Miller, Half-Orc

by J R Marshall

  I watched fascinated as the prisoner’s flaying feet disappeared, drawn within, but the screams continued for perhaps three more minutes, and I wanted a scion of this plant.

  Could it be grafted or planted in a pot of blood? I would buy the cutter a few drinks, and waiting, I watched until he had finished his business, and followed him.

  CHAPTER 9

  Mountains rose in the distant west, scarcely visible through the trees, and an open fire made with some skill and ringed with stones was placed at the entrance of a temporary makeshift shelter. Primitively constructed thatch lay atop boughs bent down and fastened with ropes, the fire slightly under cover of the awning was protected from the light rain and prevailing wind.

  Three goblins tended the flames, a deer skewered on a spit dripping fat and being roasted, rotated by the smallest of the three.

  An orc belched as he wiped his jaw free of fat and beer, chunks of crudely cut venison lay on a clean rock that served as a plate and he looked at the sky, it would be night time soon. The crescent of a new moon could faintly be seen.

  “We’ll pack up in a few hours,” said the orc, “we need to rejoin the others.” The goblins dressed in animal hides grinned and one, getting up, disappeared into the undergrowth.

  The orc’s clothes were of a decent hard-wearing quality, leather britches, filthy cloth shirt and a sleeveless wast coat made from well tanned hide, a deep and broad belt, boots in need of waxing and a fine iron scimitar. He needed a wash, but would brush up well, for living outdoors was hard on clothing.

  Flukaggrrr had a reputation for keeping discipline, and he had captured these goblins who like wild animals could be trained and thus it had been one year since they came into his service. They had prospered, the four of them, raiding farmsteads, murdering stragglers and picking on travellers, gleaning a modest living; even the goblins were allowed to keep some of the winnings, albeit of no great value, but they lived reasonably well and didn’t starve.

  Now they had allied with another larger but less efficient band of some seven orcs, who fought and quarrelled amongst themselves so much that they succeeded in very little, but Flukaggrrr was a proficient warrior and was trying to unite the party, albeit two within the larger group resisted his leadership, and he intended to get rid of them.

  Tonight they would attack; joining forces, he would cower most and suggest a good plan. Ultimately they would agree, but discord and ill discipline would hamper their success. The goblins, knowing they would gain little without Flukaggrrr’s leadership always stayed close to their master.

  They were in this area spying on a group of woodsmen, who lived within a fortified palisade, comprising an earth bank ringed with stakes, normally too formidable to assail, but Flukaggrrr had captured a boy, one of the woodsmen’s children scarce eight years old and he lay bound with a cloth gag stuffed in his mouth.

  The small group delayed until it was dark, approximately three hours after sundown. The campfire having been extinguished and all provisions packed and made ready, they headed north east, the four of them with an infant walking tied by his hands to a rope so he couldn’t flee, terrified for his future. The party could see with perfect night vision, better even than half-orcs.

  Flukaggrrr would ransom the boy and ultimately betray the men, it would be a night of slaughter, but he also intended to be rid of his two quarrelsome and rebellious peers thus he hoped to gain the mastery of an enlarged group.

  Stalyk and Crar along with the others hid watching Flukaggrrr’s party return, but, and Flukaggrrr cursed, they were so damned inept that he could smell them downwind.

  “Crulzoll will be furious,” he muttered. The orc god of cunning would be apoplectic, for Stalyk’s group were useless, badly led. Even despite the wood fire that they had failed to hide he knew of their location, so bloody incompetent.

  Still, they had their captive, and the woodsmen knew that two orcs would appear offering to ransom the child for six silver pieces and various provisions. For Flukaggrrr had betrayed Stalyk and Crar, informing the woodsmen of the exchange but adding that the two orcs would suddenly draw weapons and try to murder the twelve fortified men.

  If the plan worked, and he was sure it would, the six silver pieces would be the least of their plunder, plus it solved his leadership problem.

