Crossing the camp, he could not understand the kind of trust Jen had. The trust she had in the gods was far greater than what he and the goblin king had shared. Her trust was blind. She did not know what she was doing. Did she? Could a child so young know more about the gods than he? She certainly understood everything else better. Maybe she was right to trust her god. Maybe her one mistake had been trusting him.
Crossing the camp, he looked up at the moons directly above. Time was running out. Speeding his pace he crossed the camp, weaving in between tents, ignoring the calls of praise and proud words of his clan members. Leaping the small dried mud wall of the camp, he walked directly to her and knelt to the ground to look her in the eyes.
“Korx kill you soon.”
“I know, Gnak, it’s OK.”
“Not OK. All life precious,” he repeated her words back to her.
“Yes, Gnak, but you can kill to survive. Some lives have to end for others to continue.”
“Not this way. My fault.”
“I will die, but you will survive, Gnak. It is the will of my god. I forgive you.”
“You forgive. I no forgive. No ever forgive.”
“Just remember me, Gnak, and I will always be with you.”
“Gahh!” he shouted, clenching his fists. “You no die alone. I watch. It hurt, but I watch.”
“Thank you, Gnak. Now go before they see.”
Rising, he wiped the tears from her cheek. “Be strong. Die proud.”
“I will. I promise.”
Gnak strode away and turning, he leapt back over the short wall and into the camp. He did not know if anyone had seen his conversation. He did not care. He had needed it. She had needed it. He owed it to her. Taking deep breaths, the Orcish warrior worked to calm himself. Orc life was all tension, he reminded himself. He needed to think ahead, and focus on what was important. Then the drums began.
Roaring to release his anger, he turned again towards the camp’s center as his clan began to gather.
“Catunga done soon. Elders choose Korx. Elders choose Gnak. All spill blood for gods. Korx and Gnak shed own blood.” The shaman stated the terms of the ritual.
A great fire blazed in the center of their camp, its flames fanning high into the sky, making immense beasts of the Orcs’ shadows. Embers and ash rained down everywhere, making red glowing eyes in the sand. The crackle of the fire was constant and random at the same time, punctuated by hisses and pops that would have caused lesser races of men to become startled. Tensions were high, just as they were before a battle, for tonight many would die.
Following the procession of those that belonged to his clan, he stood and watched as more than thirty Orcs in Catunga lined up along with their sacrifices. Each of them carried a spear. Because his sacrifice was deemed the best, and because it was not with the others, he would have to perform his kill separately. The drums beat louder and faster.
With a rhythm beating like a great heart, the deep resounding drums carried on and on, over even the sounds of the fire. Red, orange, and yellow light cast a strange ambiance across the gathering, appearing to make the Orcs move and sway when in fact they stood still. Gnak shook his head, a shiver running down his spine. It was time to focus.
Looking to Jen, he watched as her face scanned the crowd, seeking him out, and their eyes met. Locking his gaze with hers, he could see that she fought her tears. He refused to blink as the drums grew faster and faster still, their thrumming becoming almost deafening. He held her eyes with his own and knew that Korx watched him even without looking. Then the drums stopped.
Jen sat upon the ground on her knees leaning forward, facing him, when the spear entered her back. A great chorus of screams arose, mostly that of beasts and goblins, but not Jen. Though her mouth opened and blood spurted from it, she did not scream when it tore through her insides and out her chest again to drive into the ground between her legs. She had been tough, and held her scream of pain inside, just as she promised. Now it was his turn to hold in the scream. Breathing rapidly, every muscle in his body tight, prepared to spring and put down Jen’s killer. He needed to release it. Needed to let go. But he held it in. Let it fuel him.
The drums started again as Gnak strode away from the camp, his entire clan following to witness how he would slay the giant king. Approaching the huge beast, he accepted the cord from the boy he had placed as guard and turned to face those that saw honor and pride in his actions. Sneering at them, Gnak yanked the cord.
