Half-Orc Redemption

by Luke T Barnett

  The rider did not shift his gaze, nor his look, nor his aim.

  “That is all I need to see,” he said.

  The clatter of metal was heard as a squad of heavily-armored knights came hurriedly around the hillside.

  “Good timing, troop!” the rider shouted, still not shifting his gaze. “We have an animal to be caged and a prisoner in need of better bindings.”

  “I have requested a parley with your commander, sir knight,” Marian said as she was taken by the knights. “I expect that request to be honored.”

  “Do not fear, m’lady,” the rider said, still staring at Gash as the knights surrounded him. “A parley you have asked, a parley you shall have.”

  Gash waited for the man’s eyes to move from him that he might see Mara. But the knight’s eyes never moved from Gash. They simply glared at him, burning with hatred.

  “Get moving, orc,” a knight on Gash’s left ordered him, prodding his gut with the tip of a sword.

  Gash turned and walked in the direction the knights were leading him.

  “Search the hillside and the cabin,” the rider told one of the soldiers. “Retrieve anything you find that would be of use. And be on your guard. There may be another of this orc’s friends out there.”

  VI. Many Words

  The march was brief. Gash found himself coming from amidst the forest into a large company that filled the muddy road. Men in similar black armor moved about setting up tents, tending to wounded and setting up a large, but, temporary camp. Amidst the knights were others that were dressed in not in armor, but in cloth and leather. Most of them were women and children and, though there were men among them. They looked more ragged, less war-hardened, and more fearful upon seeing Gash. His wrists bound by shackles of iron, he walked through their midst, led by the rider and the lady Marian, and surrounded by several swords and crossbows.

  Gash wished to keep an eye on Marian, but his eyes were drawn away by the strange sight of the peoples that surrounded him. Those not in armor stopped whatever they were doing, looking upon him with fear, and sometimes hatred. His heart was pricked with sorrow for them, for he had no doubt by their stares that they had encountered his kind and wanted no more. He was unwelcomed even as a prisoner. Turning his head back to look in front of him, he looked to Marian and found her still walking forward, unharmed.

  After several more paces, they came to an area inhabited only by the armored men and halted in a muddy spot near the forest. Two soldiers, one sitting upon a tree stump, another standing beside him, halted their conversation as the group arrived. They both saluted the man on the horse. The sitting one stood, greeting the man upon the horse as ‘sergeant’. As he stood, he took up a long pole-arm topped by a polished blade. He held it upright in the mode of a staff. The man was short and the pole-arm easily twice his length. He barely gave Gash a passing glance as he looked to the sergeant.

  “Dolanas,” the sergeant called as he dismounted, “have Corporal Allister and whomever else you decide guard the orc and see that a cage is constructed. And be sure they stay alert. I’ll not have them wrapped up in banter while that orc is beside them.”

  “Yes, sir,” the short man complied.

  Gash watched as the sergeant handed the reigns to another soldier and then walked off with Marian in tow, the kind woman glancing back in worry. Gash felt a tap on his arm and turned to see the short man standing there, looking up at him. The man signaled for Gash to stand in a spot between the stump and the other soldier and then signaled him to sit. Gash complied without complaint, sitting cross-legged. The man then gave orders to a few of the surrounding soldiers who hurried off. He then dismissed the rest and sat back down on the stump, laying his pole-arm in a small patch of grass next to him. Gash looked at him. The man pulled out a piece of wood and a knife and began shaving strips off the wood, occasionally turning the object in his hands. The man had not looked at him since he had directed Gash to sit, and he still did not look at him. He seemed to give no care for Gash’s presence, seemingly, single-mindedly focused on his strange task. Gash watched him for a time until his mind began to get weary with boredom and he turned to look ahead of him, feeling the tightness in his neck as he did so. His thoughts turned to the words of Mara and of Marian, wondering of the whereabouts of the former and the safety of the latter.

  ************

  The sergeant led the lady Marian through the camp in silence until they came upon a large tent.

  “Prisoner requesting a parley with you, sir,” he spoke in the direction of the tent flaps.

  “The captain’s away from his tent, sir,” a soldier called out to him. The sergeant looked to him and he pointed off in a particular direction. The sergeant then walked around the tent and over to where his commanding officer was squatting and looking over a map spread over a tree stump, another of the soldiers squatting next to him.

  “Sir,” the sergeant called, interrupting their talk.

  The two looked up from their work.

  “Prisoner requesting a parley.”

  “Get back with me when we’re finished,” the captain said to his subordinate.

  The soldier rolled up the map and headed off as the captain stood and faced the two. He was dressed in the same black armor as every soldier in the camp. Marian surmised that they must have been expecting some kind of an attack to be constantly in armor. The captain held a look more regal than the knight that held her. His face was younger, yet the lady could see in it a maturity that surpassed his subordinate. The man looked upon her a moment. She stood confidently, but not proudly, doing her best to display an air of maturity about her. After a moment, the captain turned to the sergeant and in a strong, steady voice, asked him, “What charge do you bring against this woman?”