  Stalyk and Crar were to be the sacrifice, the feint, whilst the rest of the party would attack from the rear. They would die hard, taking a few of the enemy with them, all to the best, and their greed meant no one else would be allowed to parley, especially Flukaggrrr the goblin-loving orc.

  So it proved to be, Stalyk and especially Crar were formidable warriors in their own right yet lacked intelligence and wisdom. Even a fox with the wits of a frog could sense danger, or treachery, yet these two insisted despite Flukaggrrr’s feigned pleading to be allowed to negotiate as he had captured the boy. In the end the two forced the issue with threats that only they would secure the reward.

  To their credit they managed to kill five woodsmen and caused such a stink and commotion that the nine led by Flukaggrrr attacking from the rear were unopposed, scaling the fence with a proficiency enhanced by adrenaline, blood pumping, fear clenching their guts. The woodsmen, realising their mistake too late became surrounded.

  In the end half of the woodsmen escaped into the night, taking women and children, for Flukaggrrr wanted to secure his group knowing he would lose orcs and goblins in a fight he might not win.

  Perversely, in spite of the bloodshed the child survived, at least to that point. What became of the woodsmen was an irrelevance, they weren’t worth pursuing, for their wealth was now Flukaggrrr’s. He had five orcs, three goblins, himself, and a small stronghold.

  CHAPTER 10

  The hedge cutter couldn’t be persuaded to sup ale with me despite my attempts to bribe him with a fine meal and as much beer as he could drink. In the end it proved to my advantage, at least financially, for he explained that many had essayed to cultivate the hedge without success.

  “It’s like chopping your arm off, and hoping your body will become two,” he laughed slightly, “two mighty half-orcs where only one existed before.”

  “So the hedge is a living creature, not a plant?” I asked, for his explanation seemed reasonable.

  “I don’t know, perhaps it’s magical, but many have tried, it can’t be done.”

  And with that knowledge, I headed back to the Water Rat, satisfied with the day, but mindful not to get too drunk, for tomorrow would be difficult.

  During the night I awoke to the sounds of a disturbance outside but being on the first floor I fell back to sleep, content when someone shouted for the night-watch and declared themselves a victim of robbery. I cared not for troubles that hid in shadows, it was a reminder to be careful.

  It wasn’t a great night’s sleep, and as a cockerel crowed I sat awake. These birds with the slightest hint of dawn seem to compete with each other to be the first to declare the new day, yet as I opened the shutters looking down into the street for any remnant of the night’s troubles, my vision still in greyscale, I wondered if the bird had simply pre-empted dawn for the sun would not rise above the horizon for at least an hour and the damned creature was surely premature.

  Tam had said ‘first light’ so I dressed, although as winter was fast approaching I hadn’t slept naked and making myself fit and ready for the day poured water over my head, flattened and combed my hair, and wondered whether I should remove my weak and scant beard.

  The innkeeper like in Cragtor had opened the door, so stepping outside I sat on a bench, and watched the town come to life. I wasn’t the first to stir.

  Guards would be changing shifts, bakers would already have stoked fires for their ovens, the scent of wood smoke lingered over the town as the air was cold and still.

  A boy ran round the corner, a bridle in his hand; others were tending horses and tack, rubbing down and feeding animals. The activities of the day were pressing, for daylight hours were reduced
and much needed to be done in the shortened time.

  Pulling my cloak tight and looking for a cord that would further protect me from the chill dawn, I waited patiently.

  Tam arrived flanked by two guards, men in the employ of Grimnir for they wore his emblem, and seeing me she thanked the men who bowed low, quickly glancing in my direction yet taking their leave of her.

  “Hello Miller.” She touched my face, running her hand over my new scar, greeting me with affection and enquiring as to my well-being. “Is your accommodation on the ground floor? For you know we cannot hear the song in rooms above.”

  I didn’t know that, though with hindsight I had merely forgotten, yet it rang a bell, there was something her words reminded me of but I couldn’t remember till later in the afternoon.

  “No, I’m on the first floor, sorry! I hadn’t thought you would come here, security was my initial concern.”

