Talohna Origins- The Northmen

by J D Franx

  “Anything else?” Brenna questioned, clearly not in the mood to listen much longer.

  “Giera said when they were caged that the Orotaq were not just devoted to war, but to their family and village. Perhaps you have more in common with them than the Skeyth.”

  “What good does that do?” Brenna inquired.

  “It could be worth talking to them,” Eira persisted. “It’s possible they don’t want war. Perhaps they simply see us as invaders and are reacting accordingly. Would you not rather have peace? Especially if we decide to stay and find a place to live here in this new world?”

  Engier smiled when Brenna chewed her bottom lip and stared at him. It meant she was thinking for a change instead of instinctively reacting.

  “We cannot do it here,” she said.

  “Agreed,” he replied. “If things go bad, we need to be on land we know.”

  Brenna nodded her head. “The plains of Austain,” she suggested. “Right at the throat of the valley. Their numbers don’t help them there, it’ll act as a choke point and only allow a few dozen into the valley at a time.”

  “Good idea, Brenna,” Engier replied. “Drengr, return to the main camp and make sure everyone and all the supply wagons are ready to roll out in four hours.” The wizard nodded and rushed off. “Eira? Do you think you can understand enough of this Orotaq language to translate at a parley?”

  “I think so. Thanks to Giera, I have a reference for their language so I should be able to use my magic to have a basic conversation with them.”

  “Good,” he said. “You stay by my side or Brenna’s until the time comes for the meet.”

  “Of course,” she said.

  Engier didn’t even have time to turn around before the scouts in the trees shouted a second time.

  “Several of our own are coming in!”

  “Already?” Brenna said, frowning at Engier. “Where from?” she shouted back into the trees.

  “They’re mostly yours, Jarl Brenna,” a scout said sliding down the tree. “Those stationed at the caves. It looks like they’re all coming back and carrying the lost hunting party with them.” A rousing cheer rolled through the scouts and warriors present. Engier nodded his head, whispering his thanks to Tyr. Remembering Sabjorn’s earlier accusations, he added a second thanks to Odin and waited until the retreating scouts arrived.

  Carrying the weight of eighteen bodies took time, especially when only a dozen scouts were positioned at the caves. Pulling them on makeshift sleds the Northmen used to haul supplies in the high mountains helped, but it would still be some time before they arrived and even longer to cairn or burn the bodies according to Northman tradition. Even so, Engier remained at the southern guard location with the hope that the lead scout would arrive ahead of the others.

  Just as he’d guessed, Brenna’s head scout arrived a few minutes later. Bartak was one of her best scouts and he usually ran the shifts opposite of Sahar and Kaatan. He pulled down his hood and bowed to both Jarls. “We had to pull back,” he said with a gasp. “When we saw a gap between their returning parties, we went to recover our hunting party, and it’s a good thing we did. Once there, we noticed the blue bastards gathering in large numbers at the edge of the swamps. They didn’t spot us, but by the time we had loaded our dead onto the sleds, they had begun to march. They are heading our way.”

  “How many?” Brenna asked.

  The scout shrugged when he answered. “All of them? Between two and three hundred from what I could see. I didn’t want to risk the life of one of our own in an attempt to get an exact number.”

  “That was a good decision,” Engier said. “We need every sword we have. How long before they arrive?”

  “Couple of hours at least, I imagine” the scout answered. “Three, perhaps four if the traps we left in the cave slow them down.”

  Engier tugged at his beard in frustration. “All right,” he said, grasping the man’s shoulder. “Grab some food and help with the retreat. Families with young and all our support people like the miners from Steiin Fortress can start leaving as soon as they’re able to, send a light guard and a few scouts with them. Our meet location is the lower Austain plains, inside the northern throat after the valley. We’ll make our stand there on Sokn soil. We can retreat south to the fortress if it doesn’t go well. There is no time to deal with our dead, so have them loaded onto the wagons and hopefully we can find time in the valley.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Bartak answered. A deep frown spread across his face before he turned to enter the camp.

