WORRLGENHALL

by Luke, Monica

  “No one has pleased me as you do,” Ogorec’s answer between panting breaths, “So ravished and sore you leave me each time.”

  About to speak again, Ogorec stopped and panted as his groin tingled.

  “Ogorec,” Ovfren urged. His pace now hard and fast, “Speak, what words were about to come from you?”

  “These,” Ogorec grimaced fighting to hold within his want to explode. “Should I spill? Ah, should I?”

  “No, hold it within!” Ovfren cried out, “It is to soon.”

  “The feel is to great!” Ogorec panted; then gasped.

  “Shall I make you plead?” Ovfren moaned, as he thrust deeper, but slowed his pace, “And beg for release?”

  “I beg now!” Ogorec clinched his teeth unable to wait, “A geyser is about to come out of me. I am trying to hold it… but.”

  “Release it!” Ovfren’s passionate words now at his boiling point too.

  “Ovfren!” Ogorec could only cry out, and his fist clinched beneath the earth where he laid, “Ovvv …”

  Ovfren let out groaning breaths, as he felt his whole body shudder, then calm, only to suddenly shudder again.

  “With a wild fury I fill what is mine,” he blurted between them.

  “I have no strength to lift even a feather,” Ogorec confessed content and fulfilled caring nothing of returning, as his mouth opened wide with pants. His hands hidden in the earth beyond the blanket, each wave made him geyser more and did his hands into the dirt.

  “As is mine.”

  Both panted, and remained silent while they regained their breath. “Madness,” finally, Ovfren mustered enough air in his lungs to speak, still spurting his release into Ogorec, “Dare I love you to madness?”

  “Swear to love me such that death can only part us,” Ogorec begged, as he lay limp, “Swear.”

  His body now sprawled over Ogorec’s body, Ovfren moaned. “Until I am dust.

  Chapter 15

  Baric hastily dressed; then called out to the guilds outside his tent.

  “Once she returns with my son,” he commanded, “Let no one take them from this tent, and I mean no one.”

  “Yes, my lord,” they understood fully.

  “Wake the other guilds not on guard,” he then commanded, “With haste we may need to leave this place.”

  Obeying, he hurried to the tent where the guilds slept and many in the arms of woman sleeping soundly, no time for drawn out rousing, shouted loudly to wake them all at once.

  “On your feet!” his shout, “And prepare!”

  The men sprang awake, moving sleeping women aside, as they got off furs and pillows.

  “What is wrong?” one asked.

  “Lord Baric gave no reason,” he said, and turned.

  When the guilds guarding Baric’s tent saw a woman with a child hurry towards him, one opened the flap to the tent to allow them inside tent, and after she looked at him, he nodded; then closed the flap behind her and stood guard to protect her.

  “Are they safely inside and are the men ready?” Baric asked, as he rode back in front of his tent, and looked at them.

  After an affirming nod, he had another guild sound the horn to alert the seventy-foot men just outside the Gemon camp.

  “My lord,” another guild alerted, who hurried beside him after he blew the horn.

  “Ogorec and the other guild Ovfren are still not back.”

  “Still?” Baric questioned, as he looked to the sun rising, “We cannot wait. If they do not return soon, send someone to search for them.”

  The man nodded; then fell back behind Baric on his horse.

  Quietly, all guilds gathered, with Baric at the lead, and rode to Gemon’s tent.

  “Why did I hear a horn and what is the meaning of you gathered in front of my tent?” Gemon questioned, awakened by the horn, as well as by his two guards who stood on either side of him.

  “I have found the one I sought,” Baric answered, getting right to the point, as he looked down at Gemon.

  “Awwhh,” Gemon said, as he raised his chin, “Then shall we speak of a wager for her?”

  “We shall,” Baric said, “Yet whatever we decide will be two for that of one.”

  Puzzled, Gemon looked at Baric; then those lined behind him.

  “I do not know what you mean,” he replied, “And I fear I may not want to.”

  “Then I will be forthright,” he said, as he straightened his back, “I have found the one I sought and will take her with me, as well as the child.”

