Inferno

by Paul J Bennett

  He tried talking to the animal and then cursed himself for speaking Orc. Next, he tried common, but the stubborn creature was having none of it. Finally, his heart pounding in fear, he slapped the horse's rump, sending it careening off across the field. Laruhk held on for dear life, grasping the mane to steady himself. He felt the wind in his hair, the pulse of the great beast beneath him, and then his head struck a branch as the horse rushed into some trees. One moment he was sitting on the beast's back, the next, he was lying on the ground.

  Laruhk shook his throbbing head, trying to stop the world from spinning. His eyes finally came into focus only to stare up into the drawn swords of three soldiers. He smiled, throwing out his arms to his front in supplication. "I am your prisoner," he said, using the common tongue, and then everything went black.

  * * *

  He awoke to a slap. Before him knelt the Human leader, the man who had called himself Commander Harmon.

  "Speak, you imbecile," the man was ranting. "I know you understand our language."

  Laruhk stared back, unsure of the man's meaning. He tried to speak, but his tongue was swollen, his throat parched.

  Harmon looked at his companion. "Is there nothing you can do?"

  "He is an Orc, Commander. I doubt torture will loosen his tongue."

  Harmon leaned in closer. Laruhk wanted to hit him, but he realized his hands were tied behind his back. He thought back on Kargen's words, then took a deep breath.

  "Water," he said, his voice cracking.

  "Get him some water," said Harmon. "Maybe that will loosen his tongue."

  "Are you sure, sir?"

  "Do as I say, man!"

  "Yes, sir." His companion held up a cup, tipping the contents down Laruhk's throat.

  "Thank you," said the Orc.

  "Now speak, you vile creature," said Harmon. "Where have they gone?"

  "Back to Ord-Kurgad," said Laruhk, "where you ordered them."

  Harmon smiled. "You lie, Orc. We have sent riders ahead. There is no sign of them."

  Laruhk's face fell. It appeared the ruse would not work after all. "Very well, I shall tell you, but you must promise not to punish them."

  Harmon looked like he wanted to say something but instead took a breath, his face turning red. "Go on," he urged.

  "We tried to lure you westward so we could make an escape."

  "To where, man?"

  Laruhk wanted to laugh, for being called a man was funny to him. Instead, he took a deep breath. "They are going south, to the wilderness."

  "I knew it!" said Harmon. "It was a trick all along. These are crafty creatures, these Orcs."

  "Your orders, sir?"

  "Send the cavalry south. As soon as they've found the trail, we'll send the infantry to follow."

  "And what of the prisoner, sir?"

  Harmon rose, a smile crossing his features. "He has given us all he can. Dispose of him, Sergeant."

  "Yes, Commander." The warrior moved closer, drawing his sword. Laruhk gazed up at him, unable to do anything but watch his own doom approaching.

  The commander had moved out of sight, but the sergeant, obviously enjoying himself, made a show of holding the blade before Laruhk's eyes.

  "See this, greenskin? This is the instrument of your death. Say your prayers to whatever you believe in."

  As he drew back his sword, ready to plunge it into Laruhk's chest, he suddenly halted, a look of surprise on his face as the tip of an arrow blossomed from his chest, splattering Laruhk with blood. The sergeant fell forward to his knees, then flat onto his face, the tail end of the arrow protruding from his back.

  Moments later, Durgash was there, warbow in one hand, his knife in the other. "Can you walk?"

  "No," said Laruhk, "but I can run!"

  Hunting Grounds

  Summer 1104 SR

  * * *

  Urughar slowly brushed aside the weeds, his eyes searching the area. "I see no sign of them at present, but our hunters marked their presence here only yesterday."

  "Then we shall proceed on our own," said Athgar. "I think it best they don't know we're here at your request, at least initially."

  "Good luck to you, Therengian, and may your axe stay sharp."

  "Thank you, Urughar."

  The Orc hunter withdrew, leaving Athgar and Natalia in silence, the only sound that of distant songbirds.