Without the ability to turn its head to relieve the pressure created by the pulled levers in its crown, as the hooks in both corners of its eyes were torn in opposite directions, the giant screamed in pain as its eye socket tore. As a natural reflex it attempted to jerk all four hands up towards its eye to protect it, but the result was devastating. Tearing chunks of its own flesh from its back along its spine, the huge iron rings there ripped free. Realizing its error too late, the giant flung its arms backwards, tearing more flesh from its chest, abdomen, and thighs. Blood vessels were torn asunder at every injury as blood began to pour from the numerous wounds. Unable to react in any logical way, the giant spasmed several times, probably in shock, tearing yet more hooks and rings from its flesh before it finally toppled over and crashed to the ground in a symphony of clanks and clangs, its screams rising as a great cloud of dust and sand rose into the air. The giant’s screaming and thrashing went on and on and on. Gnak didn’t move to end it. The Orcs just watched as he stood, letting the giant bleed to death slowly, its screams, a wretched, booming sound, drowning out all others. His clan did not react, did not make a single sound. But Gnak did.
Roaring in anger, he pulled the swords free from his back and charged Korx, his heart seeking revenge. Slashing and jabbing, Gnak attacked as his opponent fended him off with his own pair of crude blades. Their clan gathered around them, suddenly cheering and cajoling, though he did not hear their words, only hers. Thrusting forward, he watched as Korx twisted aside, barely escaping his strike before launching one in return. He did not even try to block it, instead letting it glance off his armor as he struck out again.
Thrusting and slicing, Gnak continued in his relentless rage. He managed to draw blood first, but the cut upon his opponent’s shoulder was minor. Good. He wanted him to die slow, like the giant king. He wanted him to suffer.
Around and around they went, neither gaining the advantage for a long time. Neither seemed to slow, neither tired. Gnak still did not relent, his mind full of rage, hatred, and disgust. But eventually the emotion faded, and only action remained and he realized something. His anger and rage were Orc anger and rage. Feel emotion, react. That was the way of his clan, not the way of Jen. No, she would want him to think ahead, plan, and focus. Fighting the urges that came with a life among his people, he put that version of Gnak aside and did as she had told him. He remembered her. And in doing so he found his advantage.
Watching Korx, and thinking instead of reacting, he could see the Orc’s weaknesses. Parrying a slicing blow, he struck out, stabbing his opponent in the thigh before kicking out with his foot, sending Korx sprawling backwards in a struggle to remain upright. Filled with Orcish anger and rage, when he recovered Gnak’s rival blindly charged again but Gnak sidestepped at the last moment, lashing out as his rival passed, slicing across the side of his ribs. Again Korx came.
Launching himself into the air, the Orc tried to spring upon Gnak, driving him bodily to the ground, and would have succeeded had Gnak not seen the move for what it was. Instead of diving aside, Gnak raised both of his blades, letting their edges absorb the momentum, slicing his enemy as he rolled backwards to the ground, Korx upon him, before shoving with both of his legs using every ounce of his strength. Korx was flung away using both his own momentum and Gnak’s strength, where he landed in a ball with a howl of both pain and rage.
Rising quickly Gnak turned and watched as his opponent gained his feet as well. From forehead to chin, Korx wore a deep gash that continued down his chest. A
cross his abdomen he wore another, where now he reached to hold his insides from spilling out. Such was his hatred of Gnak and his rage, however, that even defeated he did not relent, choosing a new weapon with which to attack Gnak.
“Korx cut her. Korx beat her. Korx use her body,” he grinned wickedly. “Kill her good.”
Gnak struggled to fight it, seeking out her memory to hold it at bay, but there was no use. Up came his rage again and he leapt upon Korx, smashing him to the ground as his guts spilled around him. Again and again he struck the Orc, his blades driving through him into the soil below. Over and over he hit the Orc, screaming out his hatred, roaring his pain. Again and again he lashed out as the body beneath him became unrecognizable, until the rage, as before, dissipated, leaving him exhausted and empty.
