"My lord, just this week we had ten young lads finish their two year term and decide they'd like to stay on. We have yet to assign them to a company. So we could perhaps send them with a squad," replied General Kehar.
"Thirty-five men, ten of which are inexperienced. Gerry, earlier you offered me your sword, as did you, Jeff. Would I be able to take you both up on that offer now?" asked the duke.
"Of course, m'lord. We can drop the boys off back home on the way. When would we leave?" Gerard rose as Duke Angus stood up.
"The instant the general can organise the squad," replied Duke Angus, turning and nodding at the general. General Kehar immediately called the captains together, and after a quick discussion, one of the captains ran out of the room.
"Captain Hillsworth has gone to fetch Jethro's squad and the newbies. They will be mobilised within the hour, my lord."
"Very good, general. Now, Gerry," said the Duke, turning toward Gerard, "understand that, as you are no longer part of the army, you will not be leading this extended squad."
"I understand, my lord, just happy to be of help," replied Gerard.
"I hadn't finished, Gerry," said the Duke forcefully. "Although you will not be in charge of the squad, feel free to strongly advise Squad Leader Jethro, and I am sure he will be wise enough to carefully consider your opinions," he continued, winking at Gerard.
"Just like old times, ay?" said Gerard, looking at Master Pilk.
"Not quite, my friend. This time around, I am official and you are not. A reverse in roles, it seems," said Master Pilk with a chuckle.
"This meeting is now over, gentlemen," said Duke Angus officially. "I'm sure you will want to ready yourself, Master Pilk."
"Yes, my lord," said Master Pilk as he scurried off out of the room.
"And you, my friends, will likely require some refreshments before you set out again."
"Yes, my lord duke," said Jeff and Gerard together. Duke Angus went to the door, opened it, and called out to an attendant. When the attendant arrived, he instructed him to guide Gerard and his companions to some place they could get refreshments.
* * *
Feygrus and Ki'janna arrived back in camp sometime after dark. The larger of the two moons of Ka'ton was almost full this night, the smaller one was less than half full, but the night was still bright enough to make your way around. The orcs were not accustomed to seeing dual moons, as their world only had the one very large one.
Three orcs had retired for the night, while the other three stood watch. Feygrus and Ki'janna were quickly identified by Gunther, who was on watch duty to the east of the orc encampment and Feygrus asked him immediately if Bigroth and Seagrid had returned. He said they had and were currently keeping a mobile watch around the rest of the camp. Feygrus instructed Ki'janna to go find one of them and send them to him and replace them on watch duty. He set off at once and Feygrus continued on to the middle of the camp and waited. A short time later, Seagrid appeared.
"Were you able to follow the tracks to their origin, Seagrid?"
"We were, scout master, and I am alarmed to say the tracks led to a bush just over there," replied Seagrid, pointing to a bush a short distance to the east.
"Then we are discovered. That is very bad news. Bekka and Kilgore were lucky they were killed so quickly, for had they still been alive I would have sentenced them to a slow death. They have imperilled this whole mission. Where is Zether?"
"Asleep in his tent over there, scout master," said Seagrid, pointing out the tent.
"Arouse him at once and send him to me. Then get some sleep yourself. We will have a busy day tomorrow." The orc nodded and set off toward the tent. A moment later Zether appeared.
"You have instructions, scout master?" said Zether, rather sleepily.
After giving a brief run down on what he had seen, Feygrus com-manded him, "I need you to seek out General Krak'too at once. Tell him, due to some careless scouts, our presence on this world has been discovered. Have him ready his company to move through the gate in about seven hours. Hopefully by then the sun should be almost rising, although who can tell on this world. We will need to make haste and erect some basic fortifications around this camp as soon as possible. Tell him that you will return to him when the time comes to enter the gate. Go now," said Feygrus forcefully. Zether nodded and departed at once.