  “No matter, we can hire a room for the day.” She pulled her hood down over her eyes, hiding her face. “Will you please make the arrangements? We mustn’t be disturbed.”

  The innkeeper didn’t hesitate as I paid silver for a room with no intention to stay the night. It was hardly unusual, though he looked at the size of my guest and wondered if it was appropriate.

  Entering the room, I closed and bolted the door, secured the shutters and lit the sole, solitary lamp. Tam placed a cushion on the floor and sat down, throwing her hood back and facing me, the light of the lantern dancing across her face, like so many times before when she had taught me craft by the light of a candle whilst visiting at night.

  “When you’re ready.” And she held my left hand, sensing my trepidation. “I’ll go first ready to catch you, I am prepared, you won’t fall.”

  I watched as she became still, aware that even with her advanced skill she maintained but a slight conscious awareness of her surroundings, knowing that that was more than I could achieve for when listening to the earth’s song I would be oblivious to this chamber and the passage of time.

  My mind prepared, steeling myself for the experience I had always until recently enjoyed, my right hand reached down, palm pressed flat. The earth murmured to me and I let myself fall.

  Down I was drawn, oblivious to space and time, no longer part of the room but now surrounded by beautiful sounds. Swiftly I flew across oceans of thought, my mind capable of the most magnificent imaginations, music playing in visual symphonies of colour, sound becoming combined with my senses so that I could hear words as colours, the power of craft, the energy contained in the earth spoke to me, imploring gently to be gathered. I could see how to fashion spells, joining parts that formed an array, the intricate connecting energies that when combined created the power needed to actions spells upon awakening.

  There were also voices deep down, I could hear them, living entities speaking to one another; I could sense their presence, distant yet alluring, strangely fathomable, yet two others travelled with me. I knew what they spoke, one was Tam’s yet the other I had no experience nor comprehension of, yet I knew a name… ‘Sandy’. There was an intense bond between my two companions.

  Tam’s mind enquired as to my comfort.

  This wasn’t it, the differences to my last experience were profound; this was normal, perhaps a little stronger, but not like the dread experiences I’d felt in Cragtor nor on the road to Hedgetown.

  She knew my thoughts, and I with partial comprehension of hers felt an emotional tug from the earth, as we started our ascent. Passing altered realities, I emerged into the room, happy yet perplexed.

  Tam took a few more minutes, and waking she smiled, she always smiled.

  “Not what you were expecting, Miller?” she asked as I looked her in the eye. “You did seem to have an improved synergy to the music, did it trouble you?”

  “No! No, it was almost normal.” I looked earnestly at her. “You could sense I was comfortable, you read my thoughts,” and worried that I had summoned a friend needlessly, “Cragtor and Grimnir’s tent were wholly different…”

  Tam, got up stretching her legs, and asked me to explain once more the difference. “Was it speed, intensity, lack of control?”

  “Oh, Tam.” For I was dismayed the experience hadn’t been repeated. “It was all of them, but ultimately yes, lack of control,” and then I added, “but you were with me, you must allow me to fall, to see how terrible it is.”

  “I didn’t exercise any resistance, neither constraining, nor interfering with your journey.”

  She spoke with sincerity. “You were unencumbered, I simply observed, travelling with you, you and I.”

  “And…” And I pondered whether to say a name, knowing that I knew a secret, but she was my ally, and there was something wrong. “You have a guide in craft, don’t you?” And I knew that was expected as a safe bet. “If I knew a name would it upset you?”

  “It would depend on how discreet you were, for I doubt anyone but myself knows.” She was curious, not angry. “If you have a name,” for she sensed my thoughtfulness and care, my concern for her well-being, “I would allow you to say it.”

  “Sandy.” And as I said the word, I sensed a presence, yet deep within the ground, and Tam laughed.

  “Oh, by the all the gracious spirits, Miller, my most wonderful of young friends, and I hold you as a friend.” She grinned and looked glorious. “How remarkable. Yes, I have an ally by that name, though it is not his true name, a fabrication on my part.”

