Cormac shot up painfully, not giving his stagnant body time to adjust. “What?! Ye mean to tell me we slept a whole day?!”
Fangdarr simply shrugged in response. “We were tired.”
“Aye, ye ain’t jestin’. Well, at least this spot was safe. The marshes must deter most anything from coming this way.” The dwarf propped himself to his knee before rising, this time going more slowly to give himself time to adjust. He stretched as Fangdarr did, though, even with his hands reaching as high as they could, they still only came to Fangdarr’s chest. “Right, we need breakfast.” The dwarf started reaching for his pack to search for food but halted. “Ye know, I think I could go for some real food. Not the same scratch we’ve been livin’ on for days. Aye?”
Fangdarr nodded happily in agreement. After the struggle through the marsh and their seemingly endless rest, he would welcome a fresh meal. “We hunt?” he asked the dwarf.
Cormac sat in contemplation for a moment before replying, “Aye, we certainly could. There is also a human village a half day’s walk west of here, if ye want to risk that.”
The orc pondered but denied the suggestion. “No, not in mood for humans today.”
“Right, I’m with ye on that one.” He tossed Fangdarr an unstrung bow from the pack and a string. Fangdarr quickly strung the crude bow and retrieved two arrows from the bag as well.
“Bear, wake up,” the orc said lightly as he massaged his pet’s fluffy ears with his free hand. The animal opened her eyes and looked at him in confusion. “It time to hunt.” She rolled onto her back and splayed her limbs out, stretching them as far as they would go—drawing a hearty laugh from Cormac. As her stretch concluded, she shifted back to her legs and wiped her cold nose on Fangdarr’s face in greeting.
“That beast sure is fond of ye, orc,” Cormac stated, a hint of jealousy in his voice.
Fangdarr could only smile and rub her ears once more. “I fond of her, too. She good bear.”
The dwarf chuckled and slung the pack over his shoulder before strapping his shields back onto his arms. “Right, best we get goin’, I reckon.”
They started south toward the mountains and back into the dense forest. They were much nearer today than two days before, that much was certain. By now, they could barely see the summits from their location. They still had much journeying, but Fangdarr was eager to be in sight of his goal. He kept his bow strung and an arrow nocked, ready to fire at the first sight of a walking meal.
Fangdarr led the party slowly through the wood, careful to place each footfall in silence. Despite his enormous stature, the orc could stalk noiselessly when he needed. Cormac, on the other hand, had a hard time hushing the constant scraping of the thick steel plates of his armor. Nevertheless, they continued their search certain that eventually their luck would change.
A long while passed with not even a squirrel, bird, or rabbit in sight. His stomach grumbling, Fangdarr turned to his early warning system. Cormac looked up at him and spoke first. “Eh, maybe I’m for thinkin’ I should stay here. No critter is goin’ to show its face with me makin’ all this racket.”
Fangdarr was glad Cormac had said it first. Truthfully, he wished it had been brought up much earlier. The orc was now ravenous. Already he could feel his muscles beginning to tire from lack of sustenance. Even still, he could not abandon his friend. They had been separated for too long during their last encounter, and Fangdarr aimed to keep the dwarf close.
“We try bit longer,” he offered, much to Cormac’s delight for not being left behind. “Look,” Fangdarr said, wetting his finger and sticking it into the air beside him, “wind change direction. We downwind now. Our scent masked.”
Cormac licked his own stubby finger and tested the air as well. “By the stones, you’re right, Fang! HAH! Take that ye stinkin’ critters! Even Cerenos wants ye in our tummies! Bahahah!”
The ignorant orc blinked curiously at his companion. “Cerenos?”
“Elven forest god. They think he be the cause of all nature, even the wind.”
