Half-Orc Redemption

by Luke T Barnett

  Gash turned his head to look at the stalwart soldier, his scowl deepening as his mouth opened to form the bitter words of a deep-seeded pain.

  “I am no orc,” he growled.

  The captain looked hard upon him a moment and then motioned with his arm. Immediately, the knight standing by the horse directly in front of Gash slapped the horse’s rear. The horse immediately took off into a gallop. Gash was jerked forward and became horizontal as the horse in front of him pulled against the strength of the other horse and Gash’s muscles.

  Gash gritted his teeth, grunting slightly at the pain as he felt his limbs being stretched. His muscles contorted. His bones popped. His fists were clenched, his teeth were gritted tight. He did all he could to hold from crying out.

  After a moment, the captain held up his hand and the soldier pulled back on the reigns, halting the horse. The ropes, still taught, stopped their pull and Gash rested, breathing heavily.

  “Why is your tribe in the Great Plains?” the captain said, kneeling next to him.

  Gash did not reply. He did not remember and knew it would be useless to repeat himself. He merely lay there, attempting to recover. The captain stood and signaled again for the horse to be moved. The soldier obediently did so and Gash was stretched once again. Again, he did not cry out.

  After a twice-as-long span, the captain questioned Gash again, and once again received the same lack of response. While Gash was being stretched a third time, the captain stood back and signaled to another soldier. The soldier stepped up with a short, leather whip in his hands, its many tails tipped with thick, leather beads. The soldier viewed only a moment the many scars of varying sizes and directions that covered the half-orc’s back before looking to his commanding officer. The captain just stared at him awaiting him to carry out his orders. Looking back down, the soldier obediently began striking Gash’s back. Gash grunted at each whip but gave no more.

  In his mind, he searched, both for meaning and for memories. Why had his clan gone to the Cursed Land? Gash knew Gurak had led them, but he did not remember why. Those years had been consumed by an undying will to someday end Gurak’s reign. What memories he had from before that time were buried deep and would take some time to uncover. So instead, he turned his thoughts to what the captain had meant by asking how long his clan had been tracking them. He knew of no action of his clan to track any humans, much less these who had just entered this valley. And in all the years he had lived there, he had never observed any of the orcs leave his clan, save through death.

  The captain gave orders to cease and Gash knew he had only a few moments before it recommenced. His mind worked furiously to come up with answers as the captain’s armored footsteps drew closer.

  **********

  Marian worked carefully and tenderly, re-bandaging a wound she had just finished cleaning. She smiled in her motherly way at the young boy whose leg she was tending. The boy did not return the gesture, but stared at her, a blank expression on his face.

  “Are ye quite finished?” came an agitated voice from next to her.

  Marian looked up to see a man who’s face closely resembled that of the boy’s standing next to her. His look mirrored his tone. Marian did not miss a beat.

  “How does it feel, Robbie?” Marian asked the boy, smiling at him again.

  The boy gave a weak “fine.”

  “Bah!” said his father, pushing past Marian and taking his son in his arms. “Ye probably made it worse. Gettin’ all that orc filth on yer-“

  “Quite interesting that you didn’t seem to think so while I was cleaning the wou-“

  A horse’s neigh somewhere in the distance halted her words and caused her to look about, though she wasn’t sure why. The thick company obscured her view and she saw nothing out of place. Yet an ill sense was over her, one that she could not quite explain.

  “That’s probably them stretching yer friend,” the man offered, a cruel smile on his face.

  Marian looked to him and then back into the company. And worry came over her.

  “Good day to you, sir,” she said hastily as she picked up her dress and made her way back towards where she had left the captain. After only a short distance, she was halted by three soldiers who moved to stand in her path.

  “What is this?” she questioned them, agitated. “Be gone with you! I must speak with the captain.”

  “No one is allowed beyond this point, lady,” One of the knights offered in reply.

  “Surely I am an exception, young man,” Marian objected. “I have provided this troop food and the one you have in custody is under my charge. I must see to his well-being.”

  “I’m sorry, lady. But no one is allowed beyond this point while the orc is being questioned.”

  Marian shuddered and then attempted to push past the knights, ordering them to let her through. The knights responded by first resisting her and then pulling her wrists behind her and leading her away opposite her intended direction, much to her objection.

  ************

  Escorted by several soldiers, Gash came back to the spot where he had previously sat, his hand now clutching a wound on his side. He was about to sit when Dolanas motioned for him to halt and then pointed ahead of him. Gash looked to see that the cage had been completed. Allister stood holding the door of the cage open, awaiting Gash’s compliance. Gash understood and, without hesitation, moved forward and stepped up into the large, wooden cage, which now rested on four wheels of wood and iron.

  As Gash cleared the door, Allister shut it behind him and secured it with an iron padlock. Gash wandered over to the back of the cage and peered at the ground through the bars. There was a large patch where mud lay instead of grass. Reaching through the bars, he scooped up a handful and commenced to pack it into the wound at his side where the soldier had scourged him.

