The Andor: Book One of the Legends of Tirmar

by Mark Dame

  “I’ve never forgotten what Gudbrant did for me that day. If he hadn’t seen me, or convinced me to come out, I would have died out there. For a long time, I wished I had. The Thane found a family to take me in and raise me, and Gudbrant checked in on me almost every day. As I grew older, he taught me how to hunt and fish and ride a horse. Eventually he gave me my first sword and taught me how to fight. When I was old enough, I joined the militia. That was before it was mandatory for men to join when they came of age. I did it more than to just avenge my family. I did it because I wanted to be like Gudbrant.

  “You asked me why I agreed to come with you. I would do anything Gudbrant asked of me. There is no doubt of that. But my hatred of the orcs is stronger than my desire to live. I have no illusions that I’ll ever see my mother or my sister again, but if there’s a chance of rescuing Brenna…”

  Randell was quiet for a moment, then turned to Flyn. “If I can help you rescue your friend, then perhaps I may gain some peace. But I suggest you prepare yourself for failure. I have never heard of anyone being rescued from Jarot or any of his garrisons. His orcs seem just as content to kill humans as they do capturing them in the first place. Of course, the Ilfin clan is not really known for their fighting skill. Most would prefer to negotiate a peaceful solution than fight, but Jarot isn’t interested in negotiating. Trying to convince them is like trying to get a horse to fly.”

  Flyn just nodded. Randell’s story made him feel foolish about his own quest. Kel was like his brother, but Randell had lost his whole family. What right did Flyn have to ask his aid? He couldn’t imagine going through what Randell had lived through.

  “Thank you,” Flyn said after a while. It was all he could think to say.

  “I didn’t mean to bring you down,” Randell said, smiling. “But you asked. I haven’t spoken of it in a long time, though I think about my family nearly every night before I fall asleep. I think maybe telling you helps me see my purpose in this quest a little clearer as well.”

  “So, tell me about Gudbrant,” Flyn said.

  Randell laughed. “Gudbrant. Now that’s a subject that will take the entire journey to discuss. What would you have me tell you?”

  “Why don’t you tell me about—”

  Randell stopped, putting his arm across Flyn’s chest to stop him as well. He crouched down and eased off the road to the wood line, pulling Flyn with him.

  “What is it?” Flyn whispered.

  “I thought I saw movement on the road up ahead.”

  The moon was bright in the sky, allowing them to see the road and the tree line fairly well, albeit in shades of gray. Flyn looked, straining his eyes, but he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, moving or still.

  “There!” Randell whispered and pointed to a spot a hundred yards away where the road curved to the left.

  Flyn looked, but saw nothing but road and dark forest. Beside him, Randell was on his knees, sword in hand. Flyn hadn’t even seen him draw it. His heart racing, he drew his own. The only sound he could hear was his pulse pounding in his ears.

  Then, after several long minutes, Flyn finally saw something. A shadow slowly detached from the wood line and began moving toward them. Then another followed.

  Flyn’s mouth went dry, his chest and stomach tightened. In front of him, the end of his sword was shaking. He tried to stop it, but the shaking only got worse.

  “Deep breath,” Randell whispered next to him. “Breathe slow.”

  Flyn did as Randell instructed, trying to calm himself as the shadows crept closer. He tried to remember what Randell had taught him earlier that afternoon, but his mind was blank. He couldn’t even remember which foot was supposed to be forward.

  As the shadows came closer, their shapes clarified into the form of humanoids, though with the moon behind them, Flyn couldn’t see their faces or make out any details. He couldn’t even judge their sizes or how far away they were. They could be orcs or humans or maybe some other creature he knew nothing about.

  The shadows were almost upon them when they stopped. Flyn clenched his jaw as his stomach threatened to relieve him of its contents.

  “You there!” one of the shadows yelled. “Stop hiding like a pair of scared rabbits and come out.”

  “Gudbrant!” Randell yelled.

  Flyn, still frozen with fear, watched as Randell jumped to his feet and ran out to meet the pair of figures in the road. Upon reaching the lead figure, Randell embraced him. They exchanged a few words, then Randell turned and called to Flyn.