* * *
It was after dark when the extended squad left the city gates; thirty-eight men in all and the two boys. All on horseback and riding double file. Gerard rode up front next to Jethro, with Vik still sharing the saddle with him; behind Gerard, rode Jeff and Trent and next to them, Master Pilk. The night was quite bright and the roadway clear. They rode at a comfortable pace, not wanting to wear the horses out too much. Jethro had been briefed on the mission and silently instructed to heed Gerard's advice.
A little over an hour later found the squad approaching Gerard's house. Upon approaching the house, Gerard had a sinking feeling in his stomach. From this distance he could see a few of his sheep lying around the house. Dam, he thought, I'd totally forgotten about those stupid sheep and my broken gate. But then he realised why this was even more disturbing. Elly would not have let those sheep remain loose. She would have at least locked them up in the shed overnight. Another detail struck him then. The house was in total darkness. Yes, it was nearing midnight, but surely El would've waited up for him and left a light burning.
He turned to face Jeff and noticed the same worried expression. A moment later, both men were galloping toward the house, leaving the squad in their wake. Gerard was off his horse before it had fully stopped moving. He drew out his sword and bolted for the front door. Jeff was only a few paces behind. Gerard flung the front door open and at once realised he was too late. Upon the floor lay his wife, a huge stab wound to her stomach, lying in a pool of blood. He collapsed to his knees and began to crawl toward his wife's lifeless body. He felt so weak and cold, but not as cold as El's body was when he touched her face. She had been dead some hours. All warmth lost to her.
Jeff ran right by him toward the kitchen.
Gerard was too overtaken by grief. He lifted his wife to him and hugged her tight; reality hit him then. He knew he would never again see his wife's smile, feel her embrace and enjoy her company. He had lost so much, it was simply unbearable.
Vik approached then and fell down beside his father, tears streaming from his eyes as the boy sobbed loudly. Their eyes met, father and sons, and Gerard saw the devastation in his son's eyes that mirrored his own. No words were spoken. What could possibly be said?
From the kitchen they heard a terrible wail. It was Jeff, or at least sounded remotely like him. Gerard knew then, that waiting in the next room was more grief. He wasn't sure he could handle any more than what he was feeling, but he knew he must go and look. He had to discover what had happened. He had to seek revenge for his wife's life.
Trent sprinted passed him before he could rise to his feet. He was finally able to rise with the help of his son, and the two of them staggered into the kitchen. The scene that confronted them there was tragic. His eleven-year-old daughter lay sprawled on the floor, face down with a huge gash from the base of her neck to tail bone. The kitchen floor was red with blood and the stench was putrid. Vik, standing next to him, vomited and collapsed, continuing to gag as he hit the floor. Gerard noticed Jeff and Trent down on the floor near an overturned chair. Another body lay there. Gerard knew it to be Adrianna. On closer inspection he realised she had been beheaded. Her head lay metres away near the wood stove, and the walls behind where she was sitting were sprayed with blood—her blood.
Jeff continued to wail, joined by his son, Trent. Gerard forced himself to leave his son gagging on the floor as he approached his daughter's fallen form. She had obviously been running toward where Adrianna was seated, but didn't make it very far. The wound was from a large axe, Gerard knew instantly.
He was certain of who had done this terrible thing. The orcs were merciless. Th
e women were dead in seconds. He lay next to his daughter and turned her over. Her facial expression broke his heart. Such fear on his daughters face, she had known she was about to die. An eleven-year-old should never know such a thing.
He had no idea how long he had been on the kitchen floor before the other soldiers arrived. He had no strength to move, and so found himself being carried out the back by two men. There he found himself joined by Vik, Jeff and Trent. All of them with heads held low and tears streaming from their eyes. He gathered them to him and with long, strong arms, pulled them all in tight, and there they remained for some time.
* * *
Jethro was a young but talented squad leader. He had seen action, and had witnessed death close up. But none of that prepared him for the sight inside Gerard's house. Gerard's wife by the front door, and his daughter on the kitchen floor; Jeff's wife was not too far away without a head. So much blood, the hard wooden floors were slippery.