  "It's very peaceful here," she noted.

  "So it is," he agreed. "How do you think we should proceed?"

  It took only a moment for Natalia to make up her mind. She rose, stretching her back and luxuriating in the warmth of the sun. "There's no sense in skulking around here; we should walk out in the open."

  He soon joined her, though his hand gripped his axe tightly.

  "Put that away," she said. "We want to make friends, not intimidate them. Besides which, we might not see them at all."

  "They were here yesterday."

  "There is no guarantee they are still here. If you were hunting, wouldn't you want to take the kill back to your village?"

  "Of course, so Skora could skin it for me."

  "She was the old woman who helped look after you and your sister, wasn't she?"

  "That's right, I'm surprised you remember. I wouldn't have thought you'd consider it important."

  "People are always important, and aside from your sister, she's probably the closest you have to a family. Hopefully I'll meet her one day."

  Athgar frowned. "I doubt you'll get the chance. She was old when I last saw her. She's probably dead by now."

  "Why would you say that?"

  "Skora always had a streak of rebellion. I doubt she'd take well to a life of slavery. What about you? Do you remember much about your mother?"

  "No, but then again, I was young."

  "But you were thirteen when you went to the Volstrum, weren't you? Can't you remember something?"

  "Ten, actually. I vaguely remember a face, but the academy kept us busy. There was little time for reflection. I'm afraid I've lost most of my childhood memories."

  He reached out his hand. "Then we'll just have to make new ones."

  Natalia grasped his hand in hers as they stepped into the clearing. Athgar paused as he spotted movement, and then a hare raced across the clearing, a wolf in pursuit.

  "I doubt we'll see any hunters yet," he said, pointing. "If they were in the area, the wolves would be scarce."

  "Don't they normally hunt in packs?" she asked.

  "They do, but this one looks young. Perhaps he's learning?"

  "Should we be alarmed?"

  "No, they seldom attack Humans."

  "Seldom, or never?"

  Athgar smiled. "They've been known to attack farm animals from time to time, but only in harsh winters. This place looks to be teeming with wildlife."

  She cast her eyes about, then turned to face him. "Are we looking at the same place? I see no signs of life."

  He pointed at a nearby tree. "Something's been nibbling at the bark over there, and there are deer prints beneath us, not to mention the hare we just saw."

  She looked down in wonderment. "Deer prints?"

  Athgar knelt, pointing them out. "Yes, here. Don't you see them? A young buck would be my guess."

  "How can you possibly tell that?"

  "I'm a hunter, remember? The depth of the print gives a rough idea of the weight."

  "This is definitely your world," she said. "You feel at home here, don't you?"

  "I feel at home wherever you are," he replied, "but I was raised in a place like this, though there were not so many pine trees in Athelwald."

  "And more maple," noted Natalia. "I do so like the taste of it."

  "You're thinking of Shaluhk's porridge again."

  "I am. I think I've developed a taste for it."

  "Come on, let's get moving."

  "Which direction?"

  Athgar scanned the area. "Kirak said they came from the west. That seems like a good enough place to start."

>   They started walking, enjoying the warm summer's day, but here, north of the Grey Spires, the land was cooler than Ord-Kurgad, and Athgar found himself shivering slightly. He pulled his tunic closer, warding off the chill wind that blew in from the distant mountains.

  "There'll be snow soon," he mused.

  "Don't be ridiculous," said Natalia, "it's still summer. You're just not used to this latitude." She saw the look of confusion on his face. "And by that, I mean we're farther north than you're used to."

  "I suppose we are. How does this compare to the Volstrum?"

  She laughed. "This would be a warm day in Karslev, not that I was allowed out much."

  "I much prefer smaller villages," Athgar noted. "Big cities make me uneasy."

  "For good reason. We've seen nothing but trouble when we visit one."

  "I hadn't thought of that, but you're right. First, there was Draybourne, where I was robbed."

  "Yes," she agreed, "but you met me, so it wasn't all bad."

