by Sam Ferguson
“So we are going to this X marked at the head of the Black River then?” Rafe asked.
“As quickly as possible,” Erik replied.
“Even if it takes us through orc territory and right by their stronghold in these parts?” Rafe asked.
Erik nodded decisively. “I can handle the orcs if we run across them.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to go around them rather than risk a fight?” Rafe insisted. “I mean, I’m as game as the next guy to swing a sword, but there are only three of us. An orc stronghold will be full of capable warriors.”
“You are free to stay with the Cult of Zammin, if you wish.” With that, Erik turned and continued on at a brisk pace. As the day wore on and the sun sank lower in the sky, turning the air cooler, they began to jog. Before darkness came, they had traveled thirty miles on foot. They ate some of their food from their packs while continuing to walk as night overtook the land. Lady Arkyn led the way now, using her superior vision to help them avoid obstacles. They traveled for five days like this, running for as long as they could and walking when they needed rest. On the morning of the sixth day, after sleeping for the last three hours before the sunrise, they found themselves surrounded by a group of orcs on horseback.
“I told you,” Rafe said as he jumped to his feet and went for his sword.
A pair of orcs fired arrows into the ground next to his foot as a warning.
“I’ll handle this,” Erik said.
“Be careful,” Lady Arkyn said. “If they know who you are, they aren’t likely to be happy about how many of their kin you have sent to the underworld.”
Erik smirked. He held his right hand up, and slowly loosened his sword belt with his left hand. After dropping the weapon to the ground, he walked up to a particularly large orc sitting atop a chestnut colored horse.
“Titalok a mi foldunkon,” the large orc snarled.
Erik nodded. In pure, crisp orcish he replied, “I am sorry for the trespass, but it is necessary.”
The large orc’s eyes went wide and he looked to the warrior on his right. Then he turned his big, brown eyes back to Erik. “You speak our language? What kind of man are you?”
“I am a warrior, like you,” Erik said. “I learned your language while staying with the Fire-oak tribe far to the south.”
“The Fire-oak clan let you live?” the large orc asked incredulously.
“I performed a favor for the chief there, and was made blood kin to the orcs of the Fire-oak tribe.”
The large orc swung down from his horse and pulled a massive knife from his belt. He put the blade up to Erik’s throat. “You lie! No human scum can ever become blood kin to the orcs.”
“Do I flinch, brother?” Erik asked as he remained perfectly still. He had expected the challenge, but knew from his time living with the Fire-oak tribe that the correct response was unflinching courage and a calm voice. “If you wish to make this a test of strength, then I will oblige, but that is not necessary.”
From behind him, Erik could hear Rafe asking Lady Arkyn about his ability to speak orcish.
“Shut up!” Lady Arkyn said harshly.
Erik paid them no mind. He knew that Lady Arkyn would follow his lead. She may not understand the words he was using, but she knew him well enough to read his body language. So long as he did not make a move to attack, she would keep Rafe in check to avoid a struggle.
“Tell me, human, why would the Fire-oak clan accept you?”
Erik stared back into the orc’s eyes without wavering or blinking. He knew that orcs would view breaking eye contact as weakness or guile, for only those who had no secrets to hide could look an orc in the eye. “I fought for the chief, and I slew many enemies.”
“Why?” the orc pressed. “Why would he accept you to fight for him? Was he weak?”
Erik shook his head. “No, the chief fought bravely with me in every encounter. There are none in the Fire-oak tribe that are weak. The males and females all fought with me, and I was honored to fight alongside them, for we had a mutual enemy. There were seven demons that were coming up from the underdark. I was hunting the demons when the Fire-oak tribe caught me. When I explained my purpose, they let me live so long as I did not turn away from battle. We lost many good warriors as we assaulted the demons, but we killed all seven, and the Fire-oak tribe is now stronger for it, and has received Hatmul’s favor through their valor.”
The large orc grunted and came in closer with his face. He sniffed Erik with his large, greenish nose and then pulled back with a nod. “The human tells the truth.”
