Looking up as a blow was cast down from above, Gnak instinctively reached up and caught the Orc’s fist in his hand. The attack ceased. Growling, Gnak rose, careful to disguise the pain shooting up his leg lest another take it for weakness. His opponent remained unmoving.
“Know this,” Gnak shouted. “Chief Gnak warrior of Goddess Ishanya. Have magic. Take life.”
Looking out over the crowd, he could see a few that appeared as if they could spring at him any second. He reached down and retrieved one of his blades. Turning, he thrust it into the chest of the Orc he had removed the will from, and hurriedly cut a hole in the still living Orc’s chest. Ripping away the flesh, he showed those who watched the still-beating heart within the cavity he had created. Reaching in, he tore out the pulsing muscle as blood poured from the wound like a crimson waterfall. In that same instant, he returned the will to the now dead Orc and held its heart out to offer it back to him. The Orc registered the still beating heart and looked to the gaping hole in its chest. Its mouth falling open, it screamed a terrible scream, blood pouring from its lips, and Gnak turned again to face the Orcs gathered, though only for a moment.
“Gnak give life too,” he told them. “Have much power. Gnak now you chief. You now Gathos clan. Fight Gnak… Gnak make you this,” he said pointing to the now gurgling Orc who refused to die.
After he had decided that none would try to challenge him, at least not immediately, he ordered the Orc be bound and staked where he now stood, as a reminder to those who he had just become the chief of. He ordered the newcomers counted, and the smartest among them armored with the few pieces of armor Gnak had in excess. Beyond that, he ordered that the newly acquired clan-mates be fed first, claiming that no real chief would let their people starve. If nothing else, the newcomers wholly agreed with his final sentiments.
Over the next week Gnak and all of his troops, both Orc and goblin, gathered in the center of their now expanded camp every night, and prayed to Ishanya over the heartless and rotting Orc who as of yet still clung to his mock life. Gnak told his people that Orcs needed to change and adapt if they were to survive. He tried to show them that there was more to life than just pride and honor, though explained that both were good and right, in moderation. Beyond that, he supposed that word of his abilities spread amongst the clans nearest his, for no other attackers came in that week.
He spent time each night learning the names of his captains, and speaking to both the goblin king and Bota about the battle to come. During the day, when he was alone in his tent he spoke to Jen, telling her about the happenings in the camp, but she did not speak back. Though her absence saddened him, it seemed that those closest to him in camp were beginning to come around. Their daily talks became more and more about how to spare lives instead of ending them.
Two full cycles of the moons had passed when, without warning, the chief of another clan and two of his captains strode into the Gathos camp. As instructed, the trio were put under guard and brought to face Gnak before the makeshift altar to Ishanya that had been erected over the previous months. Gnak watched them approach and was appalled at what he saw.
Before him three withered specimens of his race came, each thin with sunken eyes and swollen abdomens. They were ill, it appeared, and in such condition would not survive long. He was surprised other Orcs had not put them down yet. Before Gnak the three Orcs strode, a small shred of pride remaining in their stride. But before him they each fell to their knees.
“Mighty Gnak of Gathos, we Chantuk. We small clan. No many left. Me chief. Me Pantak. Big chief send no food, many weeks. Gnak clan strong. Good food. Gnak good chief. Pantak ask Gnak take Chantuk clan. Give clan. Take as Gathos. Feed. Make strong.”
Gnak watched as all three bowed their faces so low as to touch the soil with their tusks. From the corner of his eye he could see the goblin king peeking out from his tent, nodding in approval. It was no matter. Gnak would not let them starve. But he required something from them in return.
“Look me, Chief Pantak,” Gnak began. “Gnak take you clan, Pantak no chief no more. Maybe Gnak make captain. Maybe no. Chantuk clan must do like Gathos. Be Gathos. Learn Gathos. This I order. If yes, I take, I feed.”
“Yes, Pantak say good,” the Orc said, rising back to his knees to look Gnak in the eyes.
