And so it begins…
"I would rather be here with you than anywhere else in the world," she said.
"I feel the same." He was about to say more, but when he felt the prick of a metal point at the back of his neck, he froze.
Natalia turned her head slightly to see the tip of a spear only a finger's breadth from her face. Her eyes drifted up the wooden shaft to where strong, green hands gripped the weapon. A massive Orc stood staring down at them while his two companions held the spears. He knelt, bringing his face close to Athgar's.
"He has the grey eyes of the Torkul," the Orc announced in the guttural speech of his race.
"Greetings," said Athgar, using the same language. "I am Athgar, of the Orcs of the Red Hand."
A look of surprise erupted on the Orc's face. "You speak our language! What manner of magic is this?"
"It's not magic," insisted Athgar. "I am a member of the tribe. Move your spears, and I shall prove it."
The Orc looked at one of his companions. "This is most unexpected."
"It is a trick, Urughar," insisted his comrade. "A trap set by the Torkul. Do not trust him."
The Orc turned his attention to Natalia. "And what of this female?" asked Urughar. "She is not of the Torkul."
"Is she his prisoner?"
"No," said Athgar, "she is my bondmate."
Urughar turned his attention back to the Therengian. "You know our culture, I will grant you that, but give me a good reason why I should not kill you both here, right now."
"I know the way of your people," the Human replied. "It is not the Orc custom to kill uninjured prisoners. Take us to your chieftain, and let the tribe decide our fate."
The Orc stood, stretching his back while looking around the pine forest. He glanced at the third Orc, a somewhat rotund fellow. "What think you, Ogda?"
"Let Kirak decide," he replied. "It is not for us to make that decision."
Get Battle at the River for Free
HOW DO YOU WIN AN UNBEATABLE BATTLE?
Paul J Bennett’s newsletter members are the first to hear about upcoming books, along with receiving WIP updates and exclusive content.
* * *
Receive Battle at the River, a Mercerian Short Story, when you register for Paul’s newsletter.
* * *
Enjoy the story, then check out the sign-up details at the end of the book.
Flames
The Frozen Flame: Book Three
Paul J Bennett
The World of Eiddenwerthe
Contents
1. Around the Fire
2. Ord-Kurgad
3. The Black Axe
4. Confrontation
5. Hunting Grounds
6. The Passes
7. King of the Therengians
8. Refuge
9. Parley
10. House of Stone
11. An Ill Wind
12. Welcome
13. Reunited
14. The Trap
15. Interim
16. Ebenstadt
17. The Tribes
18. Preparations
19. Judgement
20. The Master
21. Ancestors
22. Bait
23. The Duel
24. Prisoner
25. The Wolf
26. Escape
27. The Reckoning
28. Contact
29. Opening Moves
30. Battle of the Standing Stones
31. Counterattack
32. The Last Stand
33. Home
Epilogue
Servant of the Crown - Prologue
Also by Paul J Bennett
About the Author
Around the Fire
Summer 1104 SR*
(Saints Reckoning)
* * *
Athgar stared into the flames, his mind deep in thought.
"A copper for your thoughts?" said Natalia.
He gazed across at her, taking in her black hair and pale features. He had met her less than a year ago, and yet somehow, he felt as though they had known each other their entire lives. He smiled, feeling a warmth at the thought of her embrace.
"Well?" she asked. "Are you going to keep staring, or are you going to come over here and tell me your deepest thoughts?"
"I was thinking of Kargen and Shaluhk," he confessed, "though I will take you up on the offer." He rose, moving closer while she took the blanket from her shoulders, spreading it to encompass them both as he sat beside her on the log.
"They must be well on their way by now," she mused.
"I'm not so sure about that. It's not easy convincing an entire tribe to leave their home."
"They have little choice. You know the Duke of Krieghoff won't take his defeat very well. He'll retaliate. I only hope the Orcs escape in time."
"They will," said Athgar. "The Ancestors watch over them."
"Would that be the same Ancestors who sent us here?" She looked around the forest.
"They work in mysterious ways. We're on our way to Ebenstadt, remember?"
"We spent weeks crossing the mountains. Of course I didn't forget, but why? What do they have in mind for us?"
He shrugged. "I have no idea. Maybe it's better that way? What we don't know can't worry us."
"Do you believe they control us?"
"No, the Orcs are quite clear in their beliefs. The Ancestors guide them, not control them."
"With some exceptions," Natalia added.
"True. I doubt either of us will ever forget the treachery of Khurlig. Her spirit was almost the end of us all."
Natalia nodded her head thoughtfully. It wasn't so long ago that she had, with Shaluhk's help, tried to contact one of the Orc Ancestors with somewhat disastrous results. If it hadn't been for the timely intervention of Uhdrig, they both might have ended up dead, or even worse, trapped in the spirit realm forever.
Athgar saw her shudder and put his arm around her shoulder. "It's all right he soothed. "It's all over now."