“Then he is blood kin?” the other warrior asked.
The large orc nodded. “This is an orc in human skin, brothers. He is to be treated with respect.”
“What proof does he have that he is telling the truth?” another warrior barked from somewhere behind Erik.
“What’s going on?” Rafe asked nervously.
“Keep quiet,” Lady Arkyn commanded.
“Do you have any proof?”
Erik slowly turned over his right hand and displayed a long, thin scar that ran across his palm. “This is where the chief cut me open to mingle our blood together,” Erik said. “I have no other tokens or proof, but this, coupled with the fact that I can speak in your tongue, should be enough to show you that I speak the truth.”
The large orc pulled his knife away from Erik’s neck and sheathed it. “I am Lubbok, Prince of the Yellow-wing clan. I can lead you to our stronghold, and there we can feast your arrival, brother.” Lubbok reached out and clasped Erik’s right hand in his and gave it a hearty, single shake.
“I fear I cannot dally,” Erik said. This refusal caused murmurs to ripple through the warriors on horseback, as he had expected. It was an insult to refuse an orc’s invitation, but Erik knew the appropriate apology. “Though it pains me to refuse, I have a matter of honor that I must attend to, otherwise I would be unworthy to accept your offer.”
Lubbok’s angry eyes softened. “What troubles you, brother?”
“I am pursuing a murderer who killed many people dishonorably,” Erik said. As violent and bloodthirsty as the orcs were, murder was not a crime their society tolerated. It was considered most foul and dishonorable to them to murder someone. The warriors on horseback all snarled and spat on the ground to display their disgust at hearing the word.
“Then I withdraw my invitation,” Lubbok said. This was the sign that no offense was taken at being refused. It allowed both parties to save face in front of all witnesses, but Lubbok took it one step further. “As I have never before thought it possible that a human would fight alongside my people, I wish to offer my blade to you, now. Let me fight alongside you, and we will resolve this matter of honor together, and both thereby prove our valor.”
Erik had not expected that at all. He nodded his agreement. “I am honored already by your willingness to assist me, brother,” Erik replied.
“Then it is settled,” Lubbok said. “Gonsar, Mordin, you will come with me. I will need three additional horses. The rest of you will return to my father and inform him that I am going with our brother to bring a murderer to justice.”
Within seconds, three horses were brought to Erik and the orcs split into two groups.
“Allow me to tell my companions what is happening,” Erik said. Lubbok nodded and waved toward Rafe and Lady Arkyn with a massive left arm that was covered in scars.
Erik returned to them with a large smile. “It seems that we will have some reinforcements,” he said.
“Orcs?!” Rafe stammered. “But—”
Erik lightly backhanded Rafe in the stomach. “Keep your voice down. They have agreed to not only let us pass, but are also going to provide us with horses, and three warriors, including Lubbok, their prince. But, I must warn you, they will not tolerate insults, so keep your prejudices to yourself,” Erik told Rafe.
“You believe we can trust them?” Lady Arkyn asked.
Erik nodded. “When I joked about Grisel
da… I left a few things out,” Erik said. Lady Arkyn shot him a puzzled look. “We didn’t get involved or anything, but she was the daughter of a chief whose tribe I lived with for a long time.”
“You lived with orcs?” Lady Arkyn asked.
Erik smiled. “As I said, a story for another time, but to the orcs, I am considered a brother, an adopted member of their society if you will. So long as we avoid offending these orcs, then we will have no troubles.”
“Well,” Rafe began, “I thought we had gotten to know each other pretty good but it turns out you are just full of surprises.” He smiled then and poked Erik in the ribs. “You don’t happen to have a secret hoard of treasure somewhere I could dip into for a… business venture, do you?”
Erik answered the probing question with a wink and then turned back to speak to Lubbok. “The female is known as Lady Arkyn, and the male is called Rafe.”
Lubbok nodded. “If they are with you, then we will count them as part of our group as well. Come, let us eat and discuss this murderer, then we can be on our way.”