“Ishanya say unite Orcs. Save Orcs. Gnak save Chantuk clan. You pray Ishanya,” Gnak demanded, and stepping aside he pointed to the altar behind him.
Upon their knees the three delegates of the dying Chantuk tribe prayed to Ishanaya, as Gnak sent his captains and a contingent of troops to gather the rest of their clan. As it turned out there were barely two hundred left, and again Gnak ordered the slaughter of more boars. Though he was slowly building his clan, even the boars were fading at an alarming rate. If something did not change soon, he would be forced to take drastic measures in order to sustain his people.
Each night thereafter, he led his people in prayer to Ishanya, and asked that she bring them change. With each new addition their prayers became louder, and after just nine more nights, it seemed she had heard them. Change had come.
CHAPTER NINE
The sun still blazed in the sky outside when Gnak was roused from his bed of furs. A great roar sounding from all around him broke the relative silence, to then echo once again off the mountains behind. Springing from his bed he rushed outside, forgoing even his armor to see what had caused the commotion. Following the gazes of his people, he looked out across the valley below them to the highest point upon the opposite, cliff-like wall. Atop it stood near a hundred of the armored humans, all atop the great white mounts they rode. Behind them, and to either side, tents were being erected in a tight row, obscuring just how large a force was marching to the field. Damned smart humans.
Over the following hours the human camp grew and grew. Rows of tents obscured nearly the entire face of that highest point across the valley. Humans could be seen running this way and that, and before long a perimeter of fires and guards were set as hundreds of eyes looked back across the great void at the Orcs and their allies. Gnak was filled with anxiety.
Rushing back into his tent, knowing everyone outside was distracted, he pulled forth Jen’s orb from his body and called to her softly.
“Jen, Gnak want talk you.”
“What about?” she answered immediately, as if she had been awaiting his call.
“Humans come. Big war soon. Many die.”
“It can’t be stopped?”
“No way, Gnak see.”
“Then you have to do like Ishanya told you. Do what you can for the Orcs. Keep them safe so you can bring them together and make believers of them.”
“Gnak know this. Not know how,” Gnak said, sounding as if he were on the verge of defeat.
“You can’t save them all, Gnak, and to save some you might have to make sacrifices.”
“What sacrifices? Kill humans for Ishanya?”
“No, not literally, Gnak. You might have to sacrifice pride to save them.”
“Run away? Gnak no can run. Orcs no trust weak chief.”
“Not run away, but perhaps be slower than the rest to rush into battle. Let others take the brunt of the damage.”
Gnak thought it over a minute and then grinned into the empty tent.
“Is good plan. Make clan wait. Just small time. Let others in front. Gnak like.”
“I am glad to be of service, chief Gnak,” she replied playfully. “How comes Ishanya’s desires?”
“Gnak have three clan, make one. Grow double, grow more.”
“More than double? That is good news, Gnak.”
“Yes is good. Gnak must go now. Need make plan with captains.”
“OK, Gnak, keep yourself safe. Remember, your life is precious too. Maybe even more precious than others.”
“Gnak remember. Gnak fight smart. No like Orc.”
Jen did not reply back. She had again gone beyond his reach. But the conversation had made Gnak feel more at eas
e. He had a simple plan to help spare the lives of his troops, and he had Jen’s belief in him that he could do what it was that he sought to.
Turning, he strode to the flap of his tent, and poking his head through he told the captains outside to gather their peers as well as Bota and the goblin king for a meeting. Ducking back inside, he waited nearly an hour for all to arrive. The camp had grown so much it was becoming more difficult to locate one another.
“All here know what Ishanya want Gnak do. All here know Gnak want save Orc, make Orc better. Gnak want save goblin too. Troll too. Ishanya want Gnak make better. Bring many clan, make one. Many race one camp. Gnak want this too…”
He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. All in his tent were smart. They understood what he meant even if their whole lives had been the opposite. He hoped he could rely on them when the time came that he needed to.
