All of it sounds fascinating,” Lee said, highly intrigued to hear of the open comparison to himself in regard to the eastern lands.
“And I have only told you of some of the lands that exist within Ave… There is the great island of the Northern Elves, the strange lands of Yanith, with its towering forests, the green bounty that is Gael, the lands to the north of Kiruva, where some titanic creatures dwell, and many, many other amazing places,” Gunther responded, with an air of reminiscence. “Ave is filled with strange and incredible sights, and a great many lands, whose call pulled me as a youth from my own homeland. Lots of absolutely enthralling places, many that I have seen, and many that I have not.”
“Lotsss offf placesss… verrry niccce… verrrry niccceee…” Ryan murmured with a dazed expression, a significant slurring to his speech.
The mead was now exhibiting a potent, highly visible effect. Ryan wavered back and forth, his eyes fluttering, before his head nodded down heavily with a noticeable thud on the trestle table. He just missed plopping his face into his largely emptied bowl of porridge, by just a few mere inches.
“I think he has had enough mead for now,” Lee quipped, unable to stop a grin from forming. The image of Ryan’s stupefied expression was emblazoned on his mind, pushing out some open laughter even though he was a little nervous as to how Gunther would react to the display.
“I believe that we are all in agreement… even him, as I do not think he will argue,” Gunther commented, looking at the youth with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “One must learn to hold their drink well!”
As if to emphasize the difference between the veteran and the youth, Gunther imbibed an extended swill of the mead, emptying his nearly full cup. Some traces of foam held onto his beard as he set the cup down. He casually reached over, grabbed the clay pitcher, and filled it up again.
“Anyone else?” Gunther queried, indicating the pitcher towards the other three remaining conscious guests.
For the first time that Lee had seen, a ray of pure, joyous mirth emerged through the smile that spread on Gunther’s face. The big woodsman rumbled with laughter and shook his head, regarding the facedown form of Ryan.
Erin and Lynn laughed heartily, though both indicated that they had taken enough mead for one night, as did Lee. The laughter finally subsided, though it had felt so pleasant, and had relieved a great amount of anxiety in seconds.
Lee smiled as he looked back to Gunther, his inquisitiveness again coming to the fore. “And you’ve traveled all over many of these lands? That is just amazing.”
“A vastness of oceans and lands,” Gunther remarked, before adding with a tint of sadness that Lee almost felt guilty for inadvertently evoking, “though I have seen quite enough of it all, and do not have any desire to explore it any further.”
The group finished their meal, sharing only a few idle bits of conversation before they finally begged leave of Gunther. The woodsman offered to help with Ryan, though Lee politely declined, as he felt that they had imposed quite enough on the man’s hospitality.
Lynn aided Lee as he worked to get their intoxicated friend to his feet, to help Ryan up the stairs so that he could lie down. Ryan groaned as he was jostled, but roused himself enough so that he was not an entirely dead weight.
As Lee reached the base of the stairs, he glanced back to where Gunther was still sitting.
The trance-like look had returned to the man’s face, crossed with flickering light and shadow from the hearth fire. The woodsman had retreated inside of himself again, descending to some safe and distant refuge that he had fashioned within his mind.
Lee had a thousand questions that he wanted to ask, but one look at the man dissipated any urgency that he felt. He wondered what paths their host had taken in his life, and what far travels he had undergone. Gunther carried the weariness of tragedy and dreams abandoned, still resounding with the echoes of trauma, as well as the sobered countenance of experience.
He knew that there was much more to the solitary woodsman before his eyes, but his interests would have to wait until a time of Gunther’s own choosing.
Section VII
DRAGOL
The smaller, second invasion force, comprised mainly of Avanoran warriors, had finally reached the outskirts of the borders of the province of Wessachia, in the northwest of Saxany.
The long column had come to a halt near the headwaters of the substantial Grenzen River, which emerged into its fullness near to the base of the forested hills leading up to the northern Hymaht Mountains.
The Avanorans had distanced themselves many leagues from the massive army marching towards the Plains of Athelney, but their purpose was no less important. The region and the specific site that they approached had been skillfully chosen, and carefully deliberated. It was the northernmost area along the western borderlands of Saxany that they could seek to pierce without unduly exposing themselves to great vulnerability.
A corridor of sorts existed towards the east, ferreted out by diligent Avanoran scouts, through which they could launch a penetrating strike deeper into Saxan lands.
Tents were assembled in a broad encampment that was located close to that of the Trogen sky force and the Andamoorans. Commander, mess, and chapel tents were placed near to the center of the encampment, with the tents of the higher-ranking knights surrounding those, and the dwellings of the common soldiery and camp attendants radiating further outwards.
Banners signifying the various nobles and officers in charge of the army flew from high poles positioned near to the entrance flaps of their tents.
While the Avanorans were situating the encampment, a constant cover of sky patrols had been provided under the orders of the Trogen chieftain, Tragan. Regular waves of Trogens upon Harraks returned and departed from the smaller encampment, keeping a constant set of eyes high in the air to watch over the laboring Avanoran army.