Erik knew better than to refuse this offer. He was in charge of the group, and Terramyr was indeed in great danger, but having three orcs along for the journey was like adding a compliment of ten human warriors to their group. Insulting them now and losing that, as well as the horses they offered, would hurt far more than the hour or two required for a proper orcish breakfast.
The six of them gathered around a large fire pit a few minutes later. Lubbok had his warriors go and fetch a deer, of which there were plenty a short distance away. They roasted the animal until the meat was done to perfection, and then they sat around the fire and ate until the meat was entirely devoured. The three orcs ate the larger portion of the animal, but Erik did well in keeping up with them. Lady Arkyn put away a surprising amount of food before she had to slow down as well, which impressed the three orcs. Rafe was the one who ate the least, which drew a bit of jeering from Lubbok.
“What is he saying?” Rafe asked after Lubbok had made his fourth comment about how little the sailor could eat.
Erik, not wanting to lie to either party and risk adding tension, turned and told Rafe the truth. “He says you must be weak, eating so little.”
“I ate at least a couple pounds worth of venison,” Rafe objected.
Lubbok wiped his mouth on his right forearm and gestured with his chin at Rafe. “What does he say, brother?” Erik sighed and interpreted what Rafe had said. Lubbok began to laugh. “My son can eat the same amount, and he is only three summers old.”
Erik smiled and turned to inform Rafe what Lubbok had said.
The sailor grudgingly reached out and took a large portion of meat from the carcass and tore into it with a bite too large for his mouth, staring at Lubbok all the while. The amount of meat he had in his mouth was so much that he had to take gaping bites to try and chew it down, but rather than pull anything out and make it easier on himself, he continued chewing and chomping, with bits of meat hanging out over his mouth.
Lubbok smiled approvingly. “He has spirit,” he told Erik.
Erik nodded. “He has done well on the journey so far.”
“What dangers have you faced, brother?” one of the other orc warriors asked.
Erik stroked his chin and set his pile of ribs aside. “I slew a shadowfiend in Pracheloor Cave,” he said.
Lubbok snarled and the three orcs spat on the ground. Magic users were only slightly more tolerable to orcs than murderers. “Magic is the way of cowards,” Lubbok said in disgust. “You did well to slay the creature. An honorable feat.”
Then there was a compliment of human archers and a wizard that followed us from the mainland when we began sailing northward.”
“How many archers?” Chabba, the youngest of the orcs asked.
Erik shook his head. “Not sure, perhaps two score.”
“And you defeated them all?” Chongor asked.
Erik nodded. “Lady Arkyn and I fought them together. We also killed a few dragon-slayers.”
Lubbok pointed at Erik with a freshly cleaned thigh bone. “The archers are weak, save for the number of them, but dragon-slayers are great warriors. Another honorable victory, brother.”
Erik bowed his head, accepting the compliment. “Later, we hired Rafe to sail us through the Natchy Moors.”
“The what?” Chongor asked.
“The cursed waters,” Lubbok explained. “The land was covered in a dense fog, and there were many monsters, yes?”
“Yes,” Erik replied.
Lubbok nodded. “Then what you call the Natchy Moors, we call the cursed waters. Many orcs have tested their mettle in those parts, especially old males who have passed their prime and wish to die with honor.”
“We slew many monsters there,” Erik said.
“What kinds?” Chabba asked.
“Large things that were like bats, and a giant octopus that was trying to wreck our ship.”
“How did you survive?” Chongor inquired. “No insult intended, but there are only three of you.”
“Do you have magic, brother?” Chabba pressed. Their tones had gone from curious to distrusting and guarded.
Erik shook his head. “I am not a wizard,” he replied. He decided it best not to mention the fact that he could transform into a dragon. “Lady Arkyn has some powers, but mainly she uses them to communicate with animals, nothing more.”
“Speaking with animals is a skill,” Lubbok insisted. “It is not magic, nor is it a tool used by cowards.”
“And the sailor, does he use magic?” Chabba asked.
Erik shook his head. “He uses only a sword.”
“And you slew the bats and the octopus?”