Dropping his blades as he rose to his feet, he turned and stumbled back towards the village, his clan parting before him and following behind. None of them spoke, curious of his actions. Ahead he moved across the sand, dragging his feet, all strength and purpose having left him. Still he continued on. With nothing left but the nothing she left behind, he fell to his knees and gathered her small lifeless body into his arms.
Smoothing her clothes and hair, he clung to her like a babe and petted her cheek, feeling her smooth skin with his fingers. Remember her, she had told him and he did. With pride he held her thoughts and wisdom within him, knowing it was better than his own. But still too he was empty. It was not enough. She was too much to let go. He knew not how to move forward, and wanted her words. But her blood dripped beneath her, coating his arms. And he knew that she was lost to him.
Destitute of anything but empty, soul-wrenching loneliness, he tilted his head back towards the heavens and screamed a seething growl of rage, crying out to the gods like no Orc before him. He demanded an answer of them, blinded by emotion, and invoked the only name she had told him that he could recall in that moment. The world around him was lost to him in that instant as all was obscured by his rage and tears but even so, he felt the tug and blinked to clear his vision.
Crying out to the gods, demanding of them an answer for allowing her to be taken away, he had not expected when one of them answered his call.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Blinking away the fog, Gnak found his arms empty and looking around him he realized that he was not where he should be. Below him a floor of stone leeched a cold chill into his armor, the surface riddled with slippery lichen, moss, and mold. Confused, he rose and explored his surroundings, finding himself trapped in a room of the same cold stone. No light shone in the damp place, the smell of decay within it pervasive. Seeking the outer wall, he followed it from corner to corner until he had inspected it in entirety, yet still no escape presented itself. In life, he was now just as alone as he was in his heart.
Defeated he turned, the breath catching in his chest, as he witnessed that which few mortals would ever share with him. Out of naught but darkness a shape coalesced, forming of the deepest shadows, it became more and more solid with each passing second.
Watching, Gnak dared not speak as the form grew in size, shape, and definition. It was a woman. Human, so far as he could tell. She was small, petite, with milky white skin and charcoal black hair that fell behind her in a long cascade. Upon her body, like he, she wore black armor that clung to her curves like a lover, accentuating her every perfection. But it was not the vision that stood before him that made him uncomfortable. No. It was her feeling. Gnak could feel the woman even though paces stood between them. Looking upon her, feeling the power she gave off, he knew what she was and he felt insignificant in her presence.
Watching as the process that created her slowed to completion, she turned to face him, and again his breath caught. She could have been Jen’s Ma, so alike were their features, the eyes alone setting them apart. For all the human that stood before him, it was the eyes that told him he stood in the presence of more. In her eyes no color shone. No white orbs sat within the sockets. Instead a hollow black that searched through his soul, looking through him to the core of his being. In those depths he could see infinity and knew that no matter his deeds, to her he was but a speck of dust in a vast ocean.
To his knees the proud Orc fell, prostrating himself before the tiny woman, his head bowing to touch the floor beneath him. A floor that made no sound as she approached.
“You dare to make demands of me?” Her strong voice filled the room.
It took several moments to piece a clear answer together, so distraught, confused, and pathetic he felt, but finally he decided upon one.
“No, goddess. Ask help. No demand.”
“You did demand, pathetic Orc. Who are you to command me?”
Again he struggled, discarding words, wishing he had a better command of the common tongue.
“No demand. No command. Gnak dumb Orc. Ask help. Serve.”
“You think that I should help one so pathetic as you?”
“Not think. Pray,” Gnak replied.
“What is it that you want, tiny Orc that you pray I help you?”
Gnak had the distinct feeling that she knew his answers before he spoke them, knew them even before she had appeared, but still he pieced together the thoughts to create the words he hoped would best convey his meaning.
