“And to think I’m headed there of my own free will. I’m the one who decided to head towards Zakorth, though I’ve seen with my own eyes how dangerous its inhabitants and the plains around it are!” But before the dilemma that had been torturing him for days filled his mind once again, he fell asleep.
A few hours later, the boy began walking again. He still didn’t let his mind wander to his many questions, however; he needed to put all his concentration on his surroundings, so he could decide where he was.
After a few minutes, he spotted some tracks that appeared fresh: the grass had been trampled, and hadn’t yet had time to recover. He looked around for a moment, trying to decide exactly what he was up against, and was surprised to find the remains of a campfire. “I can’t imagine orks have any great need for light in the evening,” thought Glaide. He decided that the traces must not belong to the usual monsters. That wasn’t any great relief, however, because in this area, humans, too, could be dangerous.
After a bit of reflection, he decided to follow the imprints and try to catch up to their owners. Then, if he saw they weren’t dangerous, he could enjoy a bit of company. If, however, he decided they were, he could just remain in hiding, or fight if necessary. And so the young man began tracking them.
He followed the path enthusiastically, constantly checking to see whether the imprints still appeared fresh or not. He finally decided it had to be a group of less than a dozen people, and that they weren’t traveling nearly as quickly as he was. He thought he would probably catch up to them the next morning. Several times, he found the remains of campfires, proof that the mysterious individuals had been doing nothing to hide their presence. Though Glaide couldn’t be certain he’d reached the territory of Zakorth, the plains around him seemed familiar, and he decided to go on the assumption that he was already in enemy territory. That left only two possibilities about the mindset of the strangers he was following: they were leaving tracks either because they were unaware of where they were, or because they knew exactly where they were... “I’m either following the tracks of unsuspecting innocents, or dangerous adversaries,” the adolescent told himself.
He didn’t discover anything unusual during the morning, but just as he finished eating a piece of bread—and so finished his lunch—the tracks suddenly and unexpectedly changed directions. Instead of continuing on ahead, they headed off to the right. There was no clue as to why they’d decided to change directions, but the boy decided to continue following them, to discover where they were headed and why. The response came shortly thereafter: a hundred yards away, he found a small battlefield strewn with bodies.
“Whew,” he murmured, “just goblins.”
The battle appeared to have been a violent one, and some bodies were covered in more blood than others, but happily, the monsters didn’t appear to have killed any of their opponents. The discovery left Glaide feeling rather perplexed, actually. As he continued to follow the tracks, he tried to make sense of it all. “One thing is certain,” he said. “Whoever I’m following can’t be allied with Zakorth, because why would they massacre their confederates like that? Plus, it seems like they headed towards that group of monsters intentionally, and that that was the explanation for their sudden detour.” So then, the question now was why the strangers were looking for a fight.
The afternoon was punctuated with similar finds to the last one: he found different places covered in the bodies of many different creatures—sometimes even satyrs—which prompted the young man to use ever more prudence in his travels. In his opinion, anyone able to take on those monsters ought to be an excellent swordsman indeed. Bit by bit, he began to have an idea of why the group might be motivated to make themselves so visible with their campfires, and to attack all of the adversaries that they crossed paths with, even seeking out those that passed by further away: vengeance.
“If I’m right, these people are my allies. However, I fear they’re unaware of the danger they’re really in...” He began to seriously worry when, towards the end of the afternoon, he found yet another battlefield. This time, it was some chimeras that had fallen to the deadly lunacy of the mysterious warriors. However, what alarmed the boy even more than the massive bodies of the monsters was the presence of a grave, easily recognized by the overturned soil.
“Good Lord, they lost a companion in this battle, and yet they continued to advance!” In fact, the tracks continued on their way as if nothing had happened at all.
“They must be either completely insane, or completely desperate,” he sputtered. The macabre discoveries continued up until the evening, and when Glaide decided to stop for the night, his count was alarming: the group he was following had lost half their number, so that if there were ten to start, only five remained, and yet they had not turned back. The adolescent couldn’t continue his investigation for the time being, however; with nightfall, he risked missing crucial details, and as significant as the situation seemed to him, that was not an option.
“Tomorrow morning, I’ll meet up with these people,” he told himself as he lay down on the ground. The dirt that had covered the last of the dead had still been moist; his grave couldn’t have been dug more than a few hours earlier. They couldn’t be far, and they were obviously taking their time.
“They seemed to be single-mindedly following a goal of killing as many of their enemies as they can.” With a sigh, he murmured, “At least they’ve cleared the way, so I can pass the night in hostile territory without any great risk.”
In the distance, he thought he could make out a campfire, but he couldn’t be sure.
The young man woke early, taking advantage of the first rays of dawn to navigate. If his calculations were right, he ought to reach Zakorth by the end of the day. Naturally, he didn’t intend to enter late in the evening, but rather to sleep a few hundred yards away from the main gate, so that he could enter early the following morning. Who could say what might await him there? And he preferred to have an entire day to spend investigating whatever was inside those walls. For the moment, however, he concentrated on the strangers that he had been following the day before, and who he should encounter shortly. He hoped that the night hadn’t seen any new confrontations, and that the small group had managed to retain their number.