  “What about the young the Skeyth took?” Brenna asked.

  “We’ve lost them for now,” he replied. “If we can deal with these Orotaq, one way or another, then we’ll try to get them back, but we can’t do it now.”

  She nodded her agreement and turned to her scouts. “All right everyone,” Brenna shouted. “Once the other scouts return, I want every member of this camp ready to leave in as short a time possible. Am I clear?” A rousing cheer of agreement was her answer and Engier nodded her way. She smiled in return and then also entered the camp.

  With the hope of getting his people back to familiar land, Engier followed after her.

  Chapter Eleven

  PLAINS OF AUSTAIN

  “Ready?” Engier asked, glancing at Eira. The Skeyth woman nodded but said nothing as she nervously chewed her thumb nail. He smiled. Brenna was starting to rub off on her. As they stood and watched the approach of nearly four hundred of the giant blue-skinned warriors, Engier realized the village he had seen was obviously not the only one out there. The jotunn or the Orotaq, as they called themselves, had doubled their numbers since the Northmen scouts first spotted them gathering for war. Nearly triple the forces he saw inside the Orotaq village marched against them. It led him to believe that the Orotaq called on warriors from far more than just the one village. His four to one advantage in fighters was long gone.

  Engier and his Northmen clans were now evenly matched with the arriving army of giants. Unfortunately, from what he’d seen, they were outmatched everywhere else. Between the Skeyth and his people, they had lost dozens of warriors in battle with the Orotaq while only managing to kill one or two. He frowned knowing it would take at least five times the numbers he currently had in order to have a chance at winning the coming battle.

  Watching the approaching army elicited a sense of awe he hadn’t experienced in many decades. Though most were two feet taller and several hundred pounds heavier than he was, the Orotaq moved like men half their size and bulk. Light on their feet, yet incredibly strong and well organized, they were extremely experienced in war. Even as they pushed closer, warriors were breaking off in units of twenty and thirty men, most covered any areas Engier had used to set up flanking and ambush positions. It forced his flanking fighters to retreat back to the main camp or else be discovered and killed.

  Under normal circumstances he would’ve relished the challenge of fighting a superior force, but if the future of his entire race was on the line, he wasn’t nearly as keen on the idea of war. So instead of preparing to fight, he was standing at the narrow mouth of the valley with a shield draped in a white cloth marked with the offset triangles on an unbroken line and then set on two crossed spears. He waited with only a Skeyth wizard at his side in the hopes of averting a battle that would likely destroy what was left of his people.

  He grunted with disbelief when the Orotaq army stopped at the meadow above the beach and a lone warrior, accompanied by a small woman in a robe, continued on towards them. Surprisingly, Eira was right, the enemy was willing to talk. The man was bigger than most they had already seen, easily over eight feet in height and Engier guessed he was pushing six hundred pounds of pure muscle. The branding scars prevalent on all the Orotaq were taken to the extremes on the approaching warrior. Every visible bit of skin, including his face, was covered in brands. Without a doubt this man was either their king or their war chief.

  The woman was the complete opposite at b
arely five feet tall and a hundred pounds. Engier had never seen such a small woman. Dressed in flowing black robes, she held an air of power and confidence he’d only known magic users to carry, but he could tell little else, as a heavy, fur-lined hood covered her face and head. Overall the woman was a good sign. Obviously, she wasn’t one of the blue giants, which meant the Orotaq could likely be reasoned with by other races. Maybe, just maybe there would be a chance at peace, and hopefully before the day was out. Only the two kept moving towards them, so he was sure one of the Sokn signs for a parley or peace talks had been recognized by the Orotaq. With luck, the woman with him would be able to translate clearly in order to avoid anymore misunderstandings.

  They came within ten feet before they stopped. Earlier, Engier had instructed Eira to let them speak first so she could hear the dialect they used and hopefully understand it enough to speak with them. However, the woman with the big man had other ideas and immediately put her fingers to her mouth before splaying them open. Engier frowned, sensing the woman in front of him was not one to be trifled with.

