Prometheus' First Steps, Page 3

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  Something touched Ovidius' big toe. Quick as lightning the lanky Dog Soldier pulled his legs up and backed out of the pup tent, his poniard drawn. Scouts slept in their soft leather armor, unlike the other Legionnaires. After assessing the situation in a heartbeat, Ovidius sheathed the dagger and stood at attention.

  "How did a Dog Soldier so tall ever become a Scout?" The Officer stood at the foot of Ovidius' pup tent, arrayed in shining plate and mail, his full helm held on his hip while his other hand wiped at a sweating brow. Men smelled of sweat in the heat, it was an unpleasant odor. Ovidius could not place the Man, but he wore the garb of a Lieutenant in the Legion.

  Ovidius was passive. He knew a rhetorical question when he heard one.

  "The quiet type eh? Corporal Paolo tells me you played the bait for your own conceived trap. You did not learn this tactic in training."

  Ovidius said nothing. He watched the gray eyed Man with complete passivity. Judged from the coloration of the sky, perhaps Ovidius had dozed for a few hours. This nameless Lieutenant was dark haired, clean shaven like all Imperial officers, but whip thin with broad shoulders for a Man. This seemed no pampered nobleman's son, unused to physical exercise, but an athlete who had trained since a child to become a soldier.

  The Officer looked up at the sky and grimaced. "It never seems to cease raining in this jungle." The Man arched an eyebrow at Ovidius' passive stance. "Come along then Scout, I've a task for you."

  Ovidius fell in line behind the Officer after gathering his gear from the tent. The Man led the Dog Soldier into the jungle canopy. The pair marched along a game trail for fifty minutes of silence before the Man found a curious blue-stone boulder carved with runes. Ovidius stood at attention warily eyeing the thick jungle growth, listening for threats of any kind. Multicolored birds of red, green and blue chattered above and the jungle's near constant groaning filled the background noise. The Man held a small leather bound book open and made notes with a stylus and a piece of sharpened graphite at the end, bending over the pages to shield it from the light but constant rain.

  "You don't speak much do you? Can you speak at all?" The Man regarded Ovidius evenly.

  Ovidius nodded affirmatively and kept his attention on potential incoming threats, listening attentively.

  "Say something then."

  "Something, Sir" Ovidius spoke with a deep growl, his attention still on their surroundings.

  "Sense of humor at least. At ease Soldier. Do you know what this is?" The Man gestured a naked hand at the boulder.

  Ovidius glanced again at the blue stone boulder covered with sigils, larger than himself and a third as wide as it was tall. "Marker of some sort I imagine. The rock is not native to this area, probably dragged here on purpose."

  "What do you think the reason might be?" The Man regarded the lanky Dog Soldier with curiosity.

  Ovidius thought about it for a moment. "Religious reasons most likely."

  "Why do you say that?"

  Ovidius looked around one last time before setting his gaze on the Officer. "No reason to drag that boulder through this jungle for leagues if it was simply a territorial marker. There's enough of these black boulders from the mountain's eruptions littering the landscape. No, this is something special to the maker. It took a lot of time to carve that deeply into the rock. This is a strange place for an art showing, so only a fanatic would go to all this trouble."

  The Man nodded in approval. "Sound reasoning. Which religion do you suppose left it?"

  "Pagan most like. No Church symbols I recognize." Ovidius kept his attention on their surroundings, intent on any shift in the jungle's background noise.

  The Officer crouched low, using a mirror to direct light onto the boulder's lower reaches and continued to write in the small book. The Officer copied symbols quietly with a sure hand. A Man's fingers were far more dexterous than a Dog Soldier's paw, adept at intricate tasks such as writing and drawing. Ovidius gripped his longspear and target shield while stifling a yawn.

  "Tired of playing bodyguard already?" The Officer straightened up and regarded the Dog Soldier with a cool eye.

  "Beg your pardon Sir, haven't slept much in the past three days."

  "And yet seem as sharp and observant as any among the Legion. Where did you train Scout?"

  Ovidius kept his attention on their surroundings, noting a pair of hairy primates a knee high scampering through the branches of a crabwood. There was a wave of silence encroaching on their position. Ovidius listened while talking. "Blackrock Tower sir, near Pithia."

  "General Tarkun runs that Kennel, correct?"

  "Affirmative Sir."

  "And what kind of Man is Tarkun, in your eyes?"

  "Honorable, just, fair, strict... everything a Dog Soldier could want in a Kennel Master." Yes, it was coming now, stalking them upon all fours, its tail lashing in anticipation. Ovidius slowly turned, holding the longspear in the middle to shorten its reach.