Erik nodded. “Yes.”
“Then you are a great warrior indeed,” Lubbok announced. Chabba and Chongor nodded their agreement. “No orc has ever returned from the cursed waters.”
Erik thought about telling them of Vodklyk, but he knew that the orcs would not like hearing that Erik had retreated. Retreat was rarely a strategy used by orcs. They preferred to fight with their full force, never turning aside, as death in battle was preferable to running away. More than that, the orcs worshipped the gods that ruled Hammenfein. If he were to tell them that Vodklyk, a servant of those gods, had attacked them, the orcs may take that as a sign that Hatmul was displeased with Erik. They were impressed enough as it was, there was no reason to bring up any additional troubles.
“Tell me of this murderer,” Lubbok said. “Is he strong?”
Erik shrugged. “To tell the truth, he is smart and cunning. He uses magic,” all of the orcs spat in disgust, “and he has killed many men. I do not know his name, I am following his trail and looking for clues to his identity.”
“But you are certain he is here, in our lands?” Lubbok asked.
Erik sighed and shook his head. “To be honest, I am not sure he is in the Northern Territory at all, but there is someone here who can help me. The clues I will find in the east will help me solve the riddle.”
“I see,” Lubbok stated as he tore off another piece of meat and chewed it quickly. “Then, we should hurry, and set out before the trail becomes lost.”
Erik nodded.
Lubbok turned to Chabba and Chongor. “Scatter the bones and put out the fire. We ride to the east.”
Erik turned and told Arkyn and Rafe that they were about to leave. Rafe rolled his eyes and looked down at a large amount of meat still in his hand while rubbing his burgeoning stomach. Erik then got to his feet. Lubbok stood and came in close, putting a massive hand on Erik’s shoulder. He leaned down to Erik’s ear.
“Brother, there is something you should know about the forest beyond our lands,” he said. “There are elves there, but they are not like your friend. They are wild and savage, living in the trees and attacking anyone who enters the woods. It is not likely that we can get through without a confrontation.” Lubbok pulled away and then glanced to Lady Arkyn. “You should warn her, so sh
e understands that she will be fighting a people that look like her, but are not, in fact, her people. They are wild, savage creatures.”
Erik nodded. “I will tell her.”
“Is he talking about me now?” Lady Arkyn said as she approached them. “I ate more food than Rafe, so there shouldn’t be anything to make fun of.”
“I heard that,” Rafe said as he struggled to get up, groaning like an old man after mid-summer’s feast.
“No, he was warning me that there is a group of savage elves in the woods to the east. He says they will attack us, or anyone that enters the forest, upon sight. He wanted you to know that they are not your people.”
“All elves are my people,” Lady Arkyn replied indignantly. “I should be happy to see them.”
“No, I don’t think so,” Erik said. “Remember, I can use my gift to scan the intentions of others, it works with orcs as well as humans or elves. He is sincere in his desire to warn you.”
Lady Arkyn arched a brow over her bright, green eyes and put a hand on her hip. “What is the name of their city? I am sure we can arrange for safe passage.”
“She does not believe me?” Lubbok cut in.
Erik held a hand up to ask both of them to wait. He was finding interpretation to be a little more work than he had expected. He turned to Lubbok. “You say the elves have no city?”
Lubbok shook his head.
Erik turned back to Lady Arkyn. “The elves have no city. He says they live in the trees. I suggest we trust him.”
Lady Arkyn let her hand slip off her hip and then gave a single nod. “Very well, but if I get the chance, I will try to talk with them. No use shedding elven blood if we can use our words. We have enough people to fight.”
Erik and Lubbok both bowed their heads as Lady Arkyn turned to gather her belongings.
“She also has spirit,” Lubbok said. “I don’t know her words, but it seemed to me that she wants to try reasoning with the savage elves, am I right?”
Erik smiled. This particular orc was smarter than he looked. “You are correct, brother.”
“Then when she does, we will be nearby. When her words fail to convince the savage elves, we will be ready to shield her. You have my word, brother.”