  As he reached to get more mud, his eyes caught something and he looked up. He spotted her almost immediately, peaking from behind a nearby tree. In his now limited view, he looked around to see if anyone else had noticed her. Fortunately, he saw no other eyes upon the forest in her direction. He looked again and she was either well hidden, or gone, for he did not see her and so he returned to his task.

  “Gash!”

  Gash looked to the opposite side of the cage to see Marian gripping the bars briefly before hurrying around to his side.

  “Are you alright?” she asked, desperation in her voice as she reached through the bars and gripped his hand.

  Gash simply gripped her hand and nodded in reply.

  “Hey!” Allister said, hurrying around. “Step away-

  “You step away, young man!” Marian snapped, pointing a finger at him, “I am in no mood to deal with you now!”

  Allister swallowed and backed up a step, falling victim to the same subordination that Mara had felt at her first meeting with the woman.

  “Where are you hurt?” Marian asked, turning back to Gash.

  Gash showed her the mud that was now packed over the wound.

  “Gracious me!” Marian exclaimed. “Butchers! Well, you did well to cover it. Where else are you hurt?”

  “That is all,” Gash replied.

  Marian’s eyebrows rose.

  “Truly?” she asked.

  Gash nodded.

  “Praise the Godking,” she stated. “It seems odd, though. You must have said something that satisfied them.”

  “I did not know their answers. So I told them all.”

  “That was very wise. Well, mind that wound. I will fetch some herbs and do what I can to aid its healing.”

  Something splashed on the lady’s arm and she looked down to see a droplet of water spread across her skin. As she looked up, the sky broke open into another downpour.

  “Find shelter,” Gash told Marian who looked back to him at his words.

  “Don’t worry,” Marian replied. “I’ll stay with the army. I’ll keep petitioning for your release as long as it takes.”

  Gash nodded and allow
ed her hand to slip from his as she hurried off to find some shelter from the rain.

  ************

  The rains stopped after a time, but the moisture in the air did not dissipate even after the sun had dropped behind the hills. By the time night had fallen, the air had grown unusually thick and warm. The army remained in its place and Gash in his cage. He sat imprisoned, but unharrassed. Marian had brought him some herbs, which he had packed beneath the mud before laying down in an attempt to get some rest.

  He then lied down and entered into a fitful sleep, still aware of the soldiers around him. He woke from a nightmare of wolves mobbing him. He was in the midst of attempting to fight them off when he started awake. He looked around, unsure as to where he was. Then he saw the torchlight illuminating the figure of the elder night sitting outside his cage with his back to him. He still seemed to be at his task of whittling…or he was at it again? Gash couldn’t figure which.

  Not wishing to return to sleep, he sat up and waited for his nerves to calm from the dream. A sharp pain struck him in the side and Gash looked down to the mud-packed wound. The mud had dried but was maintaining its seal. Still, more would not hurt and so he moved to the rear of the cage to gather more of the stuff.

  Suddenly feeling a pair of eyes upon him, he began to look around. The soldier named Allister lay asleep outside the cage and no other soldiers were looking at him. His eyes turned to the darkness of the forest. He remembered seeing Mara’s lithe form and wondered if she stared at him now. The moon and stars were obscured and the darkness of the forest was thick. Despite his efforts, he could see nothing beyond the torchlight of his prison.

  Then, a flash of movement off to his left. His eyes darted over in that direction, but he saw nothing but the side of a large rock at the edge of the torchlight. He moved to the edge of his cage, peering into the darkness. His efforts were rewarded by the sight of Mara’s face peeking out from behind the rock. Gash glanced back to the elder knight. The man was as he had been before. Gash could even still hear the sounds of his whittling. He turned back in time to see Mara dart out from behind the rock up to Gash’s cage. She knelt beneath the base, doing her best to stay concealed in shadow whilst keeping her eyes on her surroundings.

  “How fare you?” she whispered.

  “Leave,” Gash whispered back.

  “You know you cannot ask me to do that. I will not abandon you.”

  “You cannot help me now. They are too many. You will die-“

  “Then I shall die!” Mara whispered, at last looking up at him with a fierce look. “That is what it means to honor a lifedebt. To disregard such a thing is to disregard me and the ways of my people. I would not do so to you, Gash, do not so to me.”

  Silence passed between them as Gash contemplated her words and swallowed his error. At last, he nodded. Mara nodded back and her face softened.

  “Good,” she whispered. “Now how do I get you out of there?”

  Gash glanced back behind him. The elder still sat whittling.

  “The one behind me,” he whispered, turning back to Mara. “He has the key.”

  “Then he shall give it up to me.”

  “Do not kill him.”

  Mara made a show of rolling her eyes and then slipped beneath the wheeled cage. There was little room and Mara was forced to slink through the mud almost on her belly. When she emerged on the other side, she was a mere five feet from the elder knight who still sat whittling. She looked this way and that. She could see no other knights, but there was not much light and what little there was to be had, she found herself to be near the center. She would have thrown a cloak or a blanket over it to smother the flame and then make her move, but she had none and there was no time to dig in her pack. She had to move quickly.