  “Who?”

  “Ecia”

  “Who?”

  “The slave you know as Ara and her son.”

  “You cannot, I have a claim to him,” Gemon professed, “If I had not allowed her to live among us, she would be dead by now, and the child as well.”

  “I will not take one without the other,” Baric assured him.

  “Then take no one!” Gemon blared.

  “They will go with me,” Baric said defiantly.

  As Baric spoke, the guilds began to move from the line behind him and put themselves into groups.

  “Give me your price for them,” Baric said, trying to be fair at least.

  Unafraid, Gemon looked at Baric, then again past him at the men on horses. All looking well fit and fearless, he paid attention how they watched him closely, as well as all around him, as their hands griped the hilts of their swords.

  “I cannot give you the boy,” he said, resolved, “He was born on the night of a rare moon.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  “Needless bloodshed for a boy,” Gemon wouldn’t answer, and asked one of his own, “What is he to you?”

  “The son of the mother,” Baric only offered.

  “The boy has been sworn, I cannot give him to you.”

  His voice still even, calmly Baric began to speak, and kept his voice low.

  “Why?”

  “He belongs to Zol as a gift,” Gemon now answered, “Our moon god.”

  Baric straightened his back, and his eyes slanted, as a loathing rose deep within him.

  “You are one of those clans who spill the blood of the innocent.” Baric spewed and spit on the ground, “Vile you are in my eyes for such deeds and no better than the waste that comes out of you.”

  As he spoke his insult to Gemon, one of his men drew his sword and stepped forward growling at Baric, and without an order, Cered who was just behind Baric launched his spear at him striking him just below his heart killing him.

  “Dare we let such filth live, my lord?” he questioned outraged, ready to kill every one of them, “Let us lay waste to them all, men and women.”

  “Gemon!” Baric flared, as he unsheathed his sword, “Cursed I am if I allow such wickedness to go on among you. Evil is this practice of sacrificing children.”

  In an instant, Gemon went from unafraid to afraid, as he looked at the scowl on Baric’s face, and knowing his men outmatched theirs not by number, but by their skill of battle, now tried to appease Baric.

  “Take the boy,” he quickly relinquished his perceived right to him.

  “And have you put another in his place?” Baric flared, “Dare you bring a curse upon me?”

  **

  Absorbed with passion, neither had heard the earlier warning horns, and oblivious of what went on in the camp, Ovfren and Ogorec casually rode back.

  Trotting alongside the other, they raced playfully, but just as Ovfren moved slightly ahead of Ogorec, he suddenly and let out an anguished groan.

  “What is wrong?’ Ogorec asked, noticing how he had suddenly Ovfren slumped.

  “An arrow has struck me!” Ovfren grimaced, and then groaned again as he grabbed his side; then looked at his blood soaked hand.

  Ogorec rushed to his other side to look at his wound.

  “This will hurt,” he warned, and quickly broke off the end of the arrow and pushed the other half through him.

  “Aauuuh, it found its place well!” Ovfren grunted loud
ly; then looked ahead, and when he did, he saw the guilds lined. “Something has gone wrong…”

  Ogorec looked ahead too, then back at Ovfren. “So it seems.”

  Ovfren’s wound bleeding, Ogorec pulled him off his horse and looked around for a place to move him; then when he saw several large rocks close by, guided him there while making him lean on his shoulders.

  “Rest upon the rocks!” he ordered, as he helped him walk.

  “I can still ride!” Ovfren insisted, while letting most of his weight rest on Ogorec.

  “You are bleeding more.” Ogorec noticed when they reached the rocks, as he kneeled next to him and tore his cloak, then began wrapping it around Ovfren’s waist, “And you will stay here.”

  “Ogorec,” Ovfren said; his face close to his, “Be watchful.”

  “You speak as a worried woman would,” he said, now tying cloth tight to stop the bleeding for the time being.

  “Need I speak of this worry you are making over me?” he questioned, “As a woman would do. I can ride and fight. My wound is a small one.”