  “She wants us to speak first,” he said, turning to Eira.

  She furrowed her brow, but the Skeyth wizard nodded. “I am, Eira,” she said, slowly tapping her own chest. Pointing his way, she spoke even slower. “Jarl Engier War-Blood, leader of the Northmen, we apologize for any problems we may have caused...”

  The woman scoffed, but still refused to lift her head or remove her hood. “Problems?” she asked. “There are no problems, only blood-debts.”

  “You understand me?” Eira gasped.

  “More with each speak.”

  “How is that possible?” Engier asked.

  Still the woman refused to look at them. “The power of the demon makes it so,” she answered. “I am named, Effelia, Cardessa of the Dead Sisters witch coven and ally to the Orotaq.”

  “Cardessa?” Engier whispered.

  Eira frowned. “We have no word for it, my lord,” she said. “As best I can understand it means, mother or matron, but more of a leader.” He nodded his understanding and the strange woman stopped speaking long enough to place her hand on the big man at her side.

  “This one is Gorak,” the Cardessa continued. “War chief of the Orotaq nation. We do not desire war during this time of upheaval, so we have come to talk. It is something the Orotaq rarely do. Normally war is life, but also, we talk because you are not of Talohna.”

  “No, we are not,” Engier said. “And you are not Orotaq.”

  “Correct,” she answered. “I am human, one of several races who call this land home. You do not have humans where you are from?”

  “No, though we do have a race of indigenous people back home who are similar in size and stature to yourself. They have black hair and much darker skin.”

  “Then they are most likely human,” Effelia answered. “Talohna has many different humans. Dark skin, red hair, people with beautiful almond-shaped eyes who hail from countries in the orient. They are all part of the human race and they share Talohna with other races like the Orotaq and the Elvehn. These are things you should know before declaring war on those with far superior military and physical strength to your own.”

  “We are not here to make war—” Engier began but was cut short by a snort from Gorak.

  “Your actions have shown otherwise since your time in Talohna, and the Orotaq will not stand for it,” the Cardessa said, raising her voice. She slammed her staff into the ground to emphasize her anger.

  “Is that the name of this land?” Eira asked, changing the subject in an attempt to stop the escalating situation. “Talohna? Your world?”

  Engier was beginning to admire her courage and ability to defuse a tense situation. It seemed to work and the witch calmed before she answered her question.

  “All the lands we have knowledge of are Talohna, but many races and lands exist here.” Turning her head, she motioned back across the muddy salt flats. “That is Black Hollow, the land of the Orotaq.” Pointing down to the dirt and grass at her feet, she quickly added, “This is not Talohna. No earth energy exists here. No magic can be drawn through our bonds by those of us with the skill. That makes you lucky. A Dead Healer has told me you are not travelers from another world or dimension and you are clearly not of the Fae. That makes you invaders from another land, one we have no previous knowledge of.”

  “No,” Eira said offering a smile. “We are from another land yes, it is called Sokn, but we’re not here to invade.”

  “It was not our intention to be seen as such,” Engier said. “When the ground shook over a month ago, this piece of land broke off from our homeland and crashed into yours.” He pointed to the muddy slip below them where the two lands came together in a mash of salt water, rock, and dirt. “We didn’t know if this land of ours would remain safe so we would have eventually made our way into your lands anyway. But we only entered your lands now because we were looking for the Skeyth. They stole a dozen of our children before our lands came together. They are the people you came across first.”

  The woman turned to Gorak and said something in a language Engier didn’t understand.

  He bumped Eira but she shook her head. “It’s not the Orotaq language,” she whispered.

  “It is the common tongue of Talohna,” the witch offered, her words thick with disgust at his obvious lack of local knowledge. Slowly lifting her head, she lowered her hood and stared. Engier grunted with surprise. She was young, no more than thirty years by Northmen terms, but many ages of experience marked her face, as did several black, ornate tattoos. Two long blade scars marred her cheeks while a third crossed her right eye at a crooked angle, leaving scar tissue partially closing her eyelid. More thick welts of scar tissue marked her neck and continued out of sight under her robe. It was caused by wizard’s fire and it was a scar he knew well. His hand involuntarily rubbed his ribs on the right-hand side of his body. The Cardessa was a woman accustomed to fighting with magic.

