“Yes, exactly what we both know,” said Asher. “But the question is, why is this group going northwest? Why not straight to Ragnog? And why are they not using vehicles? It's like we've gone back five hundred years. Why are they staying off the roads?"
"Your actions make it difficult for me to share information with you, Orcslayer,” said Greenoak, looking at his son before gritting his teeth. “I can tell you this, though. I think we have a common enemy.”
“Yes, and who is that exactly?”
“We are not dealing with the dark forces of Ragnog. We are dealing with the Sons."
CHAPTER 16: THE SONS
Elena - Creek County, Oklahoma
Gorgon Bartok might have been full of hate, but his security measures were horrible; he had no military bearing, but was driven by hate. Elden had guarded Elena for hours, and now it was Ziles’ turn to watch her.
"So you are probably asking yourself, 'who are the Sons?' I can tell you with great conviction that the Sons will forever shape the history of your Sooner State. My question, Elf-daughter, how do you feel? You are now with us. You are now banished from the world of light, you live in sewer drains and in the woods. You make attempts to stay in the ghost towns of this beautiful state, but you are driven out. Do you not now see our plight? My people are hunted like animals. My people have been kept blind by a dark religion. We are in misery," said Ziles.
"If this is so horrible, why don’t you go back to the Old World?" asked Elena.
"Because as terrible as this existence is, it is still better than the Old World. Have you not watched the read any high fantasy novels?
Our souls cry out for a better life, and as of now it feels as though our cries have gone unanswered."
"But, don't, don't you eat people?" asked Elena.
"I see your confusion, Elvinmeyer," said Ziles. "And yes, that is true. Many of my kind feast on the flesh of men, elves, dwarves, and even of our own kind. But I do not think you understand the Sons' cause."
"What is it? What do the Sons want?"
"It is not obvious? Is it not self-evident? We, like all peoples, demand freedom. We want to shed this dark religion, we want to shed the tyranny and live in peace. Elden has saved us, and given us hope, do you not see this?"
"Elden? He terrifies me."
"And that he should. But does not Seth Adams terrify you? Do you not tremble with a reverent fear for the Walking Man? He is our enemy, and we long for his demise but we respect his tactical capabilities. You are wise to fear Elden, but do you not understand his indignation? Do you not see the root of his anger? It was he who brought us, poor and pitiful monsters, together. And from victims, he has turned us into conquerors. Man, elves, and even Ragnog itself, fear us."
"Ragnog. I have heard you mention that terrible town before. The Sons do not associate with Ragnog?"
"No, Elena. We, the Sons do not eat of human flesh. Cannibalism is not Son's practise. But Ragnog," Ziles shook his head, "Ragnog is what horror novels and slasher films were based on. Monsters crawling around the countryside, killing teenage campers, and offering human sacrifices to their Witch-Queen. No, we do not associate with Ragnog. We are disgusted by the cult of tyrant worship."
"But if you are so...humane, why stalk me? Why abduct me? You put lives at risk."
"Our lives are always at risk. We are not making any attempt to brainwash you, we want our story told, and we needed you...we needed you for a particular reason. But mark my words, my friend, while you are under the care of Elden, not one hair on your head shall be hurt."
".....minus the tazer of course."
"....minus the tazer of course. Stay close to us, and you will be safe."
His red eyes came closer to hers. She nodded.
"You are beginning to understand our cause, Elf-daughter."
“Speak of the devil,” whispered Elena softly.
There stood Elden Orkenkind and Gorgon Bartok.
"Mind yourself, elf," said Elden, "your actions almost got you killed, and worse than it you put my orcs in jeopardy and our cause at risk."
The great orc warrior clinched his fist, as he stared at Elena.
“Bartok!” cried Ziles.
“What do you want?” asked Bartok.
“Stop!” cried Elden, then the great orc turned to his protégé, “I’ll tell him.”
Elden then turned to Bartok, and the two senior orcs held a heated conversation. “What do you mean he forgot!” screamed Gorgon, his ugly voice breaking the silence.
Elena knew she was awake, and while she feared Elden more, she was currently intimidated by Bartok’s rage. Gorgon Bartok walked from his position to and thrust his finger into the middle of Ziles’ chest. He cursed violently using both the rough language and English.
“Well-well, what do I do?” stuttered Ziles.
“Well,” said Gorgon Bartok, before looking back at Elden, who shrugged. “Well, go back and get it! How can you forget a weapon?”
“Go back and get it?” asked Ziles.
“Yes!” screamed Bartok, his shrill voice piercing the night. “Go back and get it.”
Ziles nodded his head nervously. Elena was not sure why, but she felt the sudden urge to look back at Elden. Elden stood with his hands on his hips. When Gorgon Bartok was done screaming, Elena saw Elden nod his head in agreement. He nodded his head as if in some secret message that only he and Ziles understood.
“Go!” screamed Bartok.