  “Ovfren,” Ogorec said. His voice firm, and from his look, Ovfren knew not to defy him, “Do not move from this place. It is a command.”

  Hiding his pain, Ovfren let his body slump more on against the rocks; then put his sword beside him.

  “I will obey,” he relented.

  Caring nothing of if seen, after Ogorec picked up his sword, he bent down to kiss Ovfren devotedly on the lips.

  “I will come back with haste,” he assured him, as he put his fingers deep into his hair and held the back of his head.

  One hand holding his side, the other the back of Ogorec’s head, Ovfren breathed his words into Ogorec’s mouth.

  “Be wary in everything,” his words, as now they pressed their foreheads close, “I cannot bear to lose you.”

  “Such glum words, will you speak this way every time I face harm?” Ogorec chided, as he now stood; then walked to his horse, but deep within, his heart raced knowing how much Ovfren loved him.

  “No.” Ovfren grunted, “And for the reason I will be by your side.”

  “My mind must be set to fight,” Ogorec said, as he got on his horse, “Forgive me if I seem cold. I must free my head.”

  Ovfren adjusted his body on the rocks to be more comfortable and gave Ogorec an understanding nod.

  Ogorec prodded his horse forward, but before it could even take four trots, he turned again and looked at Ovfren grimacing and holding his side and after letting out a brief sigh, turned.

  “How can I free my head from you?” he confessed, unable to ride away without speaking words of devotion, regardless if his mind needed to be set to fight, “It grieves me to see you this way.”

  “Go,” he urged, “I will be here.”

  “With haste I will return!” he swore, rushed to his horse and rode off.

  Ogorec raced to the other guilds, the arrow that struck Ovfren’s side tight in his grip, he looked keenly at those around him to see who owned the arrow’s similar quill ready to strike him down.

  “Where is Ovfren?” Cered asked, as Ogorec took his place alongside them.

  After listening to Ogorec, Baric again looked at Gemon.

  “An arrow from your camp struck a guild who rode in with this man!” Baric shouted.

  “I know nothing of it,” Gemon proclaimed.

  “If no one comes forth,” Baric promised, “I, along with my guilds, will cut to pieces every one of you.”

  Just after Baric made his threat, a young boy ran between two of the tents; then stood humbly, and let his bow fall to the ground.

  “I shot the arrow,” he confessed, as he laid down his quiver full of arrows.

  “Why?” Ogorec asked, as he jumped from his horse and walked to him.

  “I shot the arrow into the air from the hill at a bird,” the boy said, “I did not know where the arrow fell.”

  “Into a man’s side,” Ogorec said through clenched teeth as he grabbed the boy by his jaw, yet he controlled his anger towards him, “Pick up your bow.”

  Humbly the boy picked up his bow, then handed it to Ogorec.

  “I beg you to spare my life,” he said and lowered his head, still out breath from racing back to the camp.

  “Leave my sight,” Ogorec hastily said, sparing his life.

  “Is Ovfren well?” Baric asked.

  “When I left him, he was in much pain.”

  Baric looked to two of the guilds.

  “Ride with Ogorec to get Ovfren,” he ordered’ then as he looked to Gemon his mood changed again.

  “Seize him!”

  When the men grabbed Gemon, he began to struggle to break free.

  “Why do punish us for what we do? Do you not have beliefs and rituals of your own?” he questioned.

  “Nothing as vile and loathsome as this,” Baric answered pitiless, as he looked around the camp.

  “I beg you spare my life!” Gemon cried out, as he tried to fall to his knees and bury his face in his hands, but the men made him stand and face Baric.

  Baric mulled for a moment; then looked at the people in the camp around him. Killing their leader would do nothing to change their way of thinking and to kill them all would be heartless.

  “Divide them!” he ordered, “Men, women, children, young and old!”

  From his order, a great commotion spread throughout the camp, as the guilds forced men, women, and children out of their tents.

