Inferno

by Paul J Bennett

  As she finished her spell, she felt a coldness enter her stomach, and then a wave of dizziness overcame her. Skora caught her arm as she wavered, steadying her.

  Athgar took a step forward, causing the others to back up farther. He turned his attention on the extinguished fire, and the flames leaped to life once more.

  "So," said the king, "it is true. The bloodline lives on. Mages have returned to the Therengians."

  "Returned?" said Athgar.

  Eadred appeared eager to make amends. "Come, let me tell you of our people's history, for they are your people as well."

  "What about me?" asked Melwyn, her eyes wide with fear at the magical display.

  "Athgar has made his choice known. You shall have to learn to live with it." He looked back at Athgar. "Shall we?"

  Athgar nodded, taking Natalia's hand and guiding her to his side. They both sat, Skora adjusting the furs for the expectant mother.

  "Tell me," said King Eadred, "what do you know of our people?"

  "Very little, I'm afraid," admitted Athgar.

  "Our ancestors carved out a kingdom the likes of which has never been seen since. We were mighty warriors then, with a rich culture based on trade. A far cry from our present circumstances."

  "What happened?"

  "Amongst our rulers were powerful mages much like yourself. They were the glue that held the realm together."

  "If that's true," said Athgar, "then why did it fail?"

  A sad look crossed the king's face. "Our history tells us it was the skrolling mages that defeated us. As the realm grew, so did its diversity. Soon, these outsiders curried favour with the king and wormed their way into his confidence. This is what led to the corruption of the ruling class. Then the thanes started fighting amongst themselves, weakening the kingdom even more. Once we started down that dark path, we were fair game for our enemies. The skrolling lands picked us apart bit by bit until we finally collapsed."

  "These skrolling mages you spoke of," asked Natalia, "were they Elementalists?"

  "That would be for the bard to recite."

  "Can we call him?" asked Athgar. "I should very much like to hear what he has to say."

  "Very well," said King Eadred. "Send for Dunstan."

  "I am here, my king," came a soft voice.

  "Make way for him," the king commanded. "Come, tell us of the fall of Therengia."

  "Of course, sire. Shall I accompany it with music?"

  "No," the king added quickly, "just the words if you will." He leaned in close to Athgar. "His singing isn't what it used to be."

  The bard began. "It is said that, at its height, there were no warriors more feared or respected than those of Therengia."

  "I suspect that was before the widespread use of heavy cavalry," said Natalia.

  The king looked at her in surprise. "What would a skrolling know of such things?"

  "I was trained as a battle mage," offered Natalia. "And as such, I am familiar with the history of knighthood."

  "Gods' teeth," said the king. "Knights are a scourge on us."

  The bard interjected. "May I continue, Lord King?"

  Eadred waved him on.

  "At the height of their power, the alliance covered an area half the size of the Petty Kingdoms."

  "Alliance?" said Athgar. "Who were they allied with?"

  "Why, the greenskins," noted Dunstan.

  "What's this now?" said the king. "I don't remember hearing that before?"

  "You never asked, my king."

  "I think you're making this up."

  "No, my lord, I swear to you the tale is just as written. I have told it many times before. Surely you remember?"

  "I do not remember Orcs being mentioned."

  "They are not, my lord, at least not directly. The ancient poems speak of the alliance, but there are other, less well-known stories that confirm the role the Orcs played."

  "Oh, yes?" said the king. "And what role was that? Slave?"

  The bard shook his head. "No, my king. The Orcs were trusted allies. The writings are quite clear on that."

  The king sat, dumbfounded.

  "Your Majesty," said Natalia. "Perhaps it can be so again?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "We understand you are under threat from a place called Ebenstadt."

  "We are," Eadred admitted. "They have been pushing us eastward for years. Why, the city itself is built on the remains of one of our villages."

  "Then maybe instead of confronting the Orcs, it is time you put aside your differences and seek common ground with them. If the skrollings threaten you, how long until the Orcs, likewise, come to their notice?"

  "You speak with wisdom, Water Mage. What is it you propose?"

  "Let us take an invitation to the Orcs. We can then settle your differences and learn to work together rather than remain at odds."

  "An interesting idea," noted the king, "but who here speaks the language of the greenskins."

  "I do," said Athgar, "and I have already met Kirak, their leader."

  "I shall give it some thought," said Eadred. "In the meantime, you are welcome here, Athgar of Athelwald. Long has it been since a mage of our own has trod this ground. A place shall be found for you."

  "And my wife?"

  The king cast a quick glance at Natalia. "Of course," he added grudgingly.

  "Might I ask a boon, Lord King?"

  Eadred roared out a laugh. "So bold! We have only just met, and yet already you ask a boon. Very well, go ahead. What is it you wish?"

  "Only the services of Skora to help the mother of my child."

  "Skora?"

  "Yes, the old woman from my village that serves your household?"

  "Oh, THAT old woman. Of course, consider her yours."

  "Thank you, Lord King." Athgar turned to Skora, who bowed knowingly.

  "Now, you have given me much to think on," the king continued. "I must have my peace."

