Anubis Anhekis was once the chief of palace guards of the Pharaoh Ahkmenhotep I; Anubis witnessed the rise of Thebes, as its dominion was stretched over the five cities, as far down as Axum, and Tynis to the West. From Thebes, Ahkmenhotep formed and ruled as the first god-king, the kingdom of Ægyps, which after several millennia of foreign corruption, came to be known to this world as the mystic land of Egypt, in the sands of Africa. When the fledgling kingdom faced an otherworldly threat to its existence, as did all life and civilizations on the Mediterranean, from the hordes of Nineveh and Assyris in the East, out of Mesopotamia, then the first Pharaoh sacrificed Anubis, the prince Osiris ( grandson of Ahkmenhotep I) and two others, to Ra, god of the line of Hotep Kings. Anubis, Xphenhotep, Dagon and Osiris, were chosen by Sethir, high-priest of Ra, for the sacrifice in the newly-built capital city of Memphis; they would be reborn as the Animaeus of Ægyps- the very first Theriantophalis (Animal-Men) to walk the face of Earth. Anubis was reborn as the Jackal, charged with the security and protection of the god-kings of Egypt- he retained his place in the Royal Palaces; Osiris was reborn as the Hawk, the totem-spirit of the House Hotep, and the prince was charged with the protection of the skies above the kingdom, to protect against or mitigate any threats from the heavens or the underworld; Dagon, reborn as the Nile River Crocodile, was charged with safe-guarding the life-giving waters of the Nile, that first, inner border of the kingdom; and Xphenhotep was reborn as the Lion, and he walked the wild places on the edges of the kingdom, protecting the outer borderlands of the lands of Egypt. So were born the first guardian demi-gods of Egypt, over 6 millennia ago.

SkollWodin Castle

(Inside Skollvurn Forest)

At the gate of the keep, Rollo saw for only the second time in his life, and within a fortnight of the first, soldiers in iron mail, standing watch at the great towering doors that were the main entrance to the fortress, embedded some 6 feet into a fortified tunnel way. The doors, great big wooden slabs that looked as if they could accommodate his entire villa back home if set down horizontally, were as thick as to have been made of wood from two trees in the composition of just one side. Each door, the one on his right which was standing closed, stood at least 20 feet tall, with large steel bosses, larger than Rollo’s head, riveted into the wood at intervals, making an overall pattern of a practical kind. On each side of the gaping passageway, at least another 20 feet across or just less, 3 guards stood, one before the other, up to the keep walls and they surveyed with stony faces all the traffic that poured in from the surrounding villas into SkollWodin. Rollo now began to feel self-conscious and a little insecure; he had never before been in such a throng of people and he generally rarely got to see so many people in one place, except at the allotted times for annual festivals- he was nervous. His Da sensed it and gave his arm a tight grip as a form of reassurance. Now they were being made to approach the gates two aside, with livestock one at a time, and the line of guests stretched back several meters, growing in a trickle as other families joined in from the several roads that led to and from SkollWodin fortress. Two families before it was their turn, the foremost guard at the open door, on their left-hand side, roared a general halt and all traffic paused as the news was relayed down the line of villagers by word of mouth. And from the bushes scattered here and there on the sides of the knoll upon which the fortress rose, sprung out a particularly brightly-colored red fox, about as big as a pregnant mother soar; it was definitely bigger than any other foxes Rollo had ever spied around the woods in their villa- his Da thought so too, cause he let out a low whistle as he eyed the fox incredulously. Many other families within sight of the creature, were uttering their gasps of awe or disbelief, when, from the donkey-pulled cart just before them on the line, came a loud whisper

“They’ll stop the entire line just to let a stupid fox in first?! Is the Keep housing wild beasts now too as well as savage warriors?” and the whisperer turned in their seat to smile mischievously back down the line; searching for accomplices no less. It was a stunning Nordic beauty that winked back at Rollo as she caught his eye; she seemed too fair to be from these parts, maybe a migrant from across the North Sea, from Scandinavia. Her hair was so yellow as to be almost white and her eyes were a grey color, like storm clouds. Her very fair complexion was stark against the blue woad cloak she wrapped around herself. Her smile was like the final burst of sunlight before the sun falls beyond the horizon and is gone for the night; Rollo could neither respond to her jest nor her friendly smile- he stared back, looking awestruck.

