by Sam Ferguson
Torgath bowed his head reverently, but he couldn’t help but feel cheated. Now that he knew he wasn’t demon-spawn at all, but instead a mere pawn used by both his uncle and Glimwyrm, he thought he should at least get to keep the weapon he had forged a bond with over the years.
“And what’s this?” Khefir said as he moved to Torgath’s fallen body. “The necklace, I hear voices.” He reached down and inspected the teeth. “You have imprisoned many demons,” Khefir commented. The god then floated over to Torgath and held out the sword.
The orc furrowed his brow and looked at the weapon. “You said this would belong to Hatmul’s top general.”
Khefir, though devoid of a face, seemed to be smiling as he held the weapon out. “And so it does,” he said as he pushed the weapon closer to Torgath. “For a more valiant orc has never walked the face of Terramyr.” Torgath took the sword in his hands and was surprised to see that he was no longer a spirit.
“What is this?” Torgath asked as he felt the weight of the sword in his hands once more. His left arm was whole and his leg and ribs were healed. In fact, he felt stronger than he ever had during his life.
Khefir stamped his staff on the ground and lightning shot out in all directions, crashing into the cavern’s stone walls. “All hail Torgath, Greatest of the Orcs, and First in Hell.”
The orc and goblin spirits let out a cheer and saluted him.
Khefir then pointed to Kiuwa. “A general needs trusted lieutenants.” Torgath turned to see Kiuwa’s spirit lift from the ground. Within a second the large Kuscan was placed back into his body as well, and all injuries were healed. A flash of light appeared next to Kiuwa, and Torgath felt his heart surge when he saw Tui standing beside his brother.
“Torgath,” Khefir said. “These two have bonded themselves to you, and though they be not of orcish blood, they have earned the right to fight at your side for eternity.”
Torgath smiled so wide it felt as though his cheeks would rip. “I have no words,” he said.
Khefir nodded. “Now, what I said about Nagé is true. Let us go. We will take these other souls that do not belong to Hammenfein back across the pass, where you will pass them to Nagé. Afterward, I will take us all to Hammenfein where the souls that belong to me will be judged and given their punishments or rewards, and you... you will take your place at Hatmul’s right hand.”
Kiuwa and Tui stepped close to flank Torgath.
“I promised to serve until there are no stars shining in the sky. That promise holds in life and in death,” Kiuwa said.
“Daevek,” Tui said with a big smile and a quick salute.
Torgath stuttered a couple of times and then shook his head. “And they can come with me?” Torgath asked.
Khefir nodded once more and laughed. “Hammenfein has enough orcish Hell Hounds. It’s time for the legions of hell to be led by a demon, or better yet, a Kuscan Demon.”
Epilogue
The warm glow which had shone from inside the farsong blossom in Teolang’s underground cavern the day before had been weighing on her mind. Three seeds had finally reappeared at the base of its brilliant orange petals after so many years. She had sat for hours in the forest, waiting for a whisper of news of the trio of younglings she had sent off on a quest to find the path of honor. Word came finally that one had been slain and taken by Khefir – she would have some words with him concerning that – but the other two had journeyed beyond the sight of Terramyr’s living mantle. They were surely in the deadlands where no sprout of green or breath of sweet air was to be found. So near the eye of hell that even the gods would not dare visit.
When night fell and the moon journeyed high into the sky, Teolang could finally stand the suspense no longer. She returned to her home and lay down, commanding herself to sleep so that time would slip away more quickly. Sleep had always been a talent of hers – to drift off no matter the environment or her own state of mind. So it had been for hundreds of years. But this night, her mind would not quiet, and sleep evaded her eyes.
When morning came Teolang was in a foul mood. No word had come to her of the fate of her two surviving questlings, and her head ached from lack of sleep. Knowing she would be treading on thin grace, but ready to have someone to exchange terse words with, she stalked to the entrance of her cave muttering to herself a mixture of near-curses and strange sounds from her throat and cheeks. She yanked two rune stones loose from the collection that decorated the side of the cave entrance not covered by a massive tree root. A wolf, and a skeletal hand.
Returning to the stone table near the underground stream in her home, she slapped the two rune stones onto the table and hovered a hand over each.
“I beseech a moment of time,” she spoke clearly, and then stepped away from the table. She held her hands behind her back and swayed gently while she waited for a reply. A few minutes passed before she heard the unmistakable sucking sound of a rift being opened from the plane of existence where Kyra dwelt. She was not surprised it would be Kyra to respond first. Though her occupations were many and her schemes never ending, she generally had more free time to spend visiting those with whom she had left a marker.
Beautiful and terrible looking all at once, the fair-skinned goddess stepped through the rift and closed it with a snap of her fingers. Her long, dark hair swayed gently behind her back and her light linen robes rippled despite the lack of wind in the cavern.
“Hello Teolang, do you have interesting news for me? Perhaps a new mark I should put some resources on?”