  Stealthily, she crept up behind the knight. He sat with his back to her, busy about his task. His halberd lay on the ground beside him. She could see a gap where bare skin was exposed between helm and backplate. Her feet made no sound. One hand left her staff. She pulled it back and stiffened her fingers, preparing to deliver a strike that would render the elder knight incapacitated, but leave him otherwise unharmed.

  “It’d be best if you turned around and headed back where you came from, young miss.”

  Mara froze. The gruff voice undoubtedly came from the man in front of her. Yet he was still facing away and still busy about his task. For a moment, she did not know what to do. Then the voice spoke again.

  “You’ll need to get past me to free your friend and I’m afraid that just isn’t going to happen.”

  At those words, Mara’s pride rose within her. Her temper flared and her resolve hardened. Her hand shot forward. Faster than she would have thought possible, the knight leaned to his right. His hands caught her wrist and with strength she would not have accredited to him, he pulled and flipped her onto her back. It nearly knocked the wind out of her, but not quite. The moment her wits came back to her, she rolled backwards, bringing her feet up into the soldier’s chest. Her feet struck the man’s breastplate, doing no harm to him, but being successful in pushing him back. It was precisely what the move was meant to do and it gave Mara the split second she needed to get to her feet and take a defensive stance. She brought up her staff just in time to deflect the blade of the man’s halberd.

  Mara found herself completely on the defensive as the man made swipes, swings, and lunges at her with his lengthy weapon. Even with her staff, he still had reach on her. His speed and tactic at keeping his attacks close to the center, made it impossible for Mara to get closer. His movements were too precise and controlled. She had no hope of swinging around the side of him, or of executing any other tactic for that matter. She was quite clearly outclassed and felt herself losing ground as she was driven back. How he had such skill and mastery of his weapon within such a stout frame was beyond her, yet she found herself losing ground in her defense as well. If this kept up, he would eventually get a strike through and she’d be dead. She had to take a risk to break the combat and make a run for it. She hoped she wasn’t underestimating the man’s ability to run as poorly as she had his ability to fight.

  Seeing the best opportunity she figured on getting, she swung her staff with both hands, striking hard the blade of his halberd and causing a loud clang to ring out. The move would leave her open for an attack if she stayed locked in combat but would stun his weapon long enough for her to turn and flee, which she promptly did. She ran back towards the edge of the cage, heading for the forest. Two soldiers stepped out of the gloom to block her path. She planted her staff in the ground and vaulted forward as they swung their swords. Their blades contacted the wood of her staff, resounding with a clang as Mara brought her foot into the face of the one on the right, knocking him to the ground. She landed and turned to engage the other. She easily deflected his swing and swung the end of her staff into the side of his head. He crumpled to the ground and Mara again turned to take flight but fled back as four more soldiers appeared. She halted again at the sight of the elder knight still standing there. Heading towards the other edge of the cage, she silently cursed as two more soldiers appeared.

  Desperation rang out in her mind. She needed to get someplace safe. She needed…high ground! In a moment, she had her plan. She changed direction slightly and headed towards the cage.

  ************

  “Sir!”

  The captain had taken the time during their respite to take stock of the soldiers and refugees they escorted. Many asked questions of the orc to which he gave no reply except to say that they were safe for the time being. It was after dark by the time he had finished and he had been consulting with Marian when his attention was drawn to a soldier running up to the both of them.

  “There’s trouble with the orc.”

  “Blastit,” the captain muttered under his breath as he drew his sword and hurried to the area that held the cage. He arrived to find a rather disheartening sight. In the flickering torchlight, he could see several of his soldi
ers clamoring up to the top of the cage in which Gash was held. But it was not the half-orc sitting quietly in his prison that harassed them, but the fiery-haired youth that stood atop the cage, skillfully warding off, and knocking off any who attempted to reach her and pull her from her platform.

  The captain stopped and lowered his sword at the sight.

  “I felt her through the ground, sneaking up to the cage from behind, Captain.”

  The captain looked to Dolanas standing next to him, watching the scene.

  “She was stealthy enough to avoid being seen by everyone and skilled enough to parry my blade when I came after her. She was whispering to the orc, asking him how she could free him. She thought to ambush me. We fought for a moment and when she realized she was being surrounded she vaulted herself up to the roof. That’s when all this mess started.”

  The captain turned back to look at the scene before him. One of the knights managed to reach the top and get to his feet. He charged the youth with his sword raised overhead. With a spin, Mara dodged and swung her staff downwards, sweeping the man’s feet from under him. Before he could recover, she pushed him off the edge with her foot. He fell to the ground upon three other soldiers. Mara then immediately turned and struck in the face one who had almost made it up and then another, knocking them both to the ground. She then spun around, waiting for her next opponent.

  “Come at me!” she shouted out when not another crested the top of the cage, “Which of you don-gas would like to try again?”

  As she spoke, the captain noticed a soldier near to him load and raise a crossbow at the young lady. The captain reached out and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. The man looked back to see his captain giving him a sign to hold. Mara continued to throw insults and staff swings at the soldiers surrounding and climbing the wheeled cage upon which she stood as Marian came to stand beside the captain.