Leading up to the biggest, sturdiest double doors Jeff had ever seen was a massive set of stone steps as wide as the street they were travelling. Every twenty steps was a landing, and there were three landings before reaching the top. In the middle, at the top of the stairs, stood a large pedestal, with steps leading up to it from its rear. At the far sides stood huge stone statues of almost regal looking orcs, holding an assortment of weapons. Jeff assumed that these were likely orc leaders of the past. A number of massive round stone pillars stood atop the stairs, holding up the building above the inset double doors. There was no mistaking the purpose of this building. It was a palace.
The wagon stopped in front of the steps, and before Jeff and the others could even begin to stand, they were dragged off the back of the wagon by the six orc guards. They were then roughly escorted up the steps, and through the now open set of double doors. They were then taken through a series of corridors and down more steps than Jeff could even count.
The ceilings in the shiny tiled corridors were three times the height of these orcs. Upon the wall hung images of important looking orcs as well as some pictures of orcs battling with other orcs. The hallway was lit up with golden candelabra's fixed to the walls. It wasn't long before Jeff was able to deduce where they were bound. They entered a large, dark, cold and dingy corridor, with barred jail cells off to each side. These orcs take prisoners, thought Jeff. No orc Jeff had ever met took prisoners. Their enemies were always killed on the spot, as were any other orc who annoyed them or got in their way. These orcs were bordering on civilised. Was that even possible?
Being led past a number of occupied cells, where the orcs were reaching through the bars trying to grab them and hurl, what Jeff assumed, to be every conceivable insult at them, they finally came to an unoccupied cell. Jeff was relieved that the cells were divided by stone walls, instead of just iron bars like the front of them. If they were only separated by bars, it would make the cell even more confined than it already was, as they wouldn't dare approach the sides within reach of the neighbouring orc prisoners. The six men were half thrown towards the rear of the cell, and then the door was closed and locked up behind them, before their orcish escorts stormed off again. The men were now left alone in a cold, dark and damp cell on a strange world surrounded by enemies. "I've had better days," said Jeff out aloud, drawing some amused looks from the others.
* * *
As light came to this strange new world, an accurate body count could be determined. Twenty-six of the human bodies were gathered together into a pile and burned. But what General Krak'too found hard to believe was that he had lost sixty orcs against these humans; more than half his force was lying dead on the battlefield, and some others possibly wouldn't survive their injuries. Never had the general lost more than two to one against an enemy, especially when he held the larger force.
His respect for the humans fighting ability was immense. Never would he underestimate them again. A report had just come in also, that two more of the scouts had been found dead; Car'kas and Gunther. General Krak'too knew little about Car'kas's fighting ability, but he knew Gunther to be fierce in combat. He was second in command of the most renowned scouting group of the Black Skull tribe. Feygrus's scouts were specifically chosen for this mission because of their reputation.
Feygrus himself had examined the battle scene around the two mighty orcs and reported that no more than two of the humans were in the area, and it appeared as though the second came onto the scene sometime after the fight started. This news was very disturbing to the general. It seemed as though one human warrior was equal to two of the orcs' better fighters. After witnessing the final moments of the battle, he was quite confident he now held at least one, if not both, of the humans responsible for the scout's demise. One had been badly wounded, but General Krak'too had ordered the human to be fully healed. He very much wanted to speak to this human.
While he was standing there, mulling over the results of the battle, Feygrus approached. "You asked to see me, general?"
"Yes, I did," replied General Krak'too, coming out of his thoughts. "Any sign of the humans that got away?"
"It appears as though the human magic user is quite powerful. Their tracks all lead to a spot just beyond that large rock over there," said Feygrus, pointing to a rock south of their position, surrounded by a sparse group of trees, "and simply disappear, general. One grunt reported seeing a faint glow behind the rock, but had vanished by the time he arrived there."
"Yes, that human magic user was quite troublesome. I may have to dig up what other history we have on these humans. But for now, I need you to scout further into this world so we can better determine what we now face. From what we have seen so far, I think the best directions to scout are to the east and to the south."
"I agree, general. I'll have ... ah, Bigroth lead a scout group east. I'll lead a group south as to all reports that is the most difficult way."
"Very well. Report the instant you return. Dismissed." As Feygrus nodded his head and ran off General Krak'too thought to himself, now to convince the fierce one, I need a company of worg riders, and with that the general set off toward the gate, leaving his captain in charge.
* * *
"Another dead end, scout master," reported Zether. It was approaching midday and the orcs were still trying to navigate their way through this rocky terrain. They had glimpsed a river in the distance a number of times, and so had set off in that direction, only to repeatedly run into dead ends. A few times they had climbed sheer cliff faces, finding that they lead nowhere, and had to climb back down and back track.
"Arrgh, I can smell the river from here, and still we can't seem to get to it," grunted Feygrus in a rare show of sheer frustration. "Okay, back the way we came then."