In an hour, he found another camp. Unfortunately, despite the early hour, it was already abandoned. However, that meant there was no longer any doubt: the travelers couldn’t be more than a few hundred yards ahead. The embers of the fire were still glowing and a light stream of smoke still rose up from what had once been the fire pit. Glaide looked around for some clues so that he could continue in the right direction, but he discovered that the grass here was much shorter than what he had seen before, so that it camouflaged any signs of footsteps. While cursing the way luck had abandoned him so close to his goal, he took a few moments to search the area for any clues. Since he wasn’t exactly an expert in the field of tracking, it took him a solid hour before he spotted a fresh apple core.
“They must have headed this way,” he said. “If I’m right, Zakorth, too, ought to be in that direction. They’ve got a head start on me again, though, and I’d better catch up to them as soon as possible.” With that, he began walking more quickly. Along the way, he kept an eye out for signs that he was still going in the right direction, and the exhausting effort finally bore fruit: a little after noon, he reached the top of a hill where he found logs and rocks arranged in a circle. He could easily picture the five strangers sitting there for a discussion. “Where they discussing whether to continue or turn back?” Glaide wondered. “Or were they only taking the time to discuss what the best way to enter the enemy city might be?”
Again unsure about which direction to go, he set his gaze on the plain at the base of the hill, and two things leapt out at him: first, he saw a dark point in the distance, which he immediately identified as his destination. “And to think that when I was with my master and we saw that stain in the distance, we hurried on our way..
. and today, that’s exactly where I’m headed!” The second thing that he saw quickly stole his attention from the first, however: he saw five silhouettes moving through the center of the expanse of grass.
“There they are,” murmured the young man.
Suddenly, he spotted another group—bigger than the first—headed towards the group of strangers. They were still far off, but it seemed inevitable that the two would cross paths, and Glaide doubted that would be a peaceful meeting. Without taking a moment to think, Glaide raced down the hill and took off towards the oblivious strangers, who appeared to have decided to reach Zakorth no matter what the cost. He had only one idea in mind: get them to turn back before he found himself having to bury them.
“Hey,” cried the young man. “Wait!”
The strangers heard his call and turned, surprised. Their reaction proved to the adolescent that these were not trained soldiers. Anyone with even the tiniest bit of training would have immediately drawn their swords after hearing a voice in a place where no one usually went. They finally decided to react only after Glaide had already drawn close enough to see that all five of the strangers were men.
“Stay where you are, and identify yourself,” one called out. The young man didn’t have time to announce that he was the Destroyer, and besides, that would only have confused them. He continued to run, ignoring the order so that he could draw as close as possible. As he’d expected, the men threw themselves at him, taking him for an enemy. Short of breath, Glaide nonetheless managed to disarm them with just a few blows of the sword. Then, he took the time to sheath his weapon and catch his breath. The five men in front of him seemed frozen in place, not knowing how to react in the face of such strange behavior.
“Take up your weapons and sheath them,” ordered the boy. “I’m on your side, though I don’t have time to elaborate.” The men did so, then took up positions in front of Glaide, though this time at a respectful distance.
“Who are you, and what do you want?” demanded one warily.
“My name is unimportant, and in any case, you’ll discover who I am within a few weeks.” To himself, he added, “When everyone learns that the Destroyer has come.” Aloud, he continued, “As for what I want—I only want to save your lives.”
“We don’t know you. Why do you think we need your help?”
“For one thing, because no one in their right mind comes into the territory of Zakorth looking for a fight like you have, and secondly, because a group of enemies is headed in this direction right now.”
“We’ll cut them to pieces, just like the others,” cried one man, hatred filling his voice.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” roared Glaide in turn. “I’ve been following you for a day, and you’ve lost five of your comrades, and yet you continue heading towards that cursed village! You’re dead men walking! Do you understand what that means? You don’t know how to fight properly, your little battles are inflicting no significant losses for our enemies, and you’re all going to wind up dead!” Glaide was so worked up by that time that he was once again out of breath.
“What do our lives matter?” cried one. “We have nothing left, so we’ve nothing left to lose! This journey is the last we will make, and its only goal is to see us gone!” The declaration and the conviction gleaming in the eyes of the speaker left the young man without a voice.
“They’re insane,” he thought. “Insane with despair...”
“Listen,” he finally continued, forcing himself to speak calmly. “You don’t know me, but believe me, if your goal is to avenge something, you will not succeed like this. In a few minutes, a group of monsters will rise up in the distance. If they spot you, they will kill you, and you can give up even thinking about Zakorth. You’ll never reach it.”
“Then we’ll die trying. It’s too late to pull back. Our brothers have already given up their lives; we’ve passed the point of no return.”
“Their deaths are your fault,” replied the adolescent, his voice trembling with anger. “Their sacrifice was in vain. Do you hear me? Theirs, and yours as well. For those creatures, your bodies mean nothing. They’ll kill you as if you were mere animals, without even once thinking of the creatures you’ve put to rest. They aren’t like us! Vengeance and pain don’t exist in their hearts.”