  The young hag cackled, bringing him back to the matter at hand. “You kill the young and wage war without thought, then want peace when you see a fraction of the Orotaq might.”

  “A fraction?” Eira breathed.

  The witch nodded slowly. “Before you stand the warriors from two of the four Orotaq mainland villages. The Orotaq fleet remains in the fifth, Harbor Village, on the shores to the north. Gorak felt more were not needed in order to wipe your very short existence from Talohna’s history.”

  “We have done nothing to the Orotaq to warrant such aggression,” Engier said.

  Again, the witch scoffed. “Your forward scouts and the first of your invasion force attacked a small Orotaq hunting party as they hid within the trees to observe you as you passed by. They would not have attacked unprovoked while they had a youth with them. A youth you killed. When your scouts were captured for proper punishment you infiltrated our camp and freed them, but not before you killed the youth who was standing guard. That child was Gorak’s oldest son. Your blood debt must be settled, by war.”

  “God damned Skeyth,” he muttered, earning a stare from Effelia. Coughing to cover it, he cleared his throat. “You understand… Those were… are not my people...”

  The witch eyed him suspiciously. “You cannot fool one with magic, Jarl War-Blood. Magic used against the Orotaq during the first contact runs through the aura of the woman at your side.”

  The Orotaq war chief growled, but Engier didn’t understand him.

  Effelia nodded, obviously agreeing with the big man. “Chief Gorak says you have no honor if you do not stand by your people, good or bad.”

  “Bastard,” Engier snarled. “My people have hated the Skeyth for centuries because they did to us what they have done to you.” He placed his hands on Eira’s shoulder. “This woman stands at my side, against her people, because we have more honor than her own. I will not let my people pay the price for the actions and murders committed by the Skeyth. We never would have entered your land if they had not stol
en our young. Not this soon, at least.”

  The witch turned to Gorak and spoke in the same language as before. He grunted before answering.

  “Chief Gorak seems to believe you, Northman, though I am not so easily swayed,” she replied. “The blood debt still stands, but he is willing to compromise if his people have something to gain. The Orotaq admire strength and military prowess, and you have killed Orotaq warriors—that is something that rarely happens. Gorak respects you, that is even more rare. Peace here today could be a prelude to an alliance with your Northmen people. One that would allow the Orotaq to reclaim lands taken from them a long time ago. If you agree to fight by Gorak’s side when called upon and turn over the Skeyth woman at your side along with any other magic users you have, then you will have your peace. Such a peace comes with an invitation to settle the vacant lands south of the Hollow. It is forested and heavy with wild game, rivers, and lakes. There are minerals in the hills and plenty of room to grow crops and expand your clans. In exchange, your people will join the Orotaq with no questions or concerns when they march to war.”

  Engier felt Eira stiffen at his side, but it didn’t change his response. “I thank you for the offer, but I cannot do that,” he said. “I would have no honor if I did. This woman stands at my side because she was granted protection by my people. Instead, I can and will offer a one on one fight, war chief against war chief.”

  “Engier, no,” Eira began but he held up his hand.

  The giant man shifted his weight and glared his way and for the first time, Engier realized that Gorak understood most of what was being said.

  “No,” the war chief said, as a deep growl rumbled in his chest. “Fight on field of battle only, phratt.” He turned and walked away.

  The witch sighed with frustration and furiously rubbed her forehead. “Orotaq war chiefs only fight on the battlefield, Jarl Engier. Having his respect does not mean he sees you as an equal worthy of fighting him alone. You must prove your worth to fight him one on one, and that is only done by reaching him alive on the battlefield. To do otherwise is to insult his prowess and only a phratt, a child, does such a thing. Prepare your warriors, Jarl War-Blood. You have until one hour past dawn.” The witch spun on her heel to follow the Orotaq war chief, but Engier persisted.