“Who knows maybe we’re eating big fox tonight” said Rowalder, and then he laughed his little mischievous laugh which Rollo had learnt by heart. As he spoke, he had tapped Rollo lightly on his knee, as Rollo was still riding the Oxen, to shake him out of his trance- the boy could only manage a sheepish, rather constipated smile in return.

“Will you shut it Hilda! You’re gonna get us in the stockades before we even properly arrive” chuckled a large grey-headed man, standing next to the donkey-cart. He turned and flashed them with a similarly bright smile to his daughter’s, with the same grey storm cloud eyes, set within lines of wrinkles.

“She doesn’t know when to shut up, this one” he gestured at Hilda on the cart. “But some fox meat will be appreciated, tis been sorely missed in these parts” and he tapped his belly at that, generating a more genuine laughter from Rollo and his Da, and pure hilarity from the girl Hilda, who almost rolled over in mirth. Finally, the guard roared for the line to continue on-ward and into the keep. As they passed the brief shadow in the gate tunnel and all went dark for a minute, Rollo could still see the bright hair of Hilda before them, and the dim light on the other side opened unto a modest courtyard, some 30 yards across, whose opposite end was dominated by the great Manor house itself, with battlements rising away into the night sky. Atop the great doors, embedded in stone like the entrance gates, swung a massive pennant, red in color with a black ring and a black, snarling wolf head within the ring. Finally they had reached SkollWodin; now for the first time in his life, Rollo would see his lord in the same hall.

***

North Sea Coast

(Northern Saxony… at the unknown ship)

Below decks, there was an unnatural silence; not even the customary creaks and groans of a vessel on water were to be heard, no winds, no lapping waves- with the descent of the rotting-man down below, the last few carrion-birds had lost hope and flown off. The usual accoutrements of ship design technology were also weirdly absent- there was not a wooden floor below deck, but it seemed earthy beneath the feet and for a few feet down; the amount of soil that could drown a vessel readily, from its excessive weight. Neither were there segmented decks or rooming space, or indeed any allowance for a further descent to a storage area below the first deck- the walls to either side of the almost four-foot divide, were streaked with brackish water, running down what appeared to be the axe and hoe-smoothed face of some underground tunnel, more engendered to an underground mine, than to a ship out at sea. And in the stone passage, recesses into the stone, dotted the hallway at irregular intervals; their darker-than-black aspect the only indication of their presence and of the unknown chambers beyond- eerily quiet, lifeless.

And in this darkness, the most pristine white serpent slithered sensuously, almost serenely along the earthen floor. Thicker than a fat man’s hips at its widest, the snake could have been well over 20 feet in length- its long, muscled neck elevated its wedge-shaped, flattened head, half a foot from the stone floor, looking so much like a white ship and prow gliding through the blackest, wave-less ocean. Intermittently a thick black chord of a forked tongue would poke out from between white lips, tasting the subterranean air. Eventually the great white serpent curved and twisted into one of the black cavities indicating the adjoining caves along the stone passage; not till near a minute later did the entire length of chorded muscle disappear into the black, for the serpent was in no hurry otherwise apparent.