The orcs went back to a location where an hour before they had de-cided to follow an easier course directly west, instead of a small climb and difficult looking terrain to the south. This time they made the climb and started navigating their way southward. An hour later and the terrain became easier to traverse and the river was in constant sight. Better than that, paths and tracks were everywhere. It was obvious that the humans regularly came to this area.
Following the widest, most used track, they met up with the river in no time at all. A large wooden jetty had been constructed in a wide, slow flowing section of the river. They had seen buildings and other constructions along the path, making it obvious that the humans mined the stone from here. Feygrus had no doubt that if he followed this river downstream, he would come across a human settlement. And so he did exactly that.
As they continued along the banks of the river, they noticed a large cloud of smoke forming in the south. Feygrus had Zether climb up a nearby hill to see if he could determine the source of the smoke.
"It looks to be an army setting fire to a village, scout master," reported Zether when he came back down, "And I'm unsure, but the army didn't look to be human from here."
"What makes you say that, Zether?" asked Feygrus
"I only caught a glimpse of a soldier moving among the smoke, but he seemed to move differently."
"So it looks like the humans have other problems, besides us. That could work out to our advantage. Gr'guck smiles upon this mission. We must move quickly and determine who the human's enemy is. It may be that their enemy will be our ally," said Feygrus as he started to jog to the south.
By the time they arrived at the village, it was well ablaze and there were no signs of the army. Feygrus examined the ground around the outskirts of the village and was forced to agree with Zether's earlier comment of the nature of this army. In fact, the imprints looked distinctly like those an orc would leave behind, except much smaller.
Could there possibly be orcs on this world too? Thought Feygrus. The army had a head start on them, but they would undoubtedly be moving much slower. Feygrus knew he would be able to catch up to them; but what then? What if they were hostile to him? He had to get a report back on what
they had discovered so far.
"Zether, return to camp and tell the general we may have found an ally. Tell him me and Mok'ha intend on making contact to learn what we can of this world. See if you can follow the river further north to avoid going back through the rock maze."
"At once, scout master," replied Zether, then he turned and sprinted off.
"Let's go, Mok'ha. We have to catch up to that army.
* * *
Sleeping in the hard stone cell was not easy, and the company of the neighbouring cells was far from pleasant, but somehow the men did sleep. Gerard had been taken away by a number of orcs not long after they were thrown into the cell. Jeff had had a chance to examine his wounds more closely and was confident the big man would survive. The blow to the head was more worrying than the cut to his chest, but Jeff had seen his friend take a battering before and come through.
As the five men were sitting down discussing their plight, they heard a noise of a metal gate opening up down the hallway they had been dragged through. They heard heavy footsteps fast approaching, and in no time at all, two large orc guards were standing before their cell with a very much healed Gerard between them. The guards opened their cell door and without saying a word, tossed Gerard in with them, closed the door and stormed off again.
"I thought you dead for sure, big fella," said Jeff as Gerard regained his feet.
"As did I; can you believe these orcs actually healed me?" said Gerard, shaking his head.
"Perhaps so that they can have more fun torturing you later," com-mented Jethro soberly.
"Well, for the moment I'm thankful. I thought my head was gonna explode," replied Gerard. "So any plans of escape yet, lads?" added Gerard, who was answered by a brief chuckle from the five other men.
"I think escaping this place is even beyond your ability, Gerry," replied Jeff, as silence fell around the cell once more.
"Never lose hope. While we remain alive, there is always hope. So re-maining alive is the first part of our plan," Gerard said, looking each man in the eye as he said it.
"I like that part of the plan," replied one of the other soldiers, Quade by name. This was rewarded by a heartier laugh. Jeff knew there was little hope for them, but Gerard had just managed to lift the spirits of all the men in this cell, and that was important.
Jeff had no idea how much time had passed. It seemed like days, but was probably only a matter of hours before they were escorted out of their cell. Once again they suffered the jeering and insults from the orcs in the other cells. Jeff paid more attention to their speech this time and realised that not all the insults were hurled at them. He also picked up perhaps an important bit of information; two words, black skull, were used often followed by insults, some Jeff could make out, some he couldn't. It might not be much, but it was a start. Black Skull was obviously the name of this tribe of orcs, and the fact they were not well regarded by some in the cells meant that these orcs had other enemies besides the humans. By the look he got from Gerard, he assumed that he had a similar deduction. Maybe Gerard was right, maybe there was still hope. Gerard's half smirk certainly told Jeff that he believed there was still some hope. He had been around Gerard long enough to never doubt the man.
* * *
They were led into what Gerard assumed to be some kind of interrogation room. All six men were chained, arms and legs both, against a long, cold stone wall. The room was quite large and Gerard noticed down one end of it lay all forms of torturing machines and devices. So perhaps Jethro was right about the torturing. Gerard still held his doubts, though. There was something different about these orcs, something almost civilised. Gerard thought that if the orcs managed to find some use for them, they would be kept alive, at least for a time.