The five companions made no reply, and judging by the bitterness on their faces, they had yet to give up their plan. Glaide knew, though, that he was speaking reason to them. If he could get them out of this murderous rage, which was nothing more nor less than a defense against pain, perhaps he could get them to think and change their minds. But just as he went to add something else, his heart skipped a beat. Behind the men and coming towards him, a noruk surged suddenly into view, followed by twenty orks.
Chapter 3
GLAIDE reacted instinctively. He drew his sword before anyone—friend or foe—managed to react, and cried out, “You morons, I don’t remember telling you to stop moving!” Stupefaction reigned from one group to the other. The moment the men turned and spotted the monsters a few yards away, however, they jumped back. The creatures immediately returned to their senses, but just as a battle cry climbed in the throat of one, the adolescent bellowed yet again. “Hey, who do you think’s in charge here? You want to end up like your five pals, with a sword through your body?”
One of the men turned towards Glaide, his face transfigured with indescribable rage.
“Traitor,” he hissed. The word pierced the adolescent like an arrow, carrying so much hate along with it. Nonetheless, he took the blow without protest. He dared not show the smallest sign of weakness, so he would have to play this role until he had everyone safe and sound.
“Are you in charge of these slaves?” growled the noruk, addressing Glaide. Behind him, the orks were beginning to look impatient, and Glaide thanked the heavens that an individual with the intelligence of a noruk led them, because then he had a chance of duping them.
“Yeah, that’s me,” he replied.
“Then why are they armed?”
The question took the young man by surprise. He had demanded that his chance companions take back their weapons, without even thinking that that would look suspicious. He let none of his distress appear on his face, however, and instead declared with a sadistic smile, “So when I get tired of them, I can make them hurt themselves, or kill their comrades.”
“You bastard,” cried one of the men.
Before Glaide could react, the noruk approached the troublemaker. With an incredibly rapid movement, he drew his hatchet and struck the man on the head with its handle. The adolescent couldn’t help but release a sigh of relief when he saw that the man remained living, a sigh that he quickly turned into a cruel smile.
“Silence!” ordered the noruk, before turning to Glaide to say, “We’ll accompany you to Zakorth.”
At that, Glaide felt his anger getting the best of him. Trying to control the tremble in his voice, he replied. “That isn’t necessary. I can deal with them myself. And besides, you certainly have other things to do.”
“These slaves seem ornery. If you’re alone, they might escape, and we won’t take that risk.”
Seeing that arguing was pointless, the adolescent let the creature take the lead. First off, it ordered the men to give up their blades. However, the boy insisted he take them, arguing that he could get a good price for them. The orks posted themselves to the right and left of their supposed prisoners, and Glaide drew up the rear. He thought quickly, trying to ignore the murderous glares of the five prisoners.
“Zakorth is only a few miles away,” he thought to himself. “If we reach the city, we’re doomed. Good grief... What do I do?” Suddenly, one of the men jostled against his guard, trying to escape. An ork drew his weapon, but before his sword could fall, the young man ran him through.
“What’s going on back there?” roared the noruk.
As naturally as possible, Glaide picked up the weapons that he had dropped and replied, “That imb
ecile tried to damage one of the slaves. I stopped him.” The creature made no comment in response, but ordered that none of the slaves be seriously injured.
“And that’s one down,” the adolescent thought to himself. He still couldn’t see any way to get rid of the rest of his adversaries without endangering the lives of his companions, however. All around him, he saw nothing but plains, so it would be impossible to look for a hiding place among any trees. On the other hand, he ought to be able to see any enemy reinforcements from quite a ways away, and he saw nothing along those lines, either. Nonetheless, he decided it would be best to verify that, and asked, “Is there anyone around to help if we need it?”
“No,” growled the noruk, “and besides, we need no help.”
“That’s what you think,” thought the boy with a smile. “But as soon as I come up with a plan, you’ll regret those words.” Unfortunately, however, no ideas came to mind, and suddenly, a village appeared before him on the horizon... A village that he recognized immediately, though he’d never seen it up close.
“Zakorth,” he couldn't help but murmur out loud. Then, to himself, he added, “No, not yet!” It was still a ways away, but for the first time, the young man could clearly see the city wall. Time was already ticking by, and with every step, they drew closer to the reinforcements that were certain to eventually arrive. He decided to use the one plan that had come to mind, even if he didn’t like how risky it was. Still encumbered by the five blades of his companions, he approached the noruk.
“Hey, why can’t we give these blades back to those men? They’re heavy, and I’m sick of carrying them.”
“You’re the one who wanted them.”
“Yeah, but why shouldn’t I make them carry them for me?”
“And if they decide to draw?”
“Then we could cut off an arm. We shouldn’t kill them: that’s what they want. But if they want to rebel, the fact remains that there are more of us, and we’ve had better training. We can simply disarm them and break a few fingers.”
Tranquility Page 2