“To save many, Gnak have plan. No send, fight fast. Like go join big chief, Gathos go slow to fight. Let more clan go first. Gathos go last. Few die. Less die make Gathos strongest clan. Gathos make strongest, be easy join more clans. See Gnak plan?”
It really was simple. Delay when attacking to let the other clans take the brunt of the damage. There was no pride in it, but eventually, taking the least casualties, his clan would become the strongest. Already they were twelve hundred strong, and over six thousand with the goblins. If he could gather another clan or two to his cause he would be strong enough to challenge any other, except perhaps the clan of the big chief. But that concern would have to wait.
Looking to all of his captains and allies one by one he accepted their nods, and rising he left the tent with them as the sun dipped below the horizon beyond. The fires in the human camp had been fed, growing immense, casting dancing light in all directions. The twisted shadows of the humans among the fires seemed to stretch across the valley in long serpentine forms of darkness, but that was only an illusion, and Gnak quickly dismissed it from his thoughts when he heard the sound.
From across the soon-to-be battlefield, a great cacophony of howls arose, joining together as one, causing goose pimples to form on Gnak’s flesh. Several of his clan, both Orc and goblin, visibly shuddered at the sound. He could not help but wonder what horror the humans brought with them, though the night did not reveal them. Instead, only half an hour later, even from across the valley, hundreds of prowling sets of glowing eyes moved among the shadows where the fires could not reach. Gnak watched the eyes, and watched still as small contingents set forth across the dark valley from his own side. The big chief was sending troops to harass the enemy and starve them of rest. It was a good plan.
Watching through the darkness he and all his clan, like every other, watched as the small bands of Orcs and goblins closed the distance between themselves and the humans. Closer and closer they crept in the night, careful to avoid the light where humans could see them. Gnak watched as the first group grew dangerously close to the human guards, but never did they reach their target. Out of the darkness the humans’ beasts came, springing onto their foes with tooth and claw. The beasts were nothing the Orcs had ever seen before, all feral rage and bristling fur, and within minutes every one of the parties sent to harass the humans was reduced to mangled flesh. Some of his kinsmen were left alive, their bodies torn to bits, as they screamed in pain, calling to their comrades for help. No help came.
Throughout the night the big chief sent parties to test the humans’ defenses, and again and again they were tore limb from limb. It seemed the humans had allies of their own, and they were vicious creatures with strength and size to rival the Orcs’. Gnak did not know what to think of the creatures, only that he wanted to keep his men away from them at all costs. But when morning came, all hopes of delaying or ending the battle before it started were dashed.
Light spread across the sky to chase away darkness, as the shadows of the mountains to the east shrank with every given moment. Thin, wispy clouds, sailed high in the heavens as birds flew in great flocks, all headed beyond the mountains to the south. Gnak watched as the human army began to stir across the valley, and he was caught off guard when the first deep note of the Orcish war drum broke the silence to carry across the still morning air. The big chief intended to attack during the day when humans were less vulnerable? Gnak wondered if the leader of many clans was a big a fool as his plans made Gnak believe.
Again and again the note crashed through the air, being picked up and joined by others. Within a span of minutes, hundreds of huge drums were pounded in a slow, steady rhythm that reminded Gnak of the beating heart he had held in his hand not long ago.
Looking out across the side of the valley he shared, he watched as many clans of Orcs gathered with goblins, trolls, and ogres. Forming a solid line of black iron and flesh several hundred bodies deep, they began to slowly move forward as more and joined their ranks. Even without his order to do so, some of his clan began to move, but Gnak had a plan.
“Gathos!” Gnak shouted above the din of marching and drumming. “Gnak pray Ishanya give power, give strength. Gnak pray she make Orc and goblin better. Make learn new ways. Gnak pray Ishanya protect Gathos. Now all pray!”
He watched as his captains took their cue and all began repeating his prayer, the entirety of his clan turning away from the surging tide of bodies to face the makeshift altar at the center of camp. It only bought him less than five minutes, but every one of them counted. Then, when the prayer was done, Gnak ordered them into battle formations and, taking Jen’s words to heart, he ordered them forward, behind the vast majority of the army.