Jethro had heard stories about Gerard and Jeff. They were somewhat of a legend in the army. Young soldiers aspired to be like them. Yet here he saw the both of them stricken with such grief, a child could walk up to them and put a knife through them and they wouldn't even know it.
Tears streamed down his own face to see such glorious men in such a weak state. Master Pilk was standing next to him and Jethro could tell the wizard was shattered with grief - he knew Master Pilk was very close to these two families.
Jethro knew he had to take control of this situation. It was doing no good for these men to be in this house. He had to get them moving. He ordered two men each to carry the men and boys outside. He ordered one of the new recruits to ride back to the city in full haste and inform General Kehar. Get him to send out help to get this house cleaned up and the bodies taken back to the city and readied for burial.
He had been told about the size of these new orcs, but could scarcely believe it until he saw the size of the wound in the girl's back. It had been swung with such force that it had protruded through to the front of her. His next problem was to get these great men, who had suffered such loss, focused on completing their mission. He had no idea how he was going to do that.
* * *
Gerard faintly heard his name mentioned, but simply could not re-spond. It was said again louder. He felt so sick and weak that he was afraid to turn around in case his head simply snapped. He was afraid to break away from embracing Jeff and the two boys who shared his loss equally.
His name again, shouted at him this time, followed by the comment, "We have to get moving". This frustrated Gerard and he swung around and stood up with such anger in his eyes that all those near him took a couple of paces back. All, that is, except for Jethro. He stood his ground even though this man towered over him. He held firm even though this man could snap him in half in a heartbeat.
Gerard grabbed Jethro around the neck and squeezed, his hand shaking. Jethro made no move to defend himself; he just looked Gerard in the eye with a sympathetic but determined stare. Gerard looked at this man he hardly knew. He was a young man who was a couple of inches under six foot, well-built but not broad, and yet was totally fearless when confronting an irate giant of a man who had just lost the majority of his family. That fearlessness was enough to make Gerard loosen his grip on the man's neck; he still eyed him dangerously, but did eventually let him go and took a step back.
"I know you have lost more tonight than I can even begin to under-stand Gerard," Jethro began, "but I am not your enemy. I am a squad leader, who was on his second drink in a tavern when I was summoned for this mission. I have a basic understanding of what it is that we face, and upon seeing the results of their brutality in there, I realise I am going to need every sword that I was sent with to deal with this threat, and yours and Jeff's sword, I hear, are worth ten men. Over there in that grove," said Jethro, pointing to the west, "are the ones responsible for the deaths of your family, and your wife, Jeff," he said as he looked at Jeff still sitting down on the porch. "Know that every man here feels an element of your pain, but if we don't go and confront those murderers now, they will not stop with your family. They are orcs and it is in their blood to kill. So Gerard, and Jeff, know that I am sympathetic to you both and to your boys, but also know that I need both of you men with me, now more than ever, for I see fear in the eyes of our young warriors. I need you both, not just for your skill with the blade, but for your leadership as well."
Gerard looked around at the squad and quickly remembered that a third of these warriors were scarcely more than boys. Some had possibly not even seen a dead body before. He looked back again at Jethro, but with a slightly different look—a look of admiration.
Jethro was a man in his mid-twenties, short, jet black hair, dressed in his fine leather armour as the rest of the soldiers were but with a squad leader badge which showed the two crossed swords emblem of Lertia on his breast and one small black triangle below it symbolising his rank. He was sent out with a squad of warriors, most of them younger than he was, and just now had stood his ground against a legend of the Arthean army.
Gerard looked around at Jeff and saw his friend slowly rise to his feet. Both men still had tears dripping from their eyes, but a steely resolve was now in them rather than the despair of a few moments before. Then he looked down at his son and saw that he was wiping the tears away from his eyes, but noticed a look in those eyes he had seen once before only recently. The look he had when slamming an orc twice his weight from behind in defence of his father.