  “It’s all right. It’s Gudbrant and Harvig.”

  Flyn sighed in relief. He stood up, using his sword for support. His knees felt weak. Slowly, he walked out to the small group, his wobbly legs threatening to collapse.

  The figures were indeed Gudbrant and Harvig.

  “What are you doing here?” Flyn asked.

  “I must apologize for the deception. I could not let it be known that I was joining you. Not after the Thane forbade it. I sent Randell with you because I knew he would keep you safe until I could rejoin you. My plan was to sneak out with no one knowing, but Harvig here already suspected my plans. He refused to allow me to leave unless I let him come with me. He really left me no choice.” Gudbrant glanced back at the large militiaman standing silently behind him.

  “But surely the Thane will suspect?” Randell said.

  “Suspect perhaps, but he won’t know. That was why I could not be seen leaving with Flyn. I spread rumors of an orc raiding party to the west and sent a patrol to investigate. Harvig and I left with the patrol. Once we were far enough from Garthset, I told the platoon leader I was feeling ill and sent them on without me. Harvig would escort me back to Garthset. Only instead of returning, we came here to wait for you.”

  “So everyone in Garthset will think you are with the patrol until they return,” Randell said.

  “Exactly. And they may even think that we were ambushed on the way back, so even then, the Thane won’t know of my insubordination, though he may suspect.”

  “When we return, you will be lucky if all he does is remove you as Captain of the Militia.”

  “If we are successful in rescuing Brenna, he may do with me as he wills and I will happily accept his punishment.”

  “So you mean to go all the way to Uskleig?”

  “What’s Uskleig?” Flyn asked.

  “It’s the city Jarot built around his citadel,” Gudbrant replied. “It’s located far to the north, where the Estlaeg Mountains meet the Nidfel Mountains.”

  “And what if we aren’t successful?” Randell asked.

  “I will see Brenna freed or die trying.”

  “But everything you said about obeying the Thane?” Flyn interrupted.

  “I was truthful when I spoke those words to you, Flyn. My decision was made after. But that is enough talk. We have a long road ahead of us.”

  Gudbrant and Harvig turned and walked off to where they had been waiting.

  “This is unexpected,” Randell said to Flyn. “But I feel our chance for success has just improved.”

  Gudbrant and Harvig gathered their gear and the small band of men set off again. Gudbrant approved of Randell’s plan to try to put at least three leagues between them and Garthset before stopping.

  The company made its first camp of the journey not far from the crossroads where Flyn had first met Gudbrant and Randell. Approaching the crossroads again in the dark gave Flyn a strange sense of familiarity. The last time he had seen the crossroads was on a night not much different from the one he was in now, the early glow of the coming sunrise reminding him of the fading glow of a sunset many weeks before. Even the earthy smell of a recent rain was the same.

  The sight brought back memories of that night, the last time he had seen Kel. The orcs rushing from the trees, the ogres yelling from behind, the flash of steel as the militiamen fought to defend themselves from the onslaught.

  A new thought occurred to him. The orcs had already found Kel when they a
ttacked.

  “I could have saved him,” Flyn said, not realizing he had spoken out loud.

  “Saved him?” Randell asked. “Kel?”

  “Yes. I couldn’t sleep that night, so I went for a walk. The orcs found him while I was at the crossroads. If I had just stayed with him, I could have woken him up and we could have escaped.”

  “If you had done that, you would have been captured as well. And without you to persuade Gudbrant to try to rescue Brenna, no one would be coming to save you.”

  “He’s right,” Gudbrant said. “Do not dwell on what brought you to a place. The past can serve to warn and to teach, but it makes a poor place to live. Know that because of your actions, your friend has a chance to yet see freedom. And your courage has reminded me that sometimes our own safety is secondary to those we love.”

  Flyn didn’t respond. He didn’t feel courageous or selfless. He felt guilty. He wasn’t some hero from a fairytale, off to rescue the princess from the evil giant. He was just a man trying to fix his mistake so his friend didn’t suffer for it. He didn’t understand how that could motivate anyone. At least he wasn’t on his own. The task seemed much too big for him alone.