Ziles left the formation and headed south, back to the place they had been. Bartok cursed in the foreign language and glared at Elden as he walked to the front. Elden stared back at him but, instead of intimidating Gorgon Bartok as he had before, he winced as if he was threatened. Bartok growled at him and then walked to the front. He started walking and Elena glanced at Elden who briefly smiled as if he knew the answer to a riddle no one else knew.
CHAPTER 17: THE ORCSLAYER
Chance - Creek County, Oklahoma
“Well, what do you propose now, Cries-For-War?”
"The Council links up with the Nomads, and we get Elena back. I do not believe they have seen you, so they will again keep their eyes on us. We'll use our playbook. The Sons will conduct reconnaissance against us, and then you can conduct counter-reconnaissance against them."
“What direction do you go now?” asked Greenoak.
Asher paused for a second. He knew the Elves could help, but he felt extremely uncomfortable about providing information to an outside source. The senior Nomad knew this mission meant killing orcs, and these representatives of the Older World would be motivated by that alone. The Elves would work to gather intelligence against the Nomads. He was aware of that, but he also knew the Council could be trusted to kill orcs.
"I have to meet Seth. I had to drop back for some..." he paused and tried to not make it visible, but his eyes went to Chance, before finishing his sentence, "...personal reasons."
Chance looked up at Asher and then cast his face away. His red eye swelling with emotion.
The younger Greenoak looked at Chance, and while he attempted to be subtle, his words could still be heard, “what’s wrong with his face anyway?”
The young elf was silenced by the intensity of Asher's glare. The way he had intimidated citizens in Henryetta came full force with the look he gave Greenoak. Asher pulled back his jacket, and his hand reached inside and pulled back. He revealed a tactical tomahawk and tossed the weapon from one side to the other.
"I don't know kid, but if you don't learn to watch your tongue, they're going to be asking what's wrong with your face,” said Asher.
The elder Greenoak looked at Asher with a grimace on his face. He was angered by Asher's threat but he knew he was right. Asher was not going to make it easy. Chance had been faced with his verbal backlash during training. Greenoak also knew what type of man Asher was. Asher was that tough breed of loyalty, where the mentor would train the student, and at times verbally berate him to make him see a point, but would never allow a
nyone else to say anything to any one of his students. Chance felt his heart grow warm as he saw his mentor defend him. He also felt an uneasiness in his stomach because he knew he had abandoned him and anytime soon, he would have to face Asher.
“Alright, Asher,” said Greenoak. He gritted his teeth as he tried to form the words he was about to speak. “You’re right. We will go with you. Follow you to Seth. We have a common enemy, and we would never want to see an elf-daughter hurt. We will follow you.”
They spread out, walking on the ground. Just as described in high fantasy, the elves were skilled at moving through the trees, but it would be too far to drive. Instead, they walked with Butch to the front, and Asher as the point behind it, Asher's dog went to the flanks. Asher and Chance, having previously worked together, formed a team to the front. And father and son team of Greenoak went to the rear.
For someone without tactical training this might not make sense, but it was obvious that the Nomads and the Council went to great lengths to ensure security and safety as they walked through the woods. From the Wildlife Refuge in Okmulgee, they continued north. Asher knew that Seth was only about a day and a half's trek away, but he assumed the distance had grown since they had broken contact. Seth had agreed to stay in pursuit of Elena, and Asher had consented to go back to check on Chance. Asher's old world dog could lead him straight to Chance, and then back to Seth.
Despite Asher's educational background and training, he knew Seth's skills as a tracker far surpassed his. The earth told a story to the old man, and there would not be any shaking of him from the trail. Asher could feel the Council's contention with their movement; Chance looked back as the Council continued forward. He had seen a new world exposed to him in the last few years of his life, but there were still things that surprised him. As the Council walked, there was never any broken blade of grass and nothing that the casual eye could see. He looked up at Greenoak’s face. There was the sternness he had seen in the old world creature's visage, but there was also something else. Asher had forced them into an agreement, in which they felt like they had less influence, and to Chance, a man who had studied psychological warfare, he knew this was significant. Asher had just successfully bullied a group of people who had remained untouched by humanity since the late 1800s.
Chance heard Greenoak say something very soft and in a foreign language. He looked back, and the elder elf-man was frozen, Chance did the same, and Asher followed suit. There was no deliberate hand-and-arm signal, but these two teams had worked together so frequently, they could almost read each other's thoughts. Asher went into a prone position with his weapon facing north, Chance went to the left, south of Asher, and Evan Greenoak went to opposite side and oriented his gun more to the south. The elder elf lowered himself to the ground and crawled to Asher.
Asher knew Greenoak was coming in his direction but was still shocked when the old world citizen placed his hand on Asher's shoulder. There had been no sound of movement, and then the elf's hand was on his shoulder. Asher tried to appear calm, but the surprise had made him want to jump out of his skin.