It was an hour later that they crossed the halfway point of the valley, the ground shaking beneath the pounding of their feet. Ahead, the humans collected on the northern slope of the valley, their numbers too few to even have come. Gnak doubted they would last the morning. Onward Gnak and his clan marched at the rear of the invading horde, and estimating, he guessed they had at least ten times the numbers that the humans had mustered, but it was then that his question from the previous night was answered.
From atop the valley’s crest, a wall of non-human troops marched down to join the humans, and with them great dire wolves prowled in and out of the lines. It was apparent that the fur-covered troops were related to the four-legged beasts that walked among them. They were not a large force, perhaps half a thousand, but they were muscular hulking creatures whose heads swiveled as they marched, watching the movements of everything. Though Gnak could not put his finger on it, for some reason he knew the creatures to be unnatural. Looking to their head, he watched as an oddly armored pair of humans led the beasts. Something about the human commanded his attention, but he did not have long to ponder the matter, for at that very instant the roar sounded and the wall ahead of him surged forward.
Drawing his blades, Gnak charged ahead with his troops. Cursing the big chief’s stupidity, he watched as the humans held their ground, the higher ground, waiting for the charge to come. Higher numbers or not, the disadvantage of fighting uphill should have been apparent, but went ignored. Another quarter mile passed beneath his feet, and all around him battle cries filled the air as thousands of voices shouted their hatred of the opposing humans.
The humans retaliated by ripping down the nearest line of tents to reveal large metallic machines. It took only a few seconds to discover what the things were designed to do.
In a series of loud sounds, the war cries of both armies were punctuated by the thwonk, thwonk, thwonk of the machines as giant spears sailed through the air at incredible speed to slice through the Orcs and goblins nearest the humans. Near a dozen were injured or killed with each shot of each machine, the passing of each bolt carving out a swath through the invading army. Those hit by the strikes cried out, their screams lost beneath the feet of the onward surging line. Angered by the attack, those ahead of Gnak increased their speed as explosions sounded all around. Gnak could not believe his eyes.
From both forces, men of giant stature sprang up from
the armies, bearing massive blades, and hammers. Out to meet his kin the giant humans came, stomping upon his kind, and striking them down by the hundreds before the invading champions could meet them. From ahead the humans loosed arrows by the thousands, and a rain of death arced out of the sky as the battle cries turned to bloodcurdling screams of agony. Fireballs lanced from both armies with devastating effect, as living, burning troops of all races stumbled about with their bodies engulfed, the flesh melting from their bones as their final screams were silenced. There was neither honor nor pride in a war such as this.
Gnak, so far back in the lines, was helpless to do anything but watch as those from his race fell before the better prepared humans, but the tide was already turning. Blast after magical blast was traded among the armies, but with so few troops, every loss was felt heavily by the humans. Their archers and mages began to thin, as blasts from Gnak’s side sought them out in an attempt to end the rain of death. But still the war machines the humans used sent giant bolts to slay many with each strike.
Onward and uphill the line moved slowly as Gnak strode upon gore beneath his feet. He had reached those who were first to fall. His people cared nothing for the dying or dead, they simply walked upon them, crushing them into the ground and desecrating their remains. It made Gnak sick. How many of those now reduced to thick sludge beneath him could have been saved?
Turning his attention back to the battle, a flash of brilliant light drew his eyes off to the left, across the battlefield. Watching for its source, he witnessed as the leader of the fur-covered beasts raised his hands, pointing them outwards towards the lines of the invaders. He was armored from head to toe in what appeared to be a skeleton of blackened steel. Every oddly formed bone showed plainly on the surface of his armor where spikes protruded at the joints, making even his armor a weapon. Upon his head the man wore a helm that resembled the same beasts he led, the maw of his helm gaping wide to reveal the human beneath.
Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) Page 159
