The first orc opened the door and entered, and Smitty waited until just before the fourth and last orc reached the door, then put an arrow in its back. He quickly drew and fired twice more before the orc fell facedown in the dirt at the threshold. He ran forward, dropping his bow and drawing his sword as the sounds of battle erupted inside the house. Taking up station to one side of the door, he gritted his teeth and waited. He didn’t like it, but his job was to ambush any orc that made it back out the door.
Inside the house, Max had stationed himself right next to the front door, where he’d be behind the door as it opened. The two dwarves were in the kitchen, crouched behind the overturned table, each with a crossbow in hand.
When the orcs came through the door, it took several seconds for them to register that they were alone, then to notice the overturned table and the ransacked room. At that moment, the grunt of pain accompanied the sound of several arrows striking their companion. The lead orc was just reaching for the axe on its back when the dwarves popped up and fired. The first took a bolt to the chest, and the one behind him took a shot to the gut. Both bolts punched through leather armor and deep into flesh.
Behind the orcs, Max shoved the door shut with his shoulder while thrusting his sword into the back of the third orc.
Critical Hit! Sneak attack! Damage bonus 150%
Max waved away the notice, already aware that the blade through its heart had killed the orc. He quickly pulled the sword free and swung it at the back of the next orc in a downward chop that dug deeply into its shoulder.
The two dwarves emerged and charged the lead orc, shields hammering into it, knocking its sword out of its hand. After that, the battle ended quickly. Max finished his second orc by reaching around with his sword and cutting its throat, nearly decapitating it. The dwarves hacked at their orc’s legs until it stumbled, then Battleaxe buried his hand axe in its face, finishing it.
They quickly looted the dead orcs and claimed their ears before dragging the bodies out of the house. Smitty went to take care of the patrol’s mounts, which were anxious to get into the corral and help consume the farmer and his wife. Seeing that the two bodies were mostly gone, Smitty and Max tossed two more of the orcs into the corral with the new arrivals. The mostly full half dozen that were already there didn’t even try to fight for the fresh meat, leaving the patrol’s horses to eat their riders.
Back inside the house, they righted the table and took seats again. Dalia poured some ale, and they discussed their next steps.
“We can stay here for the night, though we should put up a sentry, just in case.” Smitty offered. “I’ll take first watch, if you like.”
With the watch rotation established, Max began to think out loud.
“We now have ten horse-things. We could load them up with all the loot we buried and return to Darkholm. It would only take a day to get back, if we’re riding, I think?” He looked at the map he’d spread out on the table, then looked at the scout.
“A day, at least, dependin on the pace. There be a lot o’ weight to carry. Will they pull a wagon?” The dwarf looked at Smitty, who shook his head.
“No, they won’t tolerate the harness. There is a wagon behind the shack, and a pair of oxen out in the fields somewhere. They could pull everything we have and more. But they’re slow.”
The scout shook his head. “Too long. We know it be only two days till the next patrol visits here. And we do no’ know when the dead miners will be discovered. With these mounts, we can be at the orc capital in two days, maybe three. Ye’ll need to be makin peace before reports o’ dead orcs start driftin’ in and the chief assumes it were us.”
“He’s got a point, boss.” Smitty agreed. “We’ve got about half of the hundred ears needed, and we might be able to gather the rest before reaching the war chief. They don’t have anything like cellphones or radios here, so we have a few days, but not much more.”
Max nodded. It wasn’t so much the experience for the peace quest that motivated him. Though the favor from Ironhand would be useful. Peace was in his best interest as well, as it would make it easier for him to grow his own kingdom. The ideas that had been bouncing around in his head the last few days would be much harder to put into motion if there were an active war between the orcs and dwarves, or the orcs and Stormhaven.
“Alright, we go on, first thing in the morning. We’ll leave our stash buried, but take all the mounts with us. If another patrol shows up, I want them to have to pursue us with tired mounts, while we have at least one replacement each.” He looked at the map. “Battleaxe, try to find us a few more small settlements to hit along the way. I want to have our hundred ears before we see the war chief. I may have to enter into a peace agreement that prevents me from killing orcs and taking ears afterward.”
Before they turned in for the night, Battleaxe insisted on some training. Specifically sword training for Max and Smitty. “Ye swing them things about like ye’re swattin’ at insects!” he accused them. Both of the men were up for it, so they moved out to the cleared area between the house and the barn. Dalia drew her sword and raised her shield, facing off against Smitty. Battleaxe did the same with Max. For the next two hours they tested and trained the two newcomers, pushing them to stretch their abilities. Both former humans were knocked on their butts regularly, or found themselves with a blade at their throats, groins, or hamstrings. Max fared slightly better, having spent some time sparring with Thelonia.
When Dalia finally called a halt, it was getting late. Max had leveled his sword skill twice, and Smitty was up four skill levels, having started at zero. Dawn was only about six hours away. Max volunteered to take the night’s watch so the other three could sleep. He’d had a nice long rest the night before, and didn’t need the sleep as much as the others.