Fangdarr simply shrugged. He cared little for religion, though it drove so many. In his mind, there was only the here and now, where one must accomplish what he wished on his own through blood and combat. All other notions he considered false—or at least too complex to consider investing time in. His ‘religion’ was simple. If I can kill it, I am better than it. His mind reenacted the terrible scene of his dance with death under the depths, deep in the embrace of a creature so powerful and terrifying that he would easily assume someone must have considered it a god or demigod. Yet, Fangdarr emerged the victor. Therefore, he was superior. A smile found its way to his face.
They continued south through the forest, this time with wind as their ally. Fangdarr began to see woodland creatures fading from view much later than before. It wouldn’t be long, now. Cormac and Bear could sense it as well, for they now crept even more quietly.
The dwarf spotted a fawn to his left that had strayed too far from its mother. His eyes were so riveted on the creature—mouth salivating to the point of dripping—he failed to notice Fangdarr stopped in front of him. Cormac bumped into the orc with a dull thud, “Oye! What ye stop for?”
A large black hard slowly patted the air in front of the dwarf’s face, begging for silence. Cormac instantly hushed himself and took in his surroundings more keenly. “Ye smell that?” he asked after a few moments of sniffing.
The orc nodded. “We not alone.”
“Aye, and if me nose be true, that’s meat over a fire, or I’m a bearded gnome.”
Fangdarr agreed. Even Bear started whimpering lightly at the smell of meat cooking upwind. The scent of searing flesh carried itself down to them, teasing their nostrils with succulent, juicy flavors that promised a full belly and content nap. “We get closer?” he asked.
Cormac pondered for a moment. “Hmm, a small party would have no need for that much meat. Though, they may be thinkin’ to preserve it. On the other hand, a party that needs that much meat is . . .” he didn’t need to finish the sentence. Both were well aware of that outcome. “But, me stomach is forcin’ the answer to be yes. We get closer.”
Once again Fangdarr nodded his agreement. Normally, they would not risk such an act, but their growing hunger propelled them forward. Sure, they could eat the provisions they had packed away, but they needed to save those for the mountains, if possible. There would be no dwelling squirrels or rabbits there.
The group continued forward in search of the origin of the smell that taunted and tantalized them so cruelly. Bear led the way now, too eager to remain at the back of their procession. Her speed increased progressively as the scent grew stronger.
“Bear, wait,” Fangdarr whispered, but it was no use. The hungry beast trod along vigorously toward the meal to come. The orc increased his pace, as did Cormac, in an attempt to catch up to her. “Bear! Wait!” he half-whispered half-yelled to his companion. Unheeding, she accelerated even more, rushing nose first out of view. He cursed his luck at having such a voracious beast for a companion. It would have been so much easier to keep an eye on a turtle.
By the time Fangdarr and Cormac had made it to the point where Bear had disappeared, they stopped. The smell of the food was heavy now, and they were extremely close to whoever was cooking it. Fangdarr expected to hear yells or some sort of outcry as he could only assume Bear was now rampaging around in her pursuit. Yet despite his beast’s possible need for assistance and his own stomach’s moan, he chose to exercise caution, inching quietly toward the final layer of brush standing between them and the camp. Slowly, he poked his head through the brush to determine what they were dealing with.
The moment his face popped out of the vegetation and his eyes took in the view, Bear jumped directly into his face. Both crashed to the ground in a heaping mound of fur and flesh, drawing a groan from Fangdarr. Bear was up in an instant, happily wiggling her rear in anticipation. Cormac tried to hide a chuckle but failed, as always. In the mouth of their companion was the entire
fawn that had been roasting over the fire. Even now, smoke still sizzled and steamed from the carcass as it made contact with the dewy leaves of the brush Bear had jumped through.
Cormac and Fangdarr simply looked to each other, then to Bear. A moment of quiet went by before the dwarf spoke. “Well, the deed is done, lad. Might as well dig in and take our leave.” Cormac bent down and ripped a haunch from the charred carcass, and the orc, ignoring his previous apprehension, tore off his own piece of meat and took a bite. Ecstasy rushed through his body as the succulent meat shredded between his teeth and his tongue soaked the juicy wetness of the first fresh meal he had feasted on in days.