  Rather than debate his purpose in their quest, Flyn focused on helping Randell set up their tent. They had found a small clearing off the road to make camp that was surrounded by brush on three sides, hiding them from the road. Gudbrant and Harvig set up their own tent opposite Flyn and Randell.

  They built a small fire to take the edge off the early morning chill. As they got closer to Gurnborg, they would have to go without as the chance of being noticed would be too great. This close to Garthset, they were unlikely to encounter a patrol.

  “But what of the orcs that captured Kel?” Flyn asked. “They were right here.”

  “We haven’t seen them that close to Garthset in many years. I think they were only here because they were looking for you and your friend.”

  “But why would they be looking for us?”

  “That I cannot answer, but clearly they wanted to capture you as well as Kel. You said they were looking for you shortly after you arrived in Tirmar?”

  “It was dark when we came ashore. They were looking for us the next morning. I heard them say something about pixies seeing us on the beach.”

  “There are pixies that live in the forest on the other side of the Estlaeg Mountains. They are timid, and won’t fight unless cornered, but they are no less dangerous. They frequently act as spies for Jarot. But even for an orc, the coast of the Mithar Ocean is a many-day journey from Gurnborg. They must have been there already. But that still doesn’t explain why Jarot would be so interested in you.”

  Flyn didn’t know the answer to that question any more than Gudbrant.

  The company ate a small meal, then crawled into their tents for some much-needed sleep.

  The next three nights passed slowly, though they made good time, traveling over twenty leagues. Most of the time Randell traveled in front, searching the road for signs of other travelers, especially orcs. Harvig was tasked with traveling fifty or sixty yards back to watch for anyone trying to sneak up from behind. He mostly traveled off the road, just inside the tree line, to stay hidden from sight. Flyn rarely saw him, except when they stopped to rest.

  He and Gudbrant traveled together in the middle, talking quietly to pass the time. Gudbrant wanted to know about Trygsted. He seemed fascinated with their culture and customs, asking questions about everything. In turn, Flyn asked about Garthset and the Ilfin, although Gudbrant didn’t tell him much more than he had already learned from Meinrad. Mostly Gudbrant confirmed that the Ilfin were loath to take up arms, except in the most dire circumstances. In Garthset, outside those in the militia, very few knew how to wield a sword.

  Their travel was mostly uneventful, until the third day when they were awakened by the noise of an orc patrol on the road. Fortunately, they were well hidden and the patrol passed by without stopping. Later that afternoon, the patrol passed by again, presumably returning to Gurnborg. That night they traveled with little talking, listening and looking for any sign of the patrol. Other than footprints along the dirt road, they saw and heard nothing.

  Each morning the mountain peaks at the western end of the valley were closer than the morning before and by the end of the fourth night, they found themselves at the edge of the valley and the end of the forest. Ahead of them lay only rock and occasional trees and scrub bushes. Gudbrant called for a halt and they spent their last day in the cover of trees.

  Flyn looked at the imposing peaks in front of them, thinking they seemed taller than those on the east side of Asgerdale. The road they had been following led to a mountain pass, but unlike at the other end, the pass wasn’t a wide valley between the peaks. Here it was a twisting trail that climbed up into the mountains, disappearing quickly in the lower peaks.

  “It’s not an easy path,” Gudbrant said. “Even without the orc patrols, Ingekirk Pass is dangerous. In many ways, more dangerous than the orcs. There are places where the path runs along narrow ledges with high, unclimbable cliffs to one side and deep ravines on the other. Treacherous enough in the light of day, but we must travel at night. That will slow us down considerably, adding at least a day to our journey.”

  “Should we travel the pass in the daylight then?” Flyn shivered at the thought of traveling along a narrow ledge in the dark.

  “I only wish that were possible. By daylight we will assuredly be seen by the patrols.”

  Flyn grumbled to himself, not happy with either prospect, but nothing more was to be gained by debating the point. He instead focused on helping Randell set up their tent and preparing the campsite.