**

In a twilight forest grove, where the trees seemed from an older era, perhaps thousands of years old, moonlight of a purer quality than experienced by human eyes in recent times, cascaded down on lush garden foliage; and the colors of extinct fruits and flowers, some never yet discovered by man, burst forth in their beauty, as much as they would have been radiant in sunlight it seems. There was a quality to the silence of the grove, such that could be hardly replicated by the artisans and engineers of the greatest Kings and Emperors. There was an antiquity, heavy in the air, which scented of primordial winds and the times before time; not a bird chirped that could be recognized by the brightest philosopher’s knowledgeable ears and none stirred but a gentle breeze that tasted of desolation, abandonment and despair. Yet the trees, their fruit, the bushes and their flowers, the very grass itself, was beautiful without compare; though it could have been said to have been crafted by the hands one any one master, it could likewise not be observed to have been engineered by many- it seemed a study in the perfection of nature, like nature’s higher form. The moon above hung bigger and brighter, far nearer to earth than on any of the three continents given to man. And its light illuminated the glittering, shifting scales of the enormous white snake as it slithered its way onto the bough of a giant apple tree, filled to bursting with blood-red apples the size of cabbages- everything in this garden was larger than life. The serpent’s eyes, as though reflecting the moon’s light off the glossy crimson apples, were every bit as bloody as the apples, like twin rubies suspended in a sliding, curling mass of whitest rope. But the serpent’s eyes reflected no light, nor did they gaze upon the succulent apples on the stems before her; her eyes saw the distant pasts of the world’s dead civilizations, unfocused on her surroundings but lost as if in a trance of her own inducement. Nor indeed could her eyes be any color other than deepest, blood red; they had been that way since she was cast out of the original gardens, a replica of which she had so laboriously enchanted over the millennia as her place of solace now and for all time. And the black forked tongue flicked, and the serpent gazed.

***

Skollvurn Forest

(Low Countries/ Netherlands)

From every corner of the forest, they filled in; like an endless horde they swarmed. They all wore dark cloaks or simple garments; some of the younger ones, the infants and adolescents, wore nothing but pantaloons or short shifts; it was as if the weather harkened not to them and the seasons could not be felt in their bones. They all had the same sickly, stark white complexion, rather chalk-like and just as lifeless. And they made not a sound- for all the movement, and in a similar direction no less, the breeze running through the blades of grass in the plains and meadows edging the great forest, made altogether more sounds than the passing of this silent army. Here and there among the throng, there would appear a haze, a shimmering shadow, almost man-like in dimensions; then it was gone.

They bothered not with obstacles in their paths; rocks were climbed without harnesses or proper gear, some trees were sailed by agility that surpassed any previous human ability, others were just simply pushed aside by arms now imbued with the strength of stone itself. No calls echoed through the forest ways for purposes of co-ordination or alignment, no helping hands reached out from one to the other to steady a stumbling gait, or encourage a straggler; all marched in tempo, to some unknown rhythm, and the only order maintained seemed to be that of not eliminating in like manner as all other obstacles, the individuals in their very path. No tools could be seen, no labor animals, no weapons, no sacks containing provisions or wagons for the like.

The invasion of the great forest was quick and wholesome- greater than six thousand pairs of feet traversed the borders, into the halls of Skollvurn forest, and in the ensuing gloom, the invaders could be readily distinguished only by an equal number of glowing crimson eyes, all set in one direction only: forward, onward. Maester Martel’s army and their auxiliaries had made stupendous time; for the force gathered a night ago had traversed over 400 miles in a night, rested through the day, and at dusk had finally set out and into the area of Skollvurn. Now a bloody retribution was at hand, and not a moment too soon it would seem.

***

SkollWodin Castle

(Inner Skollvurn Forest)

Before the great doors to the main building of the keep itself, stood an even deeper complement of mailed soldiers than at the entry gates to the fortress. The sun had finally set, and just before the gates had shut, seemingly for the night, a patrol of 50 cavalry had been dispatched to help escort any remaining stragglers to the fortress before the full onset of nightfall; it was already late evening. Nine guards stood watch at the doors to the lord’s hall, to the 6 posted at the main gates; four to either of the towering wooden doors, these over 40 feet in height and no less ornamental than the heavy main gates. One soldier, in bright red mail, which looked unimaginably expensive to the lowly villagers, stood apart from, and in front, center of the eight. He held a helmet in left arm with a great red plume atop it which reminded many who had witnessed it of the big fox previously given special entry into SkollWodin. This soldier now ordered the assembled families to gather around before the doors to the hall, where resided their common lord; he would speak to them all, in capacity as a herald of sorts though he remained unknown to most if not all, before their admittance into the great hall. He began speaking in a strange, lilting tongue that reminded many of the older parents there of older times, and grandparents long lost and very dear.

