They passed by a group of Temple Knights, resplendent in their plate armour.
"How many of those do you think they have?" asked Athgar.
"I don't know," she confessed, "but the night is early yet. Tongues are bound to loosen once the drink starts flowing."
"You think the Temple Knights will get drunk?"
"No, but the duke's men might. With any luck, we'll be able to pry some information from them."
Natalia halted, leading Athgar to almost run into her. "Something wrong?"
"I've lost sight of the duke. I could have sworn he was just over that way."
"You must be the mages Sir Raynald was talking about?" came an unfamiliar voice.
Athgar turned, coming face to face with a man wearing brown robes, the axe of Mathew firmly emblazoned on his chest.
"And you are?" asked Natalia.
"Brother Rickard," the man replied, "lay brother of the Temple of Saint Mathew."
"Not a Temple Knight, then?" asked Athgar.
"Alas, no. I am here to treat the wounded, not fight."
"We have wounded?"
"Saints, no," said Brother Rickard. "I meant with the army."
"I thought this get-together was for the warriors," said Athgar, "though I mean no offence."
"I have taken none," the Mathewite responded. "The fact is I doubt I would even be here, but the father general wanted it known our order is here to give support where needed."
"So I take it you'll be marching with the army?"
"I will, though it pains me to do so."
"Pains you?" said Natalia. "That's a strange thing to say."
"It is," the man continued, "but I must confess I see the entire crusade as being antithetical to the teachings of the Church."
"Then why travel here at all? Surely your superiors didn't send you?"
"That is correct. I volunteered, and before you ask me why, let me explain. It is my calling to look after the sick and wounded. Though I disagree with this crusade, I cannot, in all consciousness, sit by and ignore the suffering that often results from such conflict."
"I admire your convictions," said Athgar. "Are there others who share your views?"
The Mathewite smiled. "I imagine there are, but I am not here to answer for such things."
"Tell me," said Natalia, "you say you disagree with the crusade. I'm curious as to why?"
"The Church was built on acceptance, and yet here we are attacking others because of their beliefs. Mind you, the enemy deserves what's coming against them."
"Why would you say that?" she asked.
The brother displayed a stunned expression. "Has no one told you?"
"No, I'm afraid not."
"They are worshippers of Death Magic."
"Where did you hear that?"
"It's true," he continued. "They pray to their goddess of death, Rikasi."
Natalia was about to ask another question, but she was interrupted by a man in brown robes calling from across the room.
"You must excuse me," said Brother Rickard. "My captain calls. Perhaps I'll see you again later? If not, I'm sure we'll see each other once we march."
"Certainly," said Athgar.
Natalia turned to her husband. "Tell me about Rikasi. I'm not familiar with her."
"Neither is he if he thinks she's the goddess of death."
"What is she the goddess of, then? And is she really worshipped by the Therengians?"
"Rikasi is not the goddess of death," insisted Athgar, "at least not in the traditional sense. She guards the gates to the Underworld, making sure only those of bad character pass. Should a Therengian find himself there by mistake, they can rest assured Rikasi will send them on to the Afterlife. She is a guardian of the dead and certainly not worshipped by Necromancers."
"Interesting," said Natalia. "It appears the entire crusade is built upon a lie."
"You think explaining this will make it any better?"
"Most certainly not. They're using it as an excuse. The real question is, why?"
"You don't suppose there's godstone here," asked Athgar, "like back in Ord-Kurgad?"
"No, that would be stretching chance a little too far for my liking. There's something else. I'm sure of it."
Sir Raynald appeared through the crowd. "There you are. I've been looking for you two. Come and meet the father general, won't you?"
"By all means," said Natalia, "lead on."
Lord Dieter's voice boomed across the room. "There they are!"
As they drew closer, they saw him and his companions. Beside him was a short man, with a carefully cropped beard that was greying around the edges. "This is Father General Hargild," the duke said. "I've been telling him all about you two."
"Greetings," said the father general. He indicated the man next to him, who was similarly dressed in the dark grey of his order. "May I introduce his excellency, Master Talivardas. He is the regional master of our order."
The man was tall, with a long grey beard that stretched past the middle of his chest. His closely cropped hair gave him an imposing appearance, commanding attention from all those around him.
"Pleased to meet you," the Cunar master said, extending his hand.
Athgar reached out, looking down at Master Talivardas’s extended hand, but strangely, the palm was downward, forcing the Therengian to acknowledge the ring that stared back at him. He paused, not quite believing his eyes, for here, on the hand of the Cunar master, was a ring set with dark blue magerite. There could be no doubt, this man was a Stormwind!
Judgement
Autumn 1104 SR
* * *
(In the tongue of the Orcs)
* * *
Kargen paused, looking at the ground. "We are close," he said. "There are signs of frequent foot traffic."
Shaluhk listened. "We are indeed. I hear the distant sound of a village at work."
Kargen looked at his bondmate. "You did not have to accompany me," he said, "but I am glad we are together."
"As we should be. We are a team, you and I."
“Do you still worry?” he asked.
She nodded. “I can not shake this feeling.”
“Then let us return to Ord-Ghadrak. I would not put you in danger."
“No, we can not. Without the help of the Stone Crushers, victory would be in doubt. You know as well as I that we must do all we can to ensure the safety of our people.”