  "True, but then we went to Corassus, where the Cunars tried to kill us."

  "Yes, but we went there looking for them, remember?"

  "Also true, but then there was Caerhaven, where, let me see if I remember correctly. That's right, they tried to kill us again!"

  "And we saved the Orcs," she said. "Don't forget that."

  "Maybe it's best if we never go to Ebenstadt. Someone's likely going to try and kill us."

  "Or," she retorted, "perhaps we'll visit the city, and everything will turn out well. You should try to be more positive."

  "I'll give it a try, but I can't promise anything."

  "That's all I can ask." Natalia was about to say more, but Athgar halted, his hand still clasping hers, causing her to turn to see what was wrong. He was staring at the ground and then knelt.

  "What is it?" she asked.

  "Tracks."

  "Another deer?"

  "No, Human. I suspect from our Therengian friends. It's relatively fresh, likely from today."

  "That means we're close. Tell me, what's the tradition of greeting a Therengian?"

  "I'm not sure what you mean," Athgar said.

  "Do we shake hands? Or is there some sort of ritual we must adhere to?"

  "Therengians are much like anyone else. How would you greet your fellow countrymen?"

  "My fellow countrymen are trying to kill me, remember?"

  "You know what I mean."

  "I do," she replied. "Very well, we'll greet them as we would any other Human we happen to find wandering around in the wilderness."

  Athgar barked out a laugh. "I suppose there is that. How does one go and explain our presence here without mentioning the Orcs?"

  "If anyone asks, we'll tell them we're looking for Ebenstadt. That was our original objective."

  "A good idea. Better to stick as close to the truth as possible."

  They continued on their way, following the tracks as best they could. The trail took them into the woods, where the scent of pine was strong. Natalia halted, resting her hand on a tree trunk to steady herself.

  "Is something wrong?" asked Athgar.

  "My back is sore," she said. "Must have been that hut they put us in. I wish Orcs had proper beds."

  "You never complained about them in Ord-Kurgad.”

  "The beds there were raised off the ground if you remember. Here, the Orcs prefer sleeping on the ground."

  "We were on furs," he reminded her.

  "Which lay on the ground. It's the same thing." She waved him on. "You go ahead. I'll catch up."

  "I don't want to leave you."

  "I won't be long. You can search out those footprints; see which way they go. I just need a moment to catch my breath."

  He stared at her, undecided.

  "Go," she urged.

  Athgar turned, searching the ground once more. The trail led him about an arrow's flight west, then turned north into a clearing. He looked across an open field to see a distant trail of smoke, evidence of a camp or village. He began backtracking his way to Natalia.

  * * *

  Natalia sat, feeling a sudden sense of vertigo. She wondered if the Orc food was causing it but quickly put such thoughts from her mind. Could she be ill? She had caught a fever back in Krieghoff. Was it now returning?

  The sound of snapping twigs caught her attention, and she stood, expecting Athgar's return. Instead, she found herself staring into the eyes of someone else, a man with grey eyes like her beloved. But where Athgar had brown hair and a thin, scruffy beard, this man had hair the colour of night, with thick facial hair to match.

  He stepped forward, his spear held loosely in his hand.

  "What have we here?" he called out.

  Another voice chorused in. "What is it, Brother?"

  A second, taller man emerged from the trees, with an axe in hand and a trio of rabbits slung from his waist.

  "It's a skrolling," said the first.

  "And a woman," noted the second.

  Natalia tried to back away, but the dizziness hit her again.

  "Trust you to find a woman in the middle of nowhere, Harwath."

  The shorter of the two moved closer, reaching out to touch her face. She fought off the dizziness, trying to summon a spell, but her body would have none of it. She collapsed back to the ground, her legs weak.

  "See how she reacts to my presence, Raleth?" said Harwath. "She is destined to be mine."

  "I think not," came Athgar's voice from behind them.

  They both whirled, Harwath instinctively raising his spear.

  "I wouldn't if I were you," said Athgar, his bow trained on the man.