Bear now chomped down on the remaining carcass vigorously, ready to devour the entire animal. Each of their minds were too shrouded by the scrumptious meal that they failed to notice the enormous tree trunk swinging in from the side.
It crashed into Bear as she took her second bite. She landed a body’s length away with a whimper.
“Git ‘em!” a gruff voice shouted as Fangdarr and Cormac still had their mouths full of their third bite of meat. Four ogres of enormous magnitude rushed forward, toppling the small trees that surrounded the party. The supposed leader of the monsters held the tree which had bashed Bear out like a spear and threw it directly at Cormac. Unsuspecting and slowed by his lasting hunger, the dwarf hardly managed to put a shield arm up to intercept the projectile that tripled his height. He cursed as his arm could not brace against the impact with enough strength to fully deflect the blow. Fangdarr was too distracted by the other three charging foes to notice as his friend was knocked back near his animal companion with an oof!
The orc, also suffering heavily from lack of energy, instantly triggered his adrenaline and rage, granting him a slight amount of reserved strength. Driktarr found its way to his hand as he assumed his battle stance. Fangdarr defiantly roared into the face of the three enemies that were now only a few strides away. If they had any concern or felt any intimidation, it did not show. Instead, they met his challenge and returned the roar with one combined outcry that easily overtook his own threatening sound.
Fangdarr cared little. The roar was only meant to distract his attackers. Ogres were massive creatures, amounting to twice his height and girth, though lacking in intelligence. The orc was more thoughtful than the average battle-driven grunt. He knew they would return his challenge, and he also knew they would close their eyes to make their roar as loud as possible—while running straight toward him.
Driktarr cocked behind his shoulder at the ready, the orc eagerly waited for the perfect moment to swing. At the last possible moment, he unleashed his beloved axe in a single tremendous blow at the outermost monster while side-stepping further right to avoid the stampeding ogres.
The creature let out a horrendous groan of agony as the greataxe lodged deep into its abdomen. To Fangdarr’s surprise the axe did not travel entirely through its stomach. Instead, its motion halted just after the navel before getting stuck. Curse this exhaustion! His rage and lust for the blood to be spilled was not enough to overcome the needs of his muscles. If only the ogres had attacked after he and the others had taken a few more bites. Luckily, Driktarr had taken in its fill of blood, transferring some of the energy back into him.
Fangdarr watched in concern for a moment as the two charging creatures turned toward Cormac and Bear, each carrying a sharpened pike made from thick branches in their hands, ready to skewer their prey. Fangdarr pulled with all his might, putting a heavy foot against the dying ogre, in order to free his axe, but it would not budge. The thick, mottled skin and bloodied organs of the beast had enclosed the axe, locking it in place. The orc knew he did not have the time to fuss with his weapon while three assailants remained.
Cormac was still disoriented from blocking the flying tree, but he noticed the two ogres rushing ferociously in his direction. He motioned for Bear to get behind the tree that stood arm’s length behind them as he prepared for the assault. She whimpered at the thought of leaving him alone but complied. Truthfully, the dwarf would rather have her at his side, but she could never hope to prevent herself from being impaled by the makeshift pikes now coming toward them.
“Come then, ye stupid brutes!” he shouted from behind his raised shields, hoping to enrage the ogres.
The captain got his wish. Both now sped forward, closing the distance by bounds. Each took the most simplistic form of attack—stab the closest enemy! Cormac expected as much from ogres and held a sturdy shield in place, ready for each incoming spear. Both wooden spikes shattered instantly against his superior steel, but not without the force of the strike sending Cormac into the tree and knocking him unconscious.
Fangdarr howled and charged forward toward his fallen ally. His roar forced the nearest ogre to turn to face him while the other raised a meaty fist in the air, ready to pummel the motionless dwarf.