As they all crawled into their bedrolls, Max began to rehearse in his mind what he might say to the war chief. He was going to need to be damned convincing to persuade the orc leader to give up a thousand years of hatred. It occurred to him that he didn’t even know how the war started. That might have been good information to get before he’d left Darkholm. Still, he could claim to be the ignorant and disinterested outsider, the neutral third party.
He would also have to be able to stand his ground, to avoid looking weak when dealing with the orc chieftain. The one thing he was pretty sure he knew about orcs was that they respected strength and honor, much like the dwarves. It occurred to him that maybe that was why the two races fought so long. They were much alike, and their overactive sense of honor on both sides wouldn’t let them forgive a perceived slight or insult from the other.
Red appeared as he was sitting on the stone wall of the well, staring up at the sky. “Looking for your Earth? It’s not up there.” She followed his gaze.
“How would you know?”
“I don’t just sit around picking my nose when I’m not with you, mister let me set off an explosion in a mine and bury myself.”
Max chuckled. She had him there, but somehow he was not annoyed. “What have you been doing, oh wise and snarky guide?”
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” She paused to stick her tongue out at him. “I found some leprechauns that have been to your world. Your old world, I mean. We Fae have boundaries with most worlds. Though yours is notoriously tough to break through to, as it has very little ambient mana.” Max leaned forward now, interested in what she had to say.
“I managed to find two leprechauns that spent time on your world roughly three hundred of your years ago. They were not impressed, by the way.”
Max shook his head, disappointed. Earth three centuries in the past wasn’t much more technologically advanced than this world was now. Sure, his planet was using firearms like long rifles and cannons by that time. But they did not have the miraculous magic abilities the residents of this world have.
“That’s great Red, but I’m not sure three hundred year old information is useful to you, or me, at this point.”
“Well, I still won’t get your jokes, but it may help me to understand humans in general better, and that might help me to understand you. And Smitty.”
“Yeah, why doesn’t Smitty have a guide like you? I mean, he could see you…”
“That is part of what I’m trying to find out. Right now, I can only guess that he, and maybe more of your men, were offered the chance to come here because you came here. I have a suspicion that the gods sent you here for a reason, and that it was not random chance that a Valkyrie found you. I think you’re being guided, and not so subtly, by higher powers. I mean, you were born into this world within spitting distance of that dwarven outpost, and just randomly had the urge to climb a huge vertical rock face that led right to the outpost, and Regin?”
“Okay, let’s say you’re right. I was given you to guide me through my adventure here. It seems like not giving Smitty or any others a guide was sort of throwing them under the bus.”
“If I get your meaning correctly, yes it has put Smitty at a disadvantage. Like I said, I’m still trying to figure out why.”
Max changed the subject, the fact that his men might have been plunged into this world without any assistance, and that it might be because of him, angered him.
“You saw the three crystals I looted? Any idea what they are?”
“I agree with Dalia, I believe them to be gnomish in origin. But I have no further information. That’s just a hunch based on their description. I could guess and say that they’re meant to power some magical construct or gadget the gnomes have invented.”
“I hope it’s a giant super robot with laser beam eyes, that could fight Godzilla!” Max grinned to himself. Red just looked at him like he was an idiot. “Sorry, recent cultural references from my world.”
Red stared at him blankly for a few seconds, then asked, “Have you thought about what you’re going to ask from the king if you manage to pull off his peace quest?”
Max nodded. “I have a short list of things, but some of them I may be able to accomplish on my own. I fully intent to profit from being the go-between in this peace deal as much as I possibly can. That’ll teach them not to send a soldier to be a politician. That never ends well.”
Chapter 21
First thing in the morning they hit the road, the four of them riding, with the remaining six mounts trailing behind on tethers. Max had been concerned that the unmounted beasts would simply chew through their tether, but Smitty assured him that they were all trained, and would follow along peaceably, as long as they were well fed. And all these mounts were very well fed.
They rode in a nearly straight line toward the orc capital, following a patrol route that had been used so often it had almost reached trail status. Toward the end of the day they came across a four-orc patrol that was traveling the opposite direction. Smitty moved to the lead, and by the time the orcs noticed the dwarves behind him, they were well within bowshot. Smitty and Max fired their bows, while both dwarves fired crossbows. The fight didn’t last long, even though Max’s arrow was the only fatal shot in the first volley. Two of the orcs were wounded and unhorsed, dropping into the grass alongside the trail. Battleaxe and Smitty slid from their mounts and finished them off while Max put more arrows into the fourth orc, who stayed on his mount even after he was dead.
Rather than try to drag along four more mounts, Max instructed them to just loot the orcs’ bodies, and set the beasts free after he’d claimed the ears. They got back on their own mounts and continued on until dark. Smitty spotted a decent campsite up on a hill, with large rocks positioned between the site and the trail so that they could have a fire without being spotted.
After dinner Max decided to get some sleep, leaving the night’s watch to the other three. He wasted no time, climbing into his bedroll and closing his eyes. One of the disciplines he’d learned as a soldier was how to sleep on command, and he was quickly out.
*****
It was several hours before dawn when he was awakened by a kick to the back. He growled and rolled over, thinking to yell at Smitty for not knowing his own strength, when he received a second kick, in the gut this time.