  Eadred stood, prompting his guests to do likewise. Everyone began filing out, save the king and his guards.

  Athgar caught Skora's hand as they exited. "You are free to make your own decision, Skora. I would not have you a slave."

  "It is kind of you to say," the old woman replied, "but I shall look after your child in any event."

  "I like her," said Natalia.

  "Of course you do," Skora said. "What's not to like? And wait until you've tasted my porridge."

  "With maple?"

  "My dear, you can have anything you like with it."

  * * *

  At the king's insistence, they were given a spare hut that had belonged to a hunter who had perished in the continual skirmishing with the skrollings. Having sat empty for almost a year, the structure required some repairs, but Athgar soon had it in good shape.

  Once their new home was put to rights, he went out hunting with Raleth and Harwath. Using the skills he had learned from the Orcs, he bagged two deer, making him the talk of the village. Skora soon showed she had not forgotten how to dress a carcass.

  Life began to settle down for the pair of them, and yet still, they waited for King Eadred to make a decision. Towards the end of the month, when Athgar had returned from gathering yet more wood, Natalia sat watching him as he carefully placed it atop the flames.

  "I've been thinking," she said.

  "Oh? What about? Me, I hope?"

  She smiled. "That, too, but no, I was considering what they said about Therengia."

  "About its fall, you mean?"

  "Yes. There's something about it all that's been nagging at me."

  He paused, stick still in hand. "Go on."

  "I think it might have been the family," she said. "Or at least what later became the family."

  "What makes you say that?"

  "It sounds like just the kind of thing the family would do. The Stormwinds and Sartellians have been sending people to courts for generations."

  "Yes," Athgar agreed, "but it's only natural, isn't it? That's where the real
riches are."

  "It's more than that," Natalia said. "I think they do it for power. Imagine the influence an experienced mage could have on a ruler."

  "So you think these 'outside mages' were predecessors to the family?"

  "I do, though I have no proof."

  "And if they were?" asked Athgar. "Why would they wish to collapse the kingdom? Surely they would want to maintain their influence? Destroying them would do just the opposite."

  "I think that was unintentional. I think they were trying to use their power and influence without securing their positions first. The whole thing turned on them when they lost control."

  "How does that help us now?"

  "I don't think it does," Natalia admitted, "but if this is true, they might be the real power behind many of the Petty Kingdoms."

  "I'm no expert on the Continent, but aren't the Petty Kingdoms constantly fighting amongst themselves?"

  "Yes, and yet, still, I think there might be a connection."

  "I suppose it's not outside the realm of possibility," he said. "How would you confirm or deny such an idea?"

  "I'd have to travel to the hall of records in the Volstrum." She held up her hands. "Don't worry, I'm not seriously considering it."

  "Good," he said, sitting beside her and placing his hand upon her stomach, "because I am not risking you or our child for such a thing."

  "Are we doing the right thing, Athgar?"

  "What? Having a child? Of course we are."

  "I'm happy to hear you say that, but no, I meant taking on this fight between the Orcs and Therengians. Can we really bring peace to them?"

  "Yes," he replied, "provided the king makes up his mind sometime in our lifetime."

  "He doesn't seem very decisive."

  "Skora warned us," Athgar said.

  "So she did."

  Refuge

  Summer 1104 SR

  * * *

  (In the tongue of the Orcs)

  * * *

  The Orcs of the Red Hand descended into an ancient forest, populated by giant spruce trees that reached far above them. There was little in the way of undergrowth here, save for moss and the ever-present rocks worn smooth by the passage of time. Kargen finally called a halt, letting the exhausted members of the tribe collapse to the ground.

  "We must find water," he said.

  "I shall take Durgash and search the area," said Laruhk.

  "Be careful. We are in unknown territory. Who knows what dangers may lurk here?"

  "Look around, the trees thrive. There must be plenty of water for them to reach such heights."

  Kargen looked skyward. "There is certainly no lack of wood in these parts."

  Shaluhk looked up from where she sat with Agar. "Is this, then, to be our new home?"

  "For now it is merely a resting place," answered her bondmate. "We can not make that decision until we have thoroughly explored the area."

  "In any event," added Laruhk, "we have seen no trace of the Humans."

  "Not yet," his sister added, "but we have seen little of the area at this time."

  "She speaks the truth," said Kargen. "I would not tarry here were it not for our exhaustion."

  "This place has its blessings," noted Shaluhk, examining a moss-covered stone. She held it up for his inspection. "Look, warriors moss. It looks like it grows here in abundance."

  "And yet the lack of vegetation would suggest there is little in the way of game. I fear we must move farther north before we find sufficient food."

  "But first the tribe must rest," cautioned Shaluhk.

  "Yes, as long as we discover some water."

  "We shall find it," said Laruhk. "The Ancestors would not have guided us here to our death." He trotted off, calling out to Durgash as he went.

  "My brother is tired," said Shaluhk.

  "As are we all," said Kargen, "but if we are to survive, we must find a way to persevere. Tell me, is any of this moss edible?"

  "Yes," she answered. "Over there is elk moss. It can be eaten raw, but some find it unsettling. It is best when boiled until soft."