  “She was harboring the orc we captured,” the sergeant replied. “She also allowed him to ambush me, giving me no warning of his attack-“

  The captain quickly nodded and held up his hand. He then turned to the lady.

  “What say you, Madame?” he asked her.

  “Captain, sir,” Marian began giving the best curtsey she could with bound hands, “my name is Marian. I am known by those who frequent this area as Marian of-“

  “Marian of the Wood?” the captain cut in.

  Marian ceased and gave him a look of determined understanding.

  “You’ve heard of me, m’lord?” she asked.

  “A bit,” the captain replied. “Pray, continue.”

  “Yes, m’lord,” Marian continued. “The Serpent Road is long and dangerous as I am sure you well know. I have been known to take in the occasional traveler that happens upon my abode. The one you have in custody: His name is Gash Bloodaxe. He and his companion stopped at my cabin to find shelter from the rain. He did me no harm whilst he was there and was even willing to leave his weapon outside of the cabin at my request. Any visitor that enters my cabin by my permission I consider to be fully under my charge as would most.”

  “You allowed this orc to enter your cabin?” the captain interjected.

  “Yes, m’lord, I did,” Marian replied unapologetically. “It seems to me that you have some familiarity with orcs. Have you ever known an orc to stand at a doorway and wait for permission to enter? Or to leave his weapon whilst he stepped inside unarmed? Gash may have orcish blood, m’lord, but he is far from orcish. Just looking at him, one could determine that.”

  The sergeant blew some air through his teeth as he turned his head to the side. Marian turned her head to look at him, an indignant look upon her face.

  “When your subordinate appeared, he entered my home without provocation and without permission.”

  The sergeant snapped his head to look back at Marian as she continued.

  “He even went so far as to defy my warnings for him not to enter. Gash was merely acting in defense. I was attacked, m’lord, not your sergeant.”

  “You stupid wench,” The sergeant growled, yanking the woman close and raising his hand to strike her
. Marian cringed and turned her face away.

  “Sergeant!”

  The sergeant stopped and looked at his commanding officer in shock. He had not used that tone of voice with him often and he now feared what was to come.

  “You entered this woman’s home without provocation?” the captain strongly questioned him.

  The sergeant, still a bit stunned, lowered his hand and moved his jaw as if to try and speak, yet nothing came.

  “I am ordering you to tell me the truth, sergeant,” his captain told him. “And you will tell me.”

  In fear, the sergeant quickly stood at attention and spoke up.

  “She was harboring an orc, sir,” he at last replied.

  “And what proof had you?” the captain asked him.

  The sergeant searched desperately in his mind while his captain stood waiting, tapping a finger on his crossed arm.

  Finally, it came to him, and the sergeant answered, “There were the tracks we found along the road. I heard shouting as I approached. And the woman spoke as a friend to orcs. And I saw a shadow on the opposite wall. And something of great force attacked me from behind the door. And there was the axe outside the cabin-“

  “That axe is not of orcish make, and you should well know that,” Marian cut in. “I am a woman, and even I know this.”

  Marian then turned to the captain and suddenly realized she had forgotten her place.

  “A weapon smith would be able to confirm that of course, m’lord,” she said in a more subdued tone.

  The sergeant looked to Marian as she spoke and then back to his captain who now glared at him with a very displeased look.

  “Sir-“

  “That’s enough, sergeant,” the captain cut him off. “I’ll deal with you later. Leave the lady here and see to your duties.”

  Humiliated and humbled, the sergeant barely managed a salute and a subdued, “sir,” before turning and leaving the area in shame. The captain then placed his forefinger and thumb upon the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes and breathed out sigh. Marian looked to where the sergeant had gone and back to the captain in confusion. She was somewhat astounded that the captain was so ready to believe her report, but nonetheless thankful. She waited for the captain to recover but he just stood there in that position, breathing.

  “M’lord?” she finally asked.

  Casually, the captain lifted his head and looked at her. His face was worn, even more so than before.

  “Shall…shall I take my leave?” Marian asked him.

  The captain just shook his head and began to wander around the small area. After several moments, he again shook his head and turned to face the lady, looking somewhat more composed.

  “I must apologize for my sergeant’s actions,” he finally spoke. “He has a rather sordid history with the orcs. It has caused him on more than one occasion to be…over-zealous in his actions. Yours is unfortunately not the first incident.”

  Marian stood there a moment, shifting nervously.

  “It is no offense for me to keep, m’lord,” she finally replied.

  The captain nodded.

  “You are kinder than most,” he told her. “Though we do our best to rid the land of orcs, we do not punish those who would sympathize with them, misguided as they may be. You are free to go. Ah, your bindings.”

  At that, he walked over and began to undo the rope that bound her wrists.

  “I thank you for your kindness,” Marian began, “and commend you on your nobility, sir. But I hope you will not think me ungrateful when I tell you that I cannot leave without my guest.”

  The captain looked at her intently, the rope now off her wrists and resting in his armored hand.

  “Why?” he asked, staring at her. “Why do you seek to protect him? Have you not yourself also beheld of what horrors his kin are capable, Meredith Southknower?”