“I am Katwulf by name, commander of the first Cavalry watch of the tri-fortress valley of Skollvurn Forest. I have been empowered by our lord Odo Radagastius, as the herald of the peoples of the villas; I will be responsible for you all- for your feeding, your keep, and your transportation back to your respective hearths. But while you are all our guests, you shall all refer your inquiries and desires to myself, and through me to lord Radagastius. I thank you all, on behalf of the lord of SkollWodin, for your hasty responses to the summons, though on such short notice. And I assure you all that your stay will be a worriless one, if not directly fruitful.” Katwulf paused and surveyed the crowd before him, like he was expecting a reaction, or analyzing the reception of his words. He continued.

“Though we would wish it otherwise, we have called on you all, because our lands once more, from times near forgotten, have again come under siege” a gasp ran like a ripple in water through the assembly, “from the same enemy beyond the Fields of Flanders.” At the mention of the name Flanders, murmurs arose and harsh exclamations, from those who knew some of the martial history of the forest peoples, and those whose ancestors had served the lords of the fortresses in some capacity in the past. Rowalder’s features slowly drained of color at the announcements from commander Katwulf; Rollo noticed, but could not concentrate fully- he knew not of Flanders in the slightest, not of the history of the forest valleys with the Fields, but he was currently weaving and stretching about to get any glimpse of Gwoenfer, her Da and her brother Anslem. It would appear they numbered among the stragglers. Somewhere inside his chest, a little seed of worry was nurtured, and the reactions of the adults around them failed to sooth Rollo’s distress. Some parents grumbled openly against the lord’s summons, citing that if it were a war on their hands, why had not their entire families been summoned, asking what would befall their family members left behind at home and hearth. As more and more breadwinners subscribed to this argument, the whispers and grumbles gained more volume; for the lord of SkollWodin had only summoned his male subjects, but also all their children, male or female, above 13 summers of age. Now for those particularly skeptical of their lord’s reasoning in most matters, they began to demand answers with immediacy, and not from some lowly herald in a flashy red costume- they demanded Odo Radagastius himself. Why have a flashy name like his, if he seemed not to even exist to those who needed him most? Some noticed the queer smile on the lips of commander Katwulf as he observed the assembly before him in silence for a few moments longer, and were beginning to question the impunity of such a herald, but then he pulled out from its sheath on his hip a great, double-edged sword, with a pale white blade like dried bone. At this, the majority of the crowd quieted at once, some remembering their situation, in the middle of a heavily armed and fortified keep, with well-trained soldiers and sufficient arms to make them but an unpleasant memory in a short time.

“While I may remind you that your petitions must go through my person, before presentation to the lord himself, I have not refused you, nor do I have the power, to separate you, from the lord’s presence here in his very own halls. You will see and meet with your lord, very shortly. But firstly, a few things. This invasion is of a different sort than any you have heard tell of” and now he strolled back and forth upon the first stair, “and while it has been experienced in these valleys, at the cost of some blood, you all have remained in peace for generation after generation” now he lifted the large blade over his head, with a single arm, seemingly with no apparent effort than stretching up an arm during an oath.

“We the garrisons of the tri-fortresses, solemnly swear to uphold our ancient charge and die in the defense of these valleys we all share as home. As commander, I guarantee it, as well as the oaths of all my men presently here or in the field. Look among yourselves, and realize that your gathering is a peculiar one. For you all have much to discuss with the lord Radagastius, and many choices have to be made soonest. For you all, here, have a major role to play; in the turn of events concerning the impending invasion as well as for the future of the Skollvurn valleys and the tri-fortresses. So it is with steel and sword, but also with an open heart and a warm smile, that I Katwulf of Hibernia, welcomes this gathering to SkollWodin Keep. By the power invested in me, by Odo Radagastius of the line of Odo Fenrir, I command all ye, ascend these very steps, no longer as subjects or serfs of the land; ascend these steps as Freedmen, into the halls of SkollWodin Castle!”

At this, the crimson-armored guard turned on his heels and marched smoothly, in the learned dignity of martial men, up the steps towards the towering doors of the great keep. The soldiers nearest the doors turned in tune, pushing against doors that, for all their great height and supposed weight, fell back smoothly and without sound, to reveal a deep, richly lit hall. And at the far end, upon a dais elevated by several more steps, sat one as yet indistinguishable, upon a great wooden high-backed chair, behind which swayed the same red pennant, with the wolf head in a black ring.

*