He figured he was about to find out as the largest orc he had ever seen walked into the room. He was accompanied by an orc Gerard vaguely remembered from the battle. Then it came to him, this was the orc that approached them while he lie on the ground barely conscious. He figured him to be a general, or at least a major or equivalent rank, with the way he was respected among the other orcs. He thought that orc was large at the time, but his size was somewhat diminished by the orc that stood next to him now. Roughly the same size of the ogres back on Ka'ton, with an obvious intelligence in his dark grey orbs, there was no doubt that standing before the men was the leader of this orc tribe.
Clad in deep black leather armour, a large amount of dark grey hair on his head, divided into three and platted, as was his beard, this orc approached them with a confidence Gerard had never seen in an orc. He walked more upright, with a straight back and shoulders held back, head held high. He obviously favoured the broad sword as a very large one hung on his hip. He looked at them, not with the contempt the other orcs had done, but with a look of interest, as a mage might study a new magical scroll. Not much intimidated Gerard, but this orc succeeded in doing just that without even trying. The orc spoke, and Gerard was able to understand all the words he had used. The orc was asking who of them the leader was.
"A harder question then it seems," replied Gerard in his best orcish. He could see the surprise in the orc's face to hear this human speak his own language.
"And why should that be a hard question, human?" replied the orc leader.
"Officially one of us was to lead, unofficially another of us was to lead," replied Gerard after giving the phrasing of the answer some thought.
"Two leaders in a battle can cause confusion, which causes greater losses to your force in my experience," commented the orc Gerard assumed to be a general. This comment only served to reinforce that assumption. The orc leader shot a warning look at the general, then turned back to Gerard and continued, "And which are you?"
"Who said I was either of them?" replied Gerard
"You speak our language, you are the largest of your group and from what my general reports possibly the fiercest fighter he has seen. Not to mention you issued a command during the battle and it was obeyed."
"I understand the majority of your language and its structure and piece together the words unfamiliar to me. In our culture, size and battle prowess alone don't make a leader, but as to your last observation, I cannot deny my command was heeded."
"For now, I will assume you to be the leader," said the orc leader, leaving unsaid that eventually he will find out who the other leader is. "So tell me how it is you have come to know our language, since we have been on your world for less than a day?"
"You are not the first orcs we have seen, although, you may be the ugliest we have seen," said Gerard, expecting an aggressive reaction to his insult. Instead he just got a slight smile from the two of them.
"These other orcs are they from your world, or did they come through a gate as well?"
"You ask a lot from me, while promising nothing," replied Gerard firmly. "Why should I answer any of your questions?"
"My general here believes in torture, his toys as you can see are well used," said the orc leader. "However, I believe in kia'ratcha."
"I do not know this orcish word and cannot even imagine what it may mean," replied Gerard.
"Kia'ratcha is an exchanging of equally valuable goods, services or in this case information."
"Ah, 'bargaining' or 'trading' would be our word for that. What information do you seek, and what information do you think I'd be interested in, knowing full well you're just as likely to kill us all after giving us any information."
"Not too trusting are you, human? I give you my word that no orc of the Black Skull will take your life if you give me the information I seek."
This comment got a startled look from the orc general. This didn't go unnoticed by Gerard. "The word of an orc means little to me. The orcs I'm used to dealing with never stick to their word, unless of course that word is the death of someone."
"That may well be, but I assure you, if I give my word on something, I will stick by it, and as the fierce one, my word becomes law. Death is the punishment for any orc breaking
that law. I am going to offer two things to you, and I will ask only one thing in return. I will make this offer only once, and give you one full day to give me your answer. First, I will offer you, not only your life, but release from our captivity at a time of my choosing. Secondly, I will offer you as much information about our world as you supply to me about your world. I want to know customs, language, building and city designs, weapons, army formations and everything else that may be useful to me. In return, I will share the same information with you regarding us. Understood?"
"Understood. What if we choose to not take your offer?" asked Gerard.
"Then you will all receive a quick death, and I'll search for another for the information until I find one wise enough to take the offer," replied the fierce one with a disturbing smile on his face, then he turned and walked confidently out the door, trailed by the general. A second later, the orc guards returned to the room, unchained them all and escorted them back to their cell.
* * *
"Forgive me, fierce one, for questioning your wisdom, but don't you think you are offering these humans too much?" asked General Krak'too with a bowed head, as the two orcs returned to a private room.
"I am offering them nothing," barked back Gilkan; then settling into his big comfortable chair behind his large, polished stone desk, he said, "Yes, I will share with them all the secrets of our ways, if they share all their secrets. The difference is they won't live long enough to use that information to their advantage." He said this calmly with a sly smile on his face.
"You promised them their lives, and their release," replied the general as respectfully as he could.
"I promised them release at a time of my choosing, and I promised that no orc of the Black Skull would take their life. There are many other orc tribes on Ki'arantha that would happily kill them, and I mean to gain an advantage from their deaths."
The Gate - A New Breed of Orc (The Gate Series Book 1) Page 9