  The woman stared at him a moment in frightened shock, though her mouth remained closed. Slight anger filled her at the act of some unseen violation of her past, and she slowly slid her hands beneath her arms, hiding her wrists.

  “I see you know more than a bit about my history, Captain,” she finally said, a hint of shaken anger in her voice, “and you have a keen eye as well.”

  “Forgive me,” the captain said, taking a step back, “I had to be sure your identity was genuine. I will not harass you with it again. But I am afraid I cannot release the orkin to you. If what you say about him stopping at your cabin is true, and I believe that it is, then he may simply be a brute scout for his kin.”

  “I very much doubt that, m’lord,” Marian said regaining most of her lost composure, “and I do not believe you would think so were you to see him or to speak with him.”

  “I disagree.”

  “He may share their blood, m’lord, but he does not share their nature.”

  “Were that it were true, m’lady, I would most welcome it. But my men and the refugees we escort have just recently fled from hordes of them in the north. You have said yourself twice now that he shares their blood. I have not yet met an orc that is as you say. I cannot take the risk of him warning his kin of our whereabouts, nor of losing the confidence of those I lead.”

  Marian sighed.

  “Very well,” she said, “I would speak with your commanding officer then.”

  “You will be waiting a long time, lady,” the captain replied, “and you will have to travel many miles. My nearest superior is across the Fairdrid Ocean in Dorlain.”

  Marian stared at him in surprise.

  “Good sir,” she said, “I have barely but laid eyes on this troop and I can already tell there are over three-hundred armed men.”

  “An unfortunate result of our battle with your guest’s kindred,” the captain calmly replied. “So you see why I cannot afford any leniency in this matter, nor any other. We are barely holding together as it is.”

  The captain’s eyes flashed a momentary and unintentional softness of soul. Realizing his speech, he quickly bolstered himself and spoke again.

  “But none of that is your concern,” he said. “Return to your cabin, lady. Your belongings will be returned to you and I will have a soldier escort you.”

  The captain motioned for his subordinates.

  “Captain, when I told you I could not leave without my guest, I meant it,” Marian responded strongly. “If I must travel with you all the way to Dorlain to appeal for Gash’s release then I will do so.”

  “Lady, I cannot allow that,” the captain said as a couple of soldiers walked up beside Marian. “We have not the food to sustain our own forces much less one mouth more.”

  “And if I show you where game might be found?”

  The captain’s attention was immediately grabbed as was that of the two knights who stood beside Marian.

  “There is more than enough food in this forest to feed your troop, at least for a little while if rationed properly. Would you consider that equal payment for allowing me to travel with your troop?”

  The captain was surprised. Game had been strangely scarce in the forest and he thought it to be the norm for this area.

  “You know where more game can be found?”

  Marian nearly laughed at the question.

  “Do you think me magic, sir?” she said. “How do you think it is that I am sustained?”

  “If you speak truth then I shall grant your request to travel with us, Madame,” the captain agreed.

  Marian smiled pleasantly.

  “Thank you, Captain,” she said in all gentleness.

  “If you please, m’lady,” the captain spoke urgently.

  “Yes, of course,” Marian replied. “Have you a map?”

  “Jonah,” the captain called past the three figures.

  The man that had been conversing with the captain before the arrival of Marian and her captor walked up to Marian and unrolled the parchment in his hands.

  “Ah, I see your trouble, Captain,” Marian said looking over the map before her. “
Your map is horribly out of date.”

  Marian continued as she traced her finger down the northeast corner of the map.

  “There is a caribou trail that has developed along this patch of forest. It is quite well-worn and easy to find if one knows what they are looking for. A two-day journey at a leisurely pace, Captain, but plenty of game to feed this people.”

  The captain turned to one of his subordinates and had no sooner spoken the words to send three squads when the subordinate replied with a “sir,” and hurried off. The captain then turned back to Marian.

  “Why did you not mention this when my sergeant first approached you?”

  “Why did your sergeant identify himself as a scout?” Marian replied, crossing her arms.

  The captain nodded.

  “Quite so,” he said. “I apologize, but the subterfuge was necessary. We had found a pair of orc tracks on the road, I assume from your guest. We knew not what we would encounter at your cabin. A scout was less intimidating and would be seen as easier prey. My sergeant would have had the element of surprise in his skill with the sword. We wished to lure out any orcs that might be in hiding. Does that satisfy you?”

  “Not really, Captain.”

  The captain furrowed his brow.

  “I would expect more from a knight in service. Nevertheless, I am not without my own faults. I simply do not appreciate being lied to.”

  “Again I bring to mind, lady, that you said nothing of the animal trail when my sergeant had made plain to you our need.”

  “A simple withholding of information, Captain; quite different from a lie. However, I do now see my err in my actions and so too apologize. It was wrong to withhold food from a starving troop. I should have seen that from the first but was too stubborn and selfish. I wished not my food supply to be robbed from me. But such a thing simply shows my lack of faith. My apologies, Captain. And to each of you.”

  Marian then curtsied to all those who stood around the small clearing. The captain stood, watching her, waiting to catch in her actions the unmistakable signs of insincerity. But there were none. She was either very skilled at deception, or truly sincere. At the moment, he could not decide which.