She glanced around the small clearing, turning skyward to where the majestic pines gazed down on them. "I've never been one for the outdoors, but you make it quite bearable."
A spark from the fire drew their attention. "It appears the hare is almost done," he said as he reached forward, withdrawing the makeshift spear from the ground and examining its slightly burned offering. "I think I cooked it too long."
Natalia laughed, the sound echoing through the trees. "My hero, the mighty hunter. Did no one ever teach you how to cook?"
He offered her the spear. "You're welcome to give it a try?"
"I'm the city girl, remember? I spent my life at the Volstrum." She smiled, lessening the blow. "Don't worry, I'm sure there's enough unburned meat for us to survive."
He pulled forth a knife and began cutting off a thin strip.
Natalia took the tender morsel, popping it into her mouth and chewing. "Not bad," she said, "but it could use some spice."
"I'll give you spice," he said, lowering the spear. He leaned in close, kissing her even as she tried to chew. They both fell back from their makeshift perch into the leaves and pine needles that blanketed the forest floor.
Natalia shrieked out with laughter, Athgar soon joining in the merriment. Eventually, they fell silent, each looking into the other's eyes.
"I would rather be here with you than anywhere else in the world," she said.
"I feel the same." He was about to say more, but when he felt the prick of a metal point at the back of his neck, he froze.
Natalia turned her head slightly to see the tip of a spear only a finger's breadth from her face. Her eyes drifted up the wooden shaft to where strong, green hands gripped the weapon. A massive Orc stood staring down at them while his two companions held th
e spears. He knelt, bringing his face close to Athgar's.
"He has the grey eyes of the Torkul," the Orc announced in the guttural speech of his race.
"Greetings," said Athgar, using the same language. "I am Athgar, of the Orcs of the Red Hand."
A look of surprise erupted on the Orc's face. "You speak our language! What manner of magic is this?"
"It's not magic," insisted Athgar. "I am a member of the tribe. Move your spears, and I shall prove it."
The Orc looked at one of his companions. "This is most unexpected."
"It is a trick, Urughar," insisted his comrade. "A trap set by the Torkul. Do not trust him."
The Orc turned his attention to Natalia. "And what of this female?" asked Urughar. "She is not of the Torkul."
"Is she his prisoner?"
"No," said Athgar, "she is my bondmate."
Urughar turned his attention back to the Therengian. "You know our culture, I will grant you that, but give me a good reason why I should not kill you both here, right now."
"I know the way of your people," the Human replied. "It is not the Orc custom to kill uninjured prisoners. Take us to your chieftain, and let the tribe decide our fate."
The Orc stood, stretching his back while looking around the pine forest. He glanced at the third Orc, a somewhat rotund fellow. "What think you, Ogda?"
"Let Kirak decide," he replied. "It is not for us to make that decision."
Urughar looked back at Athgar. "It seems my companions wish to take you back to Ord-Ghadrak. If you give us any problems, I shall have you killed on the spot. Is that clear?"
Athgar turned to Natalia. "They want to take us to a place called Ord-Ghadrak. I'm assuming it's the name of their village."
"And then?" she asked.
"I imagine we'll meet their chieftain."
"Will your torc keep us safe?"
He instinctively put a hand to his neck where the golden necklace lay beneath his clothes. It had been a gift from Kargen to symbolize his close ties with the Orcs of the Red Hand, a sure sign he was held in high esteem. But now, amongst these new Orcs, he wondered if they would recognize it. He and Natalia had been expecting to arrive in a Human city, not an Orc village. So he had hidden it, for such open displays of Orc culture might be seen as provocation amongst Humans.
"Orc tribes have many differences," he announced. "I can't guarantee we'll see the same sort of reception as we had in Ord-Kurgad."
"I wish Kargen and Shaluhk were here," said Natalia. "They'd know what to do."
A spear pressed close, eliciting a wince from Athgar as the point drew blood.
"Silence!" the Orc roared. "Now, get to your feet. We have a long way to travel, and darkness will soon be upon us."
Ord-Kurgad
Summer 1104 SR
(In the tongue of the Orcs)
* * *
Kargen struggled through the assembled mass to where Shaluhk stood, their son, Agar, by her side, clutching a wooden axe. At nine months of age, he had been walking for some time as was typical of his race. He had already accompanied his father on the hunt, though only as an observer.
"Is all ready?" asked Shaluhk.
Kargen nodded, taking in those around him. "We have enough food for a ten-day of travel, maybe even two if we conserve our strength. The real issue will be water, for we are entering uncharted territory."
"The Ancestors will guide us."
A short, pale green Orc moved closer, the crowd parting to allow him through.
"Master Artoch," said Shaluhk, "are you sure you will not come with us? We would welcome a wielder of flame."
The elderly shaman bowed. "You flatter me, but I can not. Those who have chosen to remain will need my guidance."