Hard.
Looking up, he saw an unfamiliar orc baring its tusks at him. Then two more behind that one. Turning his head, he saw at least twenty orcs with weapons drawn standing over his party. He heard Smitty frantically yelling that Max was a king, and an ambassador from the dwarves, on his way to see the war chief.
Another kick to his ribs, and Max was tempted to eat the orc’s face despite what might happen to his friends. The monster’s rage inside him was rising quickly. He was saved another kick when a large orc with red lines tattooed on his forehead growled, “On your feet! All of you!”
Max complied, staring down the orc that had been kicking him from about a six-inch height advantage. When the orc bared his teeth, Max bared his fangs and leaned forward, putting his nose just inches from the orc’s, seriously considering making his head explode.
The orc backed down, then bristled when his comrades laughed at him. It didn’t last long, because the leader punched Max’s opponent in the side of the head, knocking him down.
“King Max.” The orc looked him up and down. “You’re no dwarf. I see dark elf, but no dark elf has ever grown to be your size.” The orc’s speech was much more refined than Max had come to expect from his race.
“I’m also part troll, part stonetalon.” Max bared his teeth for the commander, then quickly raised his left arm and bit into it, drawing blood. He then held out his arm for the commander to see, and they both watched as the wound closed in seconds.
The commander grunted. “You speak some truth. Troll blood.” He stared into Max’s eyes, and Max calmly returned the look now that the other orc wasn’t baiting him.
“What the orc said is true. I am King Max of the city formerly known as Nogroz, now Stormhaven. We killed all the grey dwarves in the city, and I took it for myself. It is to be an open city, all races welcome, light or dark. I am on my way to see your war chief, to offer him a gift, and propose an end to the conflict between orcs and dwarves.” He gazed at the commander. “I will be recruiting soldiers for my city. Talented commanders are badly needed.”
“Show me this gift!” The orc demanded. Max considered it for a while. The sword wasn’t exactly a secret, though he preferred it be a surprise. If these orcs were going to kill him, it really wouldn’t make any difference either way. With a brief nod, he produced the weapon, which the dwarves had placed into a brand new leather scabbard, finely worked with dwarven runes and images of battle. Holding it up for the orc to Examine, he quickly snatched it back when the orc reached for it.
“This is for the war chief’s hands, and no other. I will protect it with my life. If you wish to possess it, you will have to kill me.” He snarled at the orc, meeting his eyes. “And I will kill you, and half your men, before I go down.”
The orcs around him roared at the challenge, some feeling insulted, some appreciating the stones that Max was displaying. The commander leaned in until his face was less than a foot from Max’s, then roared a challenge.
Max barely blinked. Instead, he said, “Or you could take us to your war chief, without touching his sword, and earn glory for capturing such a prize.” This silenced the commander, and all but the most bloodthirsty orcs.
One of those orcs stepped forward, jabbing a spear toward Max. “I’ll kill this spy if you don’t have the courage!” A quick glance showed that the commander wasn’t moving to interfere, so Max took matters into his own hands. He returned the sword to his inventory, then stood straight and let the orc get closer, raising his hands wide out to his sides, and gritted his teeth. The spear wielder hesitated, then jabbed his spear into Max’s hip, just below the bottom edge of his chainmail shirt. Max accepted the blow, feeling the spearpoint grind against bone as the pain registered. With a roar, he lunged forward and reached out with his long arms, grabbed the orc on either side of its head, and twisted with all his thirty
four points of strength. The head turned sharply to the left, the orc’s spine snapping inside its thick neck.
When the orc fell limp, it pulled the spear free. Max cast a heal on himself even as he roared at the rest of the orcs. “Who’s next?” He turned to face the commander, the bleeding at his hip already stopped. “You wish to try and kill the Chimera King?!”
Another orc stepped forward behind the commander, and Max simply pointed at him, shouting, “Boom!” He kept the commander between them as his friends obeyed their standing instructions and hit the dirt. A second later the orc’s right shoulder exploded, sending bone blasting through the side of its head. Two more orcs were wounded, and several, including the commander, were showered in blood.
“Enough!” the commander shouted, turning his back to Max and glaring at his diminished and wounded troops. When things calmed, Max cast heals on the two wounded orcs, who exclaimed in surprise.
“I do not want to kill you and your warriors, but I will if you try to block my path.” Max growled, pointing the same finger the orcs had just seen him use to kill one of their own.
The commander blinked.
“We will escort this chimera king to the city!” He declared. “Let the war chief accept his gift, and decide his fate!” Several of the orcs chuckled at this, sure that their chief would take the sword and use it to take Max’s head.
Max and his party were allowed to gather their things, and the first thing Max did was go to loot the bodies and claim the ears of the dead orcs. When the others grumbled, he looked at the commander. “My kills, my trophies. This is the way of my people. You wish to object?”
The commander did not. He simply grunted, nodding in approval, and motioned for Max to get aboard Pokey. The orcs didn’t take the party’s weapons, a measure of respect, or maybe disdain. Despite Max’s quick dispatch of two of his warriors, the commander seemed confident that his remaining force could handle the party.
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