“Even at risk to yourself?”
“Yes,” said Shaluhk, “and you?”
“I am the Chieftain of the Red Hand,” said Kargen. “I can not expect my tribe to risk their lives if I am unwilling to do the same.”
“Spoken like a true leader.”
“What makes you think that danger awaits?”
"I do not know. I just have a feeling something will go wrong."
"Will the Ancestors not guide us?"
"In their own way, yes. They are the accumulated wisdom of our race. The mistakes of the past are not forgotten, thus allowing us to avoid making them in the future."
"I wonder what they might make of our present plight?"
"We are trying to unite three tribes to help one group of Humans against another. I doubt such a thing has happened before."
"What of the west?"
"That is unfolding even as we speak," said Shaluhk. "And while our kin help the Humans there, insufficient time has passed to tell if it will be to the overall benefit of our people."
"What does your gut tell you?"
Shaluhk laughed. "You sound like Athgar."
"I shall take that as a compliment, but you are avoiding an answer. I would know your thoughts, for I value your opinion."
"There is danger ahead, of that I have no doubt. Kirak warned us about Zahruhl's treachery."
"You think he will not help?"
"I think he WILL, but the price he asks may be too high."
"Perhaps," mused Kargen, "but if he refuses, we are in no worse a position than we are now."
"I think that unlikely. Our people will not submit so easily."
"I think you are wrong, bondmate. Without your guardianship, the tribe will fall into disarray. Say what you like about Zahruhl, but he knows how to lead his people. Khasrahk offers safety and security. Can you say with certainty that our people would refuse such an offer?"
"Would not another rise to take my place if I fell?"
"Who?" said Shaluhk. "Laruhk? You know he would die by your side rather than flee, and the same goes for Durgash. But no, I am afraid your death would spell an end to the Red Hand."
Kargen grimaced. "Then I shall do my best to remain amongst the living."
"As will I," she added. "Now, let us put aside these gloomy thoughts. We have a chieftain to visit."
* * *
The aroma of smoke drifted through the woods, indicating the proximity of the village. Kargen kept a close eye on the path ahead as it twisted through the trees, and then the stone entrance of Khasrahk came into view.
Two Orcs stood watch, the butts of their spears resting on the ground. They gave little notice of their new visitors, not even deigning to welcome them. Shaluhk thought it strange but held her tongue, for complaining would do little to put them in a positive light.
Through the entrance they walked, taking in the village beyond. Much like Ord-Kurgad, the wall ran the perimeter of the place, with an opening through which one could enter. There was no gate to speak of, though in times of war, one could be created relatively easily. Kargen found himself wondering if the dreaded tuskers ever ventured into town, but on closer reflection, he thought it unlikely.
The space beyond the entrance was open, with huts to either side and a clear area that stretched eastward, culminating in the great hut Zahruhl called home.
Kargen slowed, a feeling of caution gripping him. He looked at Shaluhk to see that she, too, had slackened her pace. Villagers watched them warily but none spoke. It was as if every eye in the place was fixed firmly upon them.
At last, a familiar face appeared. Rugg, the master of earth, had exited the great hut and was now walking towards them at a steady pace. Kargen and Shaluhk halted, waiting for the elderly Orc to come closer.
"Greetings, Rugg," said Kargen.
"Honour to your Ancestors," added Shaluhk.
"Kargen, Shaluhk," said Rugg, "what brings you to Khasrahk?"
"We seek an audience with your chieftain, Zahruhl," said Kargen.
Rugg looked around. "And yet you brought no hunters with you?"
"We did not think it necessary," said Kargen. "We have come to discuss matters of great import to our respective tribes."
"Then come," said Rugg, "and I shall take you to Zahruhl."
He turned around, making his way back to the great hut, leaving Kargen and Shaluhk to quicken their pace in order to keep up.
"He is quick for such an old Orc," whispered Shaluhk.
"So he is," Kargen agreed. "I see there is more to the master of earth than first appears."
An Orc hunter stood by the leather flap that hung, curtain-like, across the opening. He pulled it aside as they drew closer, allowing them entrance into the great structure.
Inside the stone building, they halted, and Kargen let his eyes adjust to the gloom. The interior was barren of occupants, making it appear even larger. He couldn't help but once again admire the work that had gone into the construction of the place, for the walls and roof lacked seams, their stone blocks fused together by the power of magic.
"Come and sit," bid Rugg. "I shall see if Zahruhl has time to see you."
Shaluhk recognized the insult, for Kargen was a chieftain; to make him wait was showing disrespect. She opened her mouth to say something, but Kargen's hand calmed her. Rugg disappeared into the chieftain's quarters, leaving the two visitors alone.
"Does he not respect tradition?" said Shaluhk.
"We are in someone else's hut," said Kargen. "We must respect their customs."
"They were friendlier than this the last time we visited."
"True, but we were only passing through."
"What does he hope to achieve by making us wait?"
"He is demonstrating his own importance," said Kargen.
"But you are his equal. Does he not see that?"
"This is not the place to argue such things. We must wait and see how this plays out."
"This is not a game, Kargen. The fate of our tribe hangs in the balance."
"It IS a game; do you not see? Zahruhl wishes to appear strong. If we can make