  “Take the children back to WorrlgenHall, and as for the men sell them to a passing band, and the woman to another. As for the old,” Baric paused and again mulled as he looked at them, “I will leave you with food and water only for the reason you are old.”

  “Have you no mercy!” Gemon cried out.

  Again, Baric looked at Gemon, and at the men and woman in the camp, then at children, and as he thought of how long they must have practiced their vile ritual, his felt repulsed.

  “Mercy. Reason this as my mercy!” he cried out to them all, “That I did not put all of you to death.”

  Just after he spoke one of the guilds walked out of a tent carrying painted plates and drinking cups, along with jewelry and other trinkets.

  “They have chests full of such hidden about the camps,” he said as he held them up.

  “Seize it all,” Baric ordered; then turned and looked again at Gemon, “Then burn all that stands to the ground.”

  **

  Early that morning as Laad walked out of his tent, Loth approached on his horse.

  “They have not joined us,” he said, when he stopped in front of him.

  “No one?” he questioned aloud, as he wondered what could be wrong, “Gather men and ride back to see what holds them.”

  Loth nodded; then rode off.

  Right away, a group gathered; then rode back to the nomad camp; but when they got close and heard the sounds of loud wailing; fearing trouble, blew the horn to call the others and drew their swords charging forward.

  When he heard the horn, Laad looked to Loth, then in the direction of the nomad camp and saw smoke.

  “Our Lord!” Laad shouted, as he hurried to his horse, and when he did, no need to give a command, all knew to follow.

  As Laad and the men made their way back to the nomad camp, again they heard the horn blow alerting them there was no longer a threat of danger, yet the heavy smoke caused him concern.

  “I will ride in,” he said to Loth, “Send the men back to the camp.”

  “So shall I,” he insisted, then turned and drew his sword and held it sideways.

  When Laad and Loth rode in, Laad saw Ovfren’s side bandaged and bleeding, as he lay on a makeshift pallet on the ground, then saw Ogorec standing next to him.

  “The burning?” he questioned.

  “Lord Baric’s command.”

  “Where is our lord?”

  Ogorec signaled with his eyes, which Laad followed, and as they did saw Baric standing next to a woman who was holding a child, an
d rode to him.

  As he sat on his horse in front of him, he said nothing, instead, waiting for Baric to speak first.

  “I have a son,” Baric proudly said, and looked at him.

  Laad said nothing when he looked at the boy, then at the woman who held the child. Instead, he only nodded at the woman, who politely nodded back; then as the wailing men, women, and children crossed his path, he spoke. “What is your wish, my lord?”

  “Vile, they are,” he said bitterly, “They sacrifice male children tender in age.”

  Again, Laad looked at the boy and knew why his lord seemed outraged.

  “And the other children?” he questioned.

  “I want them taken to WorrlgenHall.”

  Laad inwardly sighed, but said nothing against it, as again he looked at the boy. Reasoning he was about the same age as his young son Elaad, he thought of the fate of having his own child sacrificed which sickened and angered him.

  As he looked and listened to the men and women wailing aloud, more so because of selfishness than forced from their own loved one’s or children, Laad began to seethe.

  On his horse, Laad watched the men and women. Many young and well suited to make and bear children; he looked over at the small number of children in the camp compared to the males and females.

  “So little male children for so many people,” he commented to Loth.

  “Such is true,” Loth agreed.

  Again, Laad looked at the men and women wailing about and his stomach turned realizing the practice of sacrificing boy children was agreeably shared by all and often.

  “You wail for only yourselves!” an angered Laad shouted to them all, “Your deeds should bring you worse woes. Worse than what shadows you now. If I hear one more sound, all of you will be struck down where you stand!”

  From his command, Laad nodded to Loth, who unsheathe half of his sword ready to strike down his first, and as Loth glared at them, all silenced.

  After he made his threat, Laad rode to speak with Baric.

  “You have found her,” he said, as he put his horse next to his, “Will you go back with WorrlgenHall with the men who take the children?”

  “No, I will scout,” Baric said.

  Laad looked at the woman noticing how pretty she was, and then looked at Baric.