“Greetings, My Lady. Before we begin, you should know there is another guest on his way.” She gestured to the second marker on the table. Kyra turned to look, and remained as if frozen in place before turning back, very slowly, to regard Teolang. A very small part of Teolang called out the urge to quiver under the dissatisfied gaze of the goddess, but the rest of her responded with impish amusement, and she had to purse her lips to suppress the full-blown smile that threatened to erupt across her face.
“My lady, it concerns a trio of honorable spirits that you will both find to be useful.”
A great sigh burst from Kyra’s lips, and it was evident she was restraining herself from berating Teolang, though the old woman was certain she was holding back a flood of choice words.
Only a few moments more passed before the sound of another rift being opened turned both pairs of eyes upon the skeletal hand which was soon followed by a tattered robe and a fleshless face. Khefir appeared and closed his rift with a stamp of the black staff he carried.
“Lady Kyra,” he spoke without a hint of irony, and bowed graciously, “Teolang, my friend,” he offered a pleasant nod and took a seat on top of the stone table where his marker rested.
“Lord Khefir,” Kyra offered him a gentle nod and a perfunctory smile.
“I simply must know, Lord Khefir, the fate of my orc friend Torgath and his Kuscan companions. They have travelled beyond the bounds of my sight, and have surely either been claimed by you in victory or defeat by now.”
An exclamation of satisfaction erupted from Khefir’s throat, followed by a short chuckle.
“A yes, he did mention a red mark having been removed recently. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that he had crossed paths with you. You certainly have an eye for picking souls of great value. Frankly, it might have been a bit of a battle of wills to decide who had claim to the Kuscans had Nagé been free to visit. Even the orc might have given her pause to question the All-Father’s policy.”
“I don’t believe I’ve heard of these warriors before now,” Kyra turned a curious eye on Teolang.
“No, no, not yet, but soon,” Teolang waved her hand toward Kyra in a dismissive way, too tired to pick her way through protocol and pleasantries, “but first I must know, Lord Khefir. Tell me their fate.”
Another chuckle rattled the skeletal frame of the Collector of the Dead. “First in Hell, General of the Orcish Hell Hounds, and two faithful lieutenants to flank him through eternity.” He
swept a hand out grandly, and watched with genial demeanor as Teolang celebrated with a series of yells and triumphant gesticulations. She even went so far as to clutch momentarily at the god’s elbow in celebration before coming to herself.
“Pardon, Lord Khefir. I got away from myself.”
Khefir nodded his forgiveness.
“My lady, these three have proven themselves capable warriors with an undying loyalty to one another, and – a quality I should think would be of great significance to you – have not been interested in following any path but that of honor, no matter whether that served the All Father or the First Father. Forgive an old woman, but it seems to me that you both have something in common with this philosophy. May my soul be turned to the void for speaking so boldly, but neither heaven nor hell has served either of your interests. You have more in common due to this fact than you would be able to notice from so deep inside your own troubles. Is it not possible, that a band of souls proven in loyalty only to the path of honor, may be a worthwhile collection for the two of you to accumulate quietly on the side? What you do with them… that would take more cunning than I have to offer, humble mortal that I am.”
“Old woman my bony foot,” Khefir muttered under his breath.
“Indeed, I do agree with you, Khefir, my betrayed brother of hell. More than that, Teolang, I’m not sure you qualify as mortal any more than I do at this moment, except as a technicality of your birth. Excepting the satyrs of Viverandon, or perhaps including them, you are attuned to the essence of Terramyr more than any being I have yet known.” Kyra stood silent for a moment, scanning the ground as she swayed gently with her hands on her hips. Eventually she raised her eyes to Khefir’s glowing orbs, searching his inscrutable face, or perhaps communicating in some way that Teolang was not privy to.
“You may have hit upon something, my friend,” Khefir finally spoke.
“At a time and place appropriate, I would like to meet this honorable trio. I may even have a few choice souls of my own to introduce to you, friend.” Kyra spoke this time to Khefir, putting special weight to the word ‘friend.’ “Another orc, as a matter of fact. I’ve had my eye on him these past few weeks. Blessed coincidence to have heard of yet another honorable orc upending the normal scales of fate. Chongor could be another interesting addition to your brother’s band of Hell Hounds, especially if he has a general to guide him such as what Teolang has described.
“Ah,” sighed Teolang happily as she hobbled to her favorite nook in the tap root, “the beauty of friendship. Fellows, to have put the two of you together has been an honor.”
Are you ready for another orcish adventure? Then be sure to order The Orc of Grizban, and see if Chongor can impress the goddess Kyra and Lord Khefir.
Other Books by Sam Ferguson
The Sorceress of Aspenwood Series
The Dragon’s Champion Series
Son of the Dragon
The Dragons of Kendualdern series
The Fur Trader
The Haymaker Adventures
The Moon Dragon
The Beast of Blue Mountain
The Dwarves of Roegudok Hall comic Episode 1
Epic Farm Boy