  She held up her hand, “Wait, a moment,” and laughing some more, she touched the ground and I sat there watching and waiting for her return, a return to wakefulness.

  Ten minutes passed, and Tam opened her eyes once more. “Say the name again, please Miller.”

  And as I did, I felt the presence once more, and Tam held her hand up. “Did you feel that?”

  I nodded, and said I did.

  “Remarkable, truly remarkable and unexpected… Watch, but do not be alarmed, do not worry or feel afraid,” and she whispered so gently, “Sandy!”

  Without cracking or disturbing the stone flags, yet pushing rugs to one side, rose a shape as of a giant roughly hewn man, corporeal, fluid, yet like molten lava without heat, quickly forming and filling half the room.

  The massive creature had an appearance of falling earth and rocks cascading down a mountainside, a bank of scree let loose as tumbling water over the sides of a cliff, yet never landing, continually replenishing itself, shimmering as the outline changed ever so slightly, bewildering the eye.

  “This, is Sandy, my ally, who you can strangely sense…”

  Sandy spoke, and as he did the earth shook, words were so deep, so long in uttering he seemed to rumble as an earthquake. “Under the ground in my domain…”

  “Sandy…” Tam interrupted, “we’ll meet in Cragtor, in two hours, in my deep room, we’ll talk then, or you will raze this building.”

  I watched in awe; this tremendous elemental of the ground, who towered over Tam and to some extent myself was incredible to behold, yet I sensed the intimate affection they held mutually between themselves. Even now whilst I couldn’t hear thoughts, I could sense an emotional empathic connection, that they would never forsake one another.

  Sandy tarried for a moment and as he drew back into the ground an arm like a tree trunk touched me, as granite rubbing gently on the heel of a foot it felt course yet not cutting; he slowly slid down into the earth.

  Tam and I talked about assistants, allies in craft, and how they’re found, how initially friendships are formed, of how the empathic link is forged, tenuous at first but growing stronger with the years.

  “Sandy had been scarcely a heap of earth little more than a mole hill when first he appeared above ground,” Tam said, and dwelt for a while in thought, reminiscing, looking back, as recalling a distant memory.

  “Yet now he’s an elder amongst his kind, venerable, though he will live for many many more years, for the connection was made whilst we were both young.”

&n
bsp; “There are benefits for both.” And Tam explained that each gained a longevity of years beyond their kind. “But more for the companion than the sorcerer.”

  I wondered for she so seldom used the word ‘sorcerer’.

  “The sorcerer’s companion must be willing, and of a like mind, for whilst it’s not a marriage, each must nonetheless be content, more than content, and more than comfortable. Sandy had to be eager to share my company.” She became silent, deep in thought.

  “And what type of companions are there?” I asked, for whilst I had asked this question before, it had seemed like high craft and not likely to affect me.

  Tam pondered, wondering how to answer, perhaps contemplating if she imparted too much information.

  “Most are elementals from the ground, others of wind and fire, yet some are hidden entities from different worlds, and rarer still are those that walk with you during your dreams.” She looked at me and said, “Others are on different planes capable of craft, some are demons, and even rarer and fortunately scarce,” and she faltered, “some are so evil, so wretched and filled with hate… enemies of life, seeking to consume, even their… even such as you,” and I could see she was troubled in the advice… “yet most are spirits of the earth.”

  “Are they a form of familiar?” I asked, worried it might be a stupid question, for until now I had imagined such creatures were simply the fancies of children’s stories, and not for the first time would reality be hidden in tales.

  “Really Miller? There are no such things.” Her laughter broke the seriousness of the discussions.

  Now I wasn’t going to let the matter drop so lightly, and I pressed home my question. “Are there no such things as witches? And even in children’s tales there is sometimes a modicum of truth.”

  “Witches or wise women? Who happen to own a cat? There are no familiars, but yes if you like, entities that assist with the earth song might be considered such. But ultimately no!”