"You know the Humans will return," warned Kargen, "and in greater numbers than before. They will not sit idly by allowing us to live in peace after the defeat we have dealt them."
"I know," said Artoch, "and yet what would you have me do? I can not abandon our people in their time of need."
"We are not abandoning them," said Kargen, his emotions threatening to get the better of him. "If they were not so stone-headed, they would realize that. Convince them to join us, Artoch. It is their only hope of survival."
"I have tried, believe me." He reached up, placing his hand on his chieftain's shoulder. "May the Ancestors guide you, Kargen," he said, "and you too, Shaluhk. You are the future of our people."
"I wish you the best of luck," said Kargen, "for you face a difficult time."
"As do we all," noted the master of flame. "Now, I shall return to the village to help those I might. You, on the other hand, must begin the great exodus eastward into the vast wilderness where Humans fear to tread. Farewell, my friends."
They watched him go, soon disappearing from view. Shaluhk reached down, lifting up the wicker basket and frame so she could slip it over her shoulders.
Kargen took a last look at the village, then hefted his own burden, a large basket containing an assortment of weapons, including the precious warbows. Athgar had shown them how to make a bow that would take advantage of the Orcs massive strength, and Kargen was loathe to part with them. He looked around searching the crowd, to no avail.
"Where is he?" he asked.
"He will be here soon enough," explained Shaluhk. "My brother is often late for things. It was true even of his own birth."
Kargen looked at her in surprise. "I thought he was the older?"
"He was, but I could not come forth into the world until he made up his mind to enter it first."
A familiar cry echoed through the crowd. "Where is that sister-son of mine?"
"Laruhk," said Shaluhk. "It is about time you showed up. Where have you been?"
Her brother pushed his way closer, then halted, brandishing a small bow. "I have this," he announced, "for Agar."
The tiny Orc ran towards his uncle, his wooden axe still clutched in his hand.
Laruhk knelt, replacing bow for axe. "You carry this," he said, "and later, once we are underway, I will show you how to use it." He tucked the axe into Agar's weapon belt, the mark of a true huntsman.
Shaluhk placed her hands on her hips, a very Human pose. "He can barely use the axe, Brother. How can you expect him to be able to master a bow?"
"Why not?" said Laruhk. "I was of a similar age when I first used one."
Shaluhk shook her head. "You were almost two. Sometimes I think you forget more than you remember."
"Two years, nine months. What is the difference?"
Kargen held up his hand. "Perhaps it is best if we leave this discussion for another time. We have a migration to begin."
"Very well," said Shaluhk, "but I warn you, the matter is far from settled.
"Take the hunters forward," ordered Kargen. "They are the eyes and ears of the tribe. They know what to do."
Laruhk bowed. "As you wish, my chieftain."
He ran off, calling others to his side as he went.
"He means well," said Kargen.
Shaluhk took Agar's hand. "So he does, but he needs someone to keep his mind occupied. He is far too... what is the Human term?"
"Frivolous?" suggested Kargen.
"Yes, that is precisely what my brother is."
"He needs a bondmate," said Kargen.
Shaluhk scanned the crowd. "He will not find one here. All of our females of age are already bonded."
"Then maybe he will find one in our travels?"
She gave her chieftain a quizzical look. "We are travelling into the wilderness. Orc females do not grow on trees, you know."
Kargen laughed a low, rumbling sound that reverberated through the crowd. "You are beginning to sound like Nat-Alia."
"And is that a bad thing?"
"No, not at all." He lapsed into silence.
She placed her other hand on his arm. "I miss them too, but we must believe we will meet them again."
"Perhaps," he replied, though with little enthusiasm.
The c
rowd started thinning as the first of them began moving. Soon they were heading eastward through the heavily wooded forest that had been their home for generations.
Kargen and Shaluhk stayed with the centre of the column, helping others, and doing what they could to keep their spirits raised. It was not an easy thing to leave one's home, particularly under the threat of war, but Kargen was determined to see them safely through this ordeal.
* * *
By midday, they had topped a rise. Kargen halted, watching the distant smoke drifting up from the village, evidence life still went on amongst those who had chosen to remain.
Shaluhk paused by his side, her hand instinctively finding his. "Something troubles you."
He nodded. "To reach the wilderness, we must cross the width of the Duchy of Holstead. I doubt the duke will take kindly to us doing so."
"But we mean no harm. Can he not see that?"
"We are talking of Humans, a race who has persecuted us for generations."
"And yet it was the Duke of Holstead who allowed us to live in peace."
Kargen nodded. "Yes, but recent events have put even that in jeopardy. He will not be pleased to see the soldiers of his nemesis so close to his lands. For years, we have served to protect his border. Our exodus leaves it dangerously exposed."
"We can not be held hostage by the whims of dukes. We are our own people, not here to be used as some kind of weapon by Human nobles."
Inferno Page 1