"I see Seth," said senior Greenoak. "I don't know if he sees us too, but I think he is prepared for you because he is not hidden. I see him because he lets us see him."
Asher turned his radio back on and put the plug back into his ear. There was the static fuzz, and then Asher heard Seth’s voice.
"I will go alone, and then I will bring you guys back. If you guys walk up on Seth, he might not respond in a way that you would...appreciate."
"Don't worry, Asher, we have nothing but respect for Seth. He is not someone I would want against me," said the father elf.
Asher nodded in acknowledgment and then crept forward. Chance saw Asher disappear into vegetation and he knew he had to pull security on his sector. He was curious to know what Asher was doing. Later, Asher reemerged from the woods, and approached Greenoak first before moving to Chance.
"Alright, Chance, we are about to link-up with Seth, I need you to be on the outside pulling security. This whole area stinks to high heaven, and we need to get off of it, but we have to check out some things first. I'll let you know what's going on, but first I need you and your men pulling security, while Seth and I go to work."
“What’s happened?” asked Chance.
“I wish I could tell you, but I’m a little confused myself.”
With that, Asher walked back to the front of the group, signaled them to stand up and to follow them. As they came in the area, Chance instantly felt his stomach churn in disgust as an unknown fragrance hit his nose. Seth led him to where he needed to go, and Chance could see Seth emplaced security. Chance overheard some back and forth banter, who were unaccustomed to taking orders, and Seth, being more diplomatic than Asher sold them the idea of pulling security. Greenoak nodded at the end of the conversation. His son took a position opposite of Chance, while Asher and Seth were in the center.
"Where is he?" asked Asher.
Seth Adams pointed to the poncho that was covered in foliage. Asher went to it and uncovered it. Underneath were two dead men. One was a white man wearing a Boston Celtics jersey, and the other an African-American wearing a Houston Astros shirt.
“Have you searched him?” asked Asher.
“Not yet,” said Seth, “I put out that fire, and then I was waiting on you.”
“How big was the fire?” asked Asher.
“The fire?” asked Seth, “It wasn’t that big, but it was spooky. It was green. I put it out, and there was so little left, I am not completely sure what it was. I think it was a backpack.”
“Why would someone like us, a group that’s living on their feet, throw away something that convenient?” asked Asher.
Asher's hand searched the body, starting from the head and working his way down. There, on the Irish Mob Gangster's chest was the word "Ragnog” crudely tattooed on his skin. He opened his jacket. Inside was an envelope written in a language he did not understand. The penmanship was immaculate, and it juxtaposed the rough appearance of the man. He continued searching and felt a plastic bag which he pulled out. The ziplock bag was full of pills.
“Zeta,” said Asher. He tilted his head back and smelt the air. “Whoever killed him -”
"Burnt all of his stashes," answered Seth.
"Why wouldn't they take it and sell it elsewhere?" asked Asher, "Seth, did one of our own kill this guy and burn Zeta?"
"No, we are the furthest Nomads north. Do you think it is one of the ones from the Older World?"
Seth looked over at Greenoak. The Council's warriors would not have set a fire in the woods, and they were indifferent to Zeta. They personally didn't consume it but did not appear to fight against it. "They would have shot him through the heart. It looks like it was blunt force trauma. The Council's warriors are lethal, but they aren't known to kill like that. Let me see the envelope."
“The letter was written in the language of the races of the elder men," said Seth.
“Who is the letter intended for? Does that mean, men of the older races are searching too?” said Chance.
“No, it does not,” said Seth, his answer short, and the hostility confused Asher, “many of them serve Ragnog. Let me read this, make sure Greenoak does not see me. They want to help, but I think their end result is different than ours.”
Seth opened the envelope and read through it.
“This cannot be!” said Seth, “This makes no sense.”
“What is it?”
"The author of this letter claims to be an orc..." Seth trailed off and shook his head.
"But what?" asked Asher.
"But it is the most polished writing I have seen in my life. It also appears to tell us why they are not going towards Ragnog. They are the Sons. He provided me with an eight-digit grid for a link-up."
"But don't the Sons worship darkness?"
"That is what I thought, but I don't know if that's true. The orcs want to talk to the Council."
“The Sons? Th
ey want to speak with the Council? But they are orcs, that doesn't make any sense. Won't you have to contact the Cat-Lady for this? You can't make this decision on your own, can you?" said Chance.
"The Cat-Lady is not here, she has entrusted me with the Nomads. My decision is backed by her authority." Said Seth.
Asher looked over at Greenoak and back at Seth.
“They would kill us if they knew what we were talking about. An open dialogue with orcs?"
Ragnog would never send an orc to speak to a man. If an orc is seeking to talk to men then it must not be of Ragnog."
“He gave us a location to meet him at."
“But how do we know it was directed at us?” asked Chance.
The Dark Lord of Oklahoma Page 19