Gerard marvelled at the strength and resilience of Vik. He always knew he was fearless, but Gerard had witnessed seemingly fearless men before fall weakly to their knees in their first battle. His son was now standing up, and Trent followed soon after.
Jethro spoke up again, "Is there a safe place nearby where the boys can hide, Gerard, until we return?"
Gerard looked back at the squad leader. "You want me to leave these boys alone after what you have just seen in there?" shouted Gerard.
"I can't spare any more men to escort them back to Arthea, and they can't come along with us," answered Jethro determinedly.
"You can't leave us now, father. What if you don't return? Am I to lose my entire family this night?" asked Vik. Gerard saw the pleading eyes of his son. "Better to die by your side, father, than to live a life without any of my family," continued Vik in a shaky voice.
Gerard was torn. On the one hand he didn't want to witness his son being cut down by these orcs while he was fighting them, and on the other he could see Vik's point of view. The boy had already lost a mother and a sister this night. It would undoubtedly break even Vik's sturdy resolve to lose his father as well. At least if Vik was beside him, he could do his best to protect him. If he left him behind, only to find out the orcs that killed his wife and daughter were still around and took his son from him as well, it would crush him.
"The boys are both fine swordsmen. I have a couple of short swords in a chest in my room, if you would kindly send someone in to fetch them," Gerard heard himself saying before he had fully thought it all out.
Jeff looked at him a little hesitantly, but after a moment, he gave a nod of confirmation to Jethro.
Gerard noticed Jethro about to speak, but then obviously changed his mind. The young squad leader turned and ordered the closest soldier to go fetch the swords. Vik and Trent looked at each other with very red eyes, but eyes that widened in disbelief.
* * *
"I want prisoners," said the fierce one to General Krak'too. Gilkan had been summoned soon after Zether had returned back through the gate. "I want to know as much as possible about this new enemy."
"I understand, fierce one, it will be done," answered General Krak'too. It was late afternoon on the orc world of Ki'arantha. It would only be an hour from midnight in six hours' time, when the orc company were expecting to move on through the gate.
"Word from the north has arrived. It seems the Red Axe are content for the moment holding the lands they recently ca
ptured from us. I don't expect that to last, so we need to move quickly into this new world and see if we can discover a solution."
"Yes, my fierce one. Once we have gone through the gate, I will set up some basic fortifications at once. While that is being done, I will send the scouts back out to discover the whereabouts of these creatures that killed the two careless scouts. Then we will see about getting you some prisoners, my fierce one."
"Very good, general. From the basic description you have given me, it sounds to me as though they may be humans.
"Humans? What are humans, fierce one?" asked General Krak'too. Gilkan smiled a wicked smile. It was the kind of smile he had before beheading a disobedient slave.
"Orcs were not always the only intelligent race on Ki'arantha. Did you not know?" The general shook his head. "No, many years ago, before you or I were born and even before our fathers and their fathers were born, there was another intelligent race that walked upon this world. I have only read about them and seen some crude drawings, but they are much as what you have described. Shorter and not as broad as us, they had a smooth, tan coloured skin, thick mops of hair upon their heads and small facial features. They were a constant menace to us. Although not as numerous as the orcs, they were skilled and fierce fighters. Our ancestors decided to go on what they called a 'cleansing'. Orc tribes banded together and hunted down every last one of these humans. To our knowledge they succeeded in this task, as no humans have been seen on this world since. If any did survive, they are hiding well. If this is what we face on this new world, we would be wise not to underestimate them."
"I understand, fierce one," grunted the general.
"Get me some prisoners," demanded Gilkan again as he stormed off.
* * *
"Dismount," ordered Jethro. "We will leave the horses here."
The Gate - A New Breed of Orc (The Gate Series Book 1) Page 5