“Want Jen back. No dead. Bring back.”
“You wish to bring back the dead? That is a great power, a great responsibility. What if it does not give you the satisfaction you seek? What if she hates you?”
“Bring back. I fix. Give precious life. Make OK.”
“Is that what you want, tiny Orc?”
“Yes, goddess.”
“And what will you do for me in return of this power?”
“I serve. I do you wish. All time. No ask.”
“You will serve me blindly, trust in my words, and ask no questions?”
“Yes. Trust like Jen.”
“And if your plans are ruined?”
“My decision. My fault. I serve,” Gnak answered, uncomfortably feeling that she knew the future and warned him of an impending doom that approached him, but he wanted more time with Jen at any cost. She alone could help him to make his people better. For a moment the goddess looked down upon him, a maelstrom of possibilities laying somewhere deep inside the black orbs that stood where her eyes should have been. Finally she spoke again, her voice both commanding and haunting, the sounds not matching the movements of her lips.
“Very well, pathetic Orc. I will give you the power you seek in return for unquestioning service. You can use the power to your own devices if you wish, but such power has consequence. Return to your people and use my gift to unite them. Create for me an army unlike any other seen upon Thurr.”
“Yes, goddess,” Gnak replied, the emptiness inside him seeming to subside.
“I am not finished, slave. Return to Thurr, and call me by name. Tell those that serve you that you serve me. Build me temples. Build me an empire. When this is done, I will send to you another of my servants and you will join him, and together you will conquer my enemies.”
“Yes, Ishanya. I serve. Your name, I tell.”
“Then I will open your eyes, tiny Orc, and show you what you need to revive those returned to the gods. You will recognize it, and you can summon it to you, but be wary, little Orc, you serve me, and if I see otherwise I will put you to an end without hesitation.”
Then she was gone. He sat upon the stone floor a long moment, wondering if she had been there at all. Deep inside he believed that she had been. That he had been in the presence of a god. That she had made him a bargain that suited his situation perfectly. She said he could bring Jen back. He could unite his people. He would build temples and cities and more, and eventually he would conquer whatever she wished. Gnak pressed his hands to the floor, pushing himself up as if to rise, when the dizziness overtook him.
With his world spinning, again the fog enveloped him and again he felt the tug to his mind. Clenching his eyes closed he ground his t
eeth, waiting for the feeling to relent. And then it was gone. Blinking again, he focused on those around him. They stood staring at him, their eyes wide and mouths hung open. Had he spoken his words in this place too? Had they heard him bargain with a god?
It didn’t matter. First he needed to figure out how to bring back Jen. Looking down to his arms he found that he still cradled her there. Her flesh grew darker, the veins standing in stark contrast to her skin. Shuffling his legs beneath him, in an effort to stand, he watched as her head tilted back slightly, her small mouth falling open. And then he saw it.
Like a small swirling orb of light, it came from her mouth and floated slowly up into the air. Not knowing what else to do, he pulled one arm out from beneath her tiny body and snapped the shimmering orb out of the air, closing his fingers around it. He could feel it… To him his hand glowed strangely.
It was not the sensation of holding an object in your hand, at least not on the surface of the skin. Instead it was a warmth, within his hand, a warmth that emanated up his arm, making it tingle strangely. He could feel the eyes of the clan upon him, and reminded himself that they could not see that which he now could.
Opening his hand once more, he turned his palm up and watched as the glowing orb extricated itself from his control, beginning to rise once again. He grabbed it.
Not knowing what else to do, he pressed his hand to Jen’s tiny chest, feeling the ragged edges of the wound beneath it, and waited. Nothing happened.
Lifting his hand once again, he sought out the orb but it was gone. Angered by his failure, knowing he would be without her after all, his emotions began to build within him again. Then she shuddered. The crowd of Orcs gasped.
Twisted Fate (Orc Destiny Volume I) (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) Page 11