  "And that will sustain us?"

  "In the short term, yes, but a tribe of our size requires a lot of it."

  "Then locate those who can identify it, and gather what you can while I go and seek to comfort the sick and weak."

  "That is my burden," said Shaluhk, "for I am the shaman of this tribe and its healer."

  "True, and yet your knowledge of moss is more important at this time. Once we have fed them, you shall have your chance to see to their well-being."

  * * *

  It didn't take long for Laruhk and Durgash to find water, for many streams trickled into the area, fed by the snow-capped peaks. In the end, a small pond proved the easiest to reach, and so the weary travellers picked up their meagre belongings and made the trek to this new-found source of life.

  Now, their thirst slaked, they partook of boiled moss, a somewhat tasteless concoction that, nonetheless, provided some welcome relief from hunger.

  That evening, Kargen felt the tribe had recovered enough to hold a meeting. Lacking any huts, they gathered at the water's edge, campfire providing enough light to stave off the coming darkness.

  As Kargen stood, the tribe fell silent. "We have come far," he started, "through the Human lands, that have since fallen into war, and past the mountains. Now we are amongst trees once more, though they are far different from what we are used to. The time has come to make some decisions, decisions I can not make alone."

  He began pacing back and forth, occasionally looking at his tribe, but mostly just staring into the fire. "Our Ancestors have led us here, but now we must carve out our own fate. My question to you is whether we stay here or continue farther north?"

  An elderly Orc stood, a sign he wanted to address the tribe.

  "Yes, Dulok?"

  "You have led us here through thick and thin, Kargen, and you have weighed the choices you have set before us this day. Tell us, what can we expect if we stay or if we leave this place?"

  "A good question," noted Kargen. He swept his gaze over the tribe, noting all the eyes that were locked onto him. "Here we have water aplenty and much wood to rebuild a village, but there is scant evidence of game in the area. If we stay, I fear it may restrict our diet to nothing but moss and fish"—he looked at the pond—"provided such can be found here. On the other hand, there is no guarantee things will get better as we travel farther north. The truth is we have scant knowledge of this area."

  "And what of our shamaness?" asked Dulok. "What does she think?"

  Shaluhk rose, passing off Agar to her brother. "We can not survive on moss and water alone. Trying to do so would make us weak and sickly. We know there are other tribes in this area somewhere, and that means sufficient hunting to sustain a village. I propose we continue this trek until we have found a new home."

  Dulok nodded his head, then sat, allowing others to speak should they wish.

  Kragor stood, his treasured warbow clutched in his hand. "We elected you chieftain, Kargen. You have led us through adversity to this place of relative safety. We can not stay here; Shaluhk has said as much, and so I say we go north, deeper into the forest. Surely, once we are beyond the mountain's feet, game will be found aplenty."

  "I thank you for your words," said Kargen, "though I daresay your bow has seen better days."

  The Orcs all chuckled, for the snow had not been kind to the warbows of the Red Hand.

  "Normally," Kargen said, "we would take a vote, but our stones have been lost, along with our home. Let us then raise hands to indicate our choice."

  He sat, leaving Shaluhk to continue. "All those in favour of moving on, raise your hand." She moved amongst them, counting. "Put down your other arm, Durgash. Only the one may be counted."

  Her task finished, she resumed her position at the head of the fire. "The tribe has spoken with a clear voice. We shall head north and seek out better hunting grounds."

  The Orcs began bea
ting the ground with their fists, their sign of agreement. Kargen waited for it to die down before rising again. "We shall resume our journey in two days. Until then, we must regain our strength and gather what water and food we can. In the meantime, I shall send hunters ahead to seek out a suitable path for us to follow. Unless there are others who wish to speak, this assembly is over."

  The tribe rose, drifting off to different parts of the camp. A number of Orcs came forth giving Kargen words of encouragement and support, but his mind was elsewhere. He finally sat, staring at his son as the youngling played with his wooden axe.

  "What are you thinking, bondmate?" asked Shaluhk.

  "I am wondering what kind of future Agar will have."

  "The tribe will prosper," she said, "and one day, he will be a chieftain, like his father."

  "How can you be so sure that things will end so well?"

  "I have faith," she replied.

  "You believe the Ancestors will save us?"

  "No, I have faith in you."

  * * *

  The tribe resumed their march with little fanfare. Hunters had already scoured the area, confirming that game was virtually non-existent. Still, at least the travel was easy, for the land was relatively flat and devoid of any major obstacles aside from the massive trees. Several times Kargen sent hunters up into the boughs, their objective to ascertain how far they could see, but the green canopy appeared to stretch on endlessly.

  For days they travelled, determined to find a new home. After a ten-day, they found the first signs of game, and Laruhk managed to bring down a deer. It was not enough, once split amongst the tribe, but the forest floor promised much more. The undergrowth veritably exploded, providing a source of nuts and berries along with a myriad of plants that could augment their diet.

  They grew stronger each day, lifting their spirits immeasurably. Occasionally the forest would open onto a field, allowing the warmth of the sun to make itself felt. At these times, the tribe would halt, sending out hunters to seek food while they rested.