  The Lieutenant continued speaking. "That hardly seems an honest answer, but what should I expect from a Dog Soldier? We've trained you all too well not to deviate from the sure path. Tarkun lost his previous command of the 81st and accepted a lateral move running a second tier Kennel."

  Ovidius heard the stalker pause in its approach. It was to the left, behind a large stand of ferns. He slowly turned his knees and sandaled feet into a fighting stance, bending the knees loosely, ready at the slightest hint of movement. The light changed as unseen clouds above the canopy moved, the rain letting up for the momentary break.

  The Officer stopped his chatter, and simply waited. "Well, are you waiting for it to spring upon us or should we attempt to scare the poor creature away?" The Officer unclasped a long curved sword from his belt, as well as a parrying dagger.

  "I was going to let it decide. Panther most likely, native to these parts. When did you notice its approach?"

  "Only when you pivoted. I've always envied Dogmen their keen senses. It seems impossible to sneak up on one unless asleep." The Officer crouched lower to the ground, ready to spring.

  Ovidius and the Officer waited, straining to hear the stalker behind the stand of ferns. Everything was still in the jungle, the golden light of the sun turned green as it passed through the forest canopy, motes of dust and pollen dancing in the air. For several long moments the pair waited for Death's Servant to decide a course of action. Ovidius initiated a low growl, deep in his voice, something primal and territorial, both challenge and warning, never ceasing for the full minute.

  The Stalker crept away slowly at first, then bounded through the underbrush. Ovidius and the Officer saw the sleek black feline form as it paused on the ridge, regarding the pair with emerald eyes. On its face was a silver patch of fur just above the eyes in the rough shape of a skull. The great cat roared once, then it slipped beyond view. Ovidius let his growl subside.

  The Officer breathed out warily. "Didn't even know I was holding my breath."

  "Strange. I could smell its breath, sweet as honey cakes." Ovidius bore a thoughtful look on his face that the Officer found even more intriguing.

  "That is strange." The Officer agreed. "But then again, I don't have your nose, and would rather not be close enough to notice the oddity."

  Ovidius turned to the young officer, nodding to the rune inscribed boulder. "Do you know any of that script?" Ovidius kept his senses on alert as the jungle sounds slowly returned as animals and insects returned to their daily routines. The Panther was somewhere to the southeast. He could hear it crashing through the underbrush.

  The Officer smiled, showing straight white teeth as he changed the subject. "It is similar to menhir found in the North, but the sigils are different. I can guess at some of it. For instance, this symbol here at the top is exactly the same as others I have found in the wilderness near Somerset, which I interpret as an announcement, or warning. But this rune, next to it, is some sort of proper name. My best guess is something to the effect of Morgan or Morrigan. It is
close to the symbol of the ancient Heathen deity Morgana, but definitely distinct from it. For instance, here is the sigil for Wolf, and this is Woman... so maybe Wolf-Woman."

  "Morgana?" It was not a name known to Ovidius.

  "Her title is 'Queen of Cats' if that helps. Among the Heathens, they believed she was the mother of the Catiin race. There are cults in the East centered in Ishtar on the very precept, and so no Catiin is made a slave for none would shame Morgana so."

  "Seems to contradict the Church." Ovidius observed dryly. The jungle had returned to some sense of normalcy, but Dog Soldiers always maintained a minimal level of alertness akin to a Man on Patrol.

  "I did say the Heathens believed that story." The Officer replied with an arched eyebrow of bemusement. "Still, this is a new land and different Heathen gods should not be a wonder. The Heathens treated their gods like we might a feudal lord, with separate fiefs and territories. Hence the menhir."

  "Maybe we were too close to the border then? If that Panther was a subject of this Queen of Cats, what sort of subjects might a Wolf-Woman claim?" Ovidius grinned at the Officer.

  "Not a Dogman of Faith then I take it?"

  Ovidius spit to the side before taking a drag on his water skin. "The story of the Three Races seems to favor Man too much for my liking. If a monotheistic Goddess creates three races and favors one over the others, why should I worship a nepotistic tyrant? Better to worship nothing than systematic injustice."

  The Officer laughed. "A philosopher-soldier then."

  Ovidius grunted as he restrung the water-skin to his belt.

  The Officer returned to studying the menhir, clearing away lichen and vines from the base. It was several hours until the pair wearily returned to the camp, where cook fires and vastly different culinary fare awaited each.