  Raleth raised his hands. "We mean you no harm, friend. Is this your woman?"

  "She is my wife," he said. "I am Athgar of Athelwald, and this is Natalia."

  "Greetings, Athgar. I am Raleth, and this is my younger brother, Harwath. You must excuse his behaviour. We see so few skrollings in Runewald, particularly such pretty ones."

  "Skrollings?"

  "Outsiders," explained Harwath. He stepped closer, lowering his spear and peering into Athgar's eyes. "You are one of us," he declared.

  "I am a Therengian, if that's what you mean. I take it Runewald is your village?”

  "One of them," answered Harwath. "And yes, that is our home, at least for now."

  Athgar lowered his bow and unnocked the arrow. "Then I offer greetings."

  Raleth extended his hand. "An offer gladly accepted, friend."

  Athgar took it, noting the firm grip. "Is your village far?"

  "Not at all. It lies just north of here. Why don't you let us take you there?"

  "I-I should be glad to, but I must see to my wife first."

  He moved to Natalia, kneeling by her, concern written on his face.

  "I'm all right," she stammered. "Just a little dizzy."

  He felt her forehead but all seemed normal. "Come, let me help you up."

  She took his arm, rising to her feet. The woods began to sway, so she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, then letting it out slowly.

  "I'm fine," she announced. "Let us proceed."

  Athgar turned to Raleth. "Lead on," he said, "and show us this Runewald of which you speak."

  "Is your companion ill?" the hunter replied.

  "Just something I ate," said Natalia.

  Harwath shook his head. "Skrollings will eat anything. They should know better."

  Raleth punched his brother in the arm. "That's no way to show our hospitality. Show them the way, Brother." He fell in beside Athgar and Natalia as the younger man led the way. "You'll have to excuse Harwath. Your woman is the first real skrolling he's ever seen."

  "You have no contact with outsiders?" asked Athgar.

  "Not generally, and when we do, it usually means a fight."

  "You're at war?"

  "In a manner of speaking, yes," said Raleth, "but it would be better if our king explains."

  "You have a king?"

  "We do, King Eadred.
The villages are united under his leadership. He resides in Runewald. Would you like to meet him?"

  "I would," said Athgar. "I've never met a king before, let alone a Therengian one."

  "Did you say you were from Athelwald?" asked Raleth.

  "I did. Why?"

  "You are not the first person we've met who hails from that distant place."

  Athgar's heart skipped a beat, and he felt Natalia's grip on his arm tighten. He tried to sound uncaring, but his voice betrayed his emotions. "Who else have you met?"

  "A young woman, about the same age as you, along with an old crone."

  "Skora?"

  "Yes, do you know her?"

  Athgar turned to Natalia. "It looks like you'll get a chance to meet her after all. Who is this other woman? Is her name Ethwyn?"

  "No," replied the hunter, "Melwyn. We found them wandering in the woods last fall, nearly dead from starvation. We assumed they had escaped from the knights, but it turns out they were from across the mountains to the south."

  "They are from my village," said Athgar.

  "Wasn't Melwyn once betrothed to you?" asked Natalia.

  "Yes," he replied, then fell silent.

  "And you left her for this skrolling?"

  "It's a long story," Athgar said, "and Natalia is far more than just an outsider; she is a powerful mage."

  Raleth took a step to the side, putting some distance between them. "A mage, you say?"

  "Do not fear, we are friendly," said Natalia. "Have you no mages in Runewald?"

  "None," said Raleth, easing back into position. "It is forbidden."

  "By who?" asked Athgar. "Your king?"

  "No, by long tradition. Have you no knowledge of our ancestors?"

  "Very little, I'm afraid," said Athgar. "As I'm just now realizing, Athelwald was quite isolated."

  "Then you will, no doubt, be interested in meeting our bard, Dunstan."

  "You have a bard?" said Natalia. "How marvellous."

  "How is it you came to be in these woods?" asked Raleth.

  "We are searching for a place called Ebenstadt," she answered. "Do you know it?"