Bear sprung from behind the tree and latched her strong maw onto the calf of the monster who aimed to crush Cormac. The ogre let out a yelp of pain which quickly shifted to anger. It wrapped a massive hand around Bear’s back leg and tried to pull her off. She bit down harder in stubbornness, refusing to relent. But her leg was starting to break—the monstrous creature possessed too much strength. Her jaw unclenched from the muscle of her prey with a whine. No longer latched, her attacker held her firmly by the leg and lifted her in the air, dangling her directly over its gaping mouth.
Fangdarr, still a few paces away, watched in horror. Unarmed, outnumbered, and with another ogre blocking his path, he could only stare in fear as his companion drifted closer and closer to the rotted teeth and stinking breath of the monster that intended to eat her alive.
From behind, he heard a cry of pain—one he could only assume came from an ogre. Still charging forward, he cast a quick glance back. His eyes widened in horror as he watched the lead ogre place its large, disgusting foot over the head of its ally and tug on Driktarr. It ripped the axe free from its companion, re-opening the wound that had sealed around the weapon. Blood and gore exploded with the unleashing of the axe. In the final pull, the monstrous foot of the ogre crushed down into the skull of his comrade. Shattered fragments of bone and a spray of squishy brain bits flung in every direction.
The orc took one more look behind him. As the sun crept past the horizon, its bright rays both outlined a figure and momentarily blinded Fangdarr. As his sight returned, the leader of the band of ogres could be seen slowly walking toward him, Driktarr in hand.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
NIGHTMARES
Bitrayuul turned his head to be certain Tormag and Malice still trailed behind. They had been riding hard for a while, fearful of being pursued by the unrelenting assassin. The sun was in its final descent. He knew the horses needed rest. The beasts had been pushed at a gallop since their departure.
The half-orc slowed the horses to a jog, then to a brisk trot, careful not to cramp their muscles with an immediate halt. Their breathing came in pants and gasps as they walked forward, eventually slowing to a halt. Bitrayuul dismounted tenderly to avoid cutting the animal with his sharp-edged armor. Once his feet were planted firmly on the ground, he rubbed the face of each beast in appreciation.
He had chosen a spot with a small pond, so his horse’s tether in hand, the half-orc walked toward the glistening pool and allowed the beast to drink. Tormag and Malice caught up quickly on their own horse and followed suit. Malice seemed to be back to her former self. Her afflictions came and went but she did not look like someone who had just almost been executed. Bitrayuul eyed her curiously, wondering if she even remembered what had occurred.
“We will make camp here, then continue south before dawn,” he said to his companions.
“Ye know this be Orclands?” Tormag questioned.
His son contemplated the warning then responded, “Just a short rest, the horses cannot continue. Then we will head south and west, away from the Zharnik village.”
“Aye, but this be a water hole, Bit.
Don’t ye doubt we might not be the only visitors here tonight.”
Malice chimed in quickly, “Orcs? I’m sure we can handle our own.” Her pale hands instinctively gripped the pommels of her weapons at her waist. Bitrayuul had forgotten that she was so conditioned to attack orcs on instinct. He reminded himself to keep his helmet on.
“Let us hope none are thirsty,” he added.
Within short order, the group had a minor encampment set up, though they built no fire. After allowing their mounts to drink their fill, they pulled the animals over to their camp a ways off from the pond.
Tormag passed around pieces of provisioned meat to his comrades, secretly missing the savory tender pieces that had entered his stomach earlier in the day. “Who be takin’ first watch?” he asked as he finished handing out the scraps.
“I will,” Bitrayuul responded. “I am still capable. Your ride together has left you both sore, I’m sure.”
The dwarf had to admit Bitrayuul’s words were true. Riding with a human woman twice his height in the same saddle was a trek accompanied by aches. Tormag laid his head on the soft grass. Despite being in his plate armor, the dwarf drifted to sleep within moments, snoring lightly.
Orcblood Legacy - Honor Page 22