  The weather had turned cooler overnight and the morning brought a stiff, cold breeze down from the mountains in front of them. None of them wanted to chance a fire that could give away their location this close to the enemy patrol routes, especially after the patrol the previous day, so they ate a cold meal, then went to bed. They hunkered down in their bedrolls to keep warm. The tents protected them from the wind, but not the cold.

  In addition to no fire, Gudbrant decided seeing a patrol meant it was time to start setting a watch. Tired from travel, but not yet ready for sleep, Flyn volunteered to stand the first watch.

  Gudbrant had positioned him within sight of the road so he could watch for enemy patrols. He sat with his back to a tree and his sword across his lap. Randell had continued his sword training during their voyage, but Flyn still wasn’t very confident with it. He knew a few days of training wouldn’t mean much against an experienced soldier, especially one twice his size. Still, having the sword gave him some comfort. From time to time while watching the road, he ran his finger along the blade, feeling the cold steel through his leather glove.

  Although he knew they were only halfway to their goal, entering the mountains made it seem more real. Perhaps because the mountains were orc territory, or perhaps because his last trip through the mountains had almost ended with him as the main course at an ogre dinner. Traveling through the lush, green lands of Asgerdale, he had almost been able to forget where they were headed. The harsh reality of the mountains shattered that illusion. Each step brought them closer to their destiny, success or failure.

  But success might be farther away than he hoped. Gudbrant had reminded him that there was the possibility that Kel wasn’t in Gurnborg. Most of Jarot’s slaves were used for farming, and there were no farms near Gurnborg. Which meant that, like Brenna, he may have been taken elsewhere. Most of the farm land was west of the mountains. Still, Flyn clung to the hope of finding Kel in Gurnborg. Even though they would have to travel beyond the mountains before they turned north to search for Brenna, finding Kel in plains that covered thousands of leagues would be an insurmountable task.

  Flyn pulled Kel’s hat out of his belt pouch. It seemed like a silly thing to carry with him, but he felt that he owed it to Kel to return the stupid hat. Stained with sweat and salt water and covered in
mud, it barely resembled the one he’d bought from Mr. Famsen so many weeks ago. Still, he vowed to carry it with him until he could return it to his friend, whether that was in Gurnborg or beyond.

  Wherever Kel was, Flyn hoped he was okay. If they had him doing farm work, at least that was something he was used to. Not so much different from being home, right? Kel could survive a little longer plowing fields and planting crops until they found him. Then he and Kel could find a way home.

  Home. By now their parents must think they were dead. They had been gone for almost a month. He wondered what his mother was doing. Probably fixing breakfast while his father and Ty took care of the early morning chores. He wondered if he would ever see them again.

  By mid-morning, as the sun began to peek over the mountains, he crept back to camp to arouse Gudbrant for the next watch. He had not seen or heard any patrols, which seemed to make Gudbrant nervous. Too tired to be concerned, Flyn crawled into his bedroll and was asleep before he could spend any more time thinking about orcs or what fate the mountains might hold for them.

  Flyn awoke to hushed voices outside the tent. He was alone, as Randell had the last watch of the day. Flyn dressed quickly and went out to see what was going on.

  The temperature had dropped even more since the morning and the afternoon sun was hidden behind a thick cloud layer. Randell and Gudbrant were huddled together in discussion. They looked up when Flyn exited the tent. Gudbrant waved him over.

  “Randell and Harvig have seen several orc patrols leaving the mountains today, none have returned. We have to decide if we are going to wait for them to return or continue at dusk as we planned and risk a returning patrol overtaking us in the mountains. Randell thinks we should wait. I feel we should go. I’m concerned that staying here we risk more chance of being discovered than if we keep on the move. What do you think, Flyn?”

  “I thought you were in charge,” Flyn replied, not sure what else to say. What did he know of orcs or avoiding enemy patrols?

  “Not here,” Gudbrant said. “On this journey, we’re all in it together, and we all have a say. Besides, I think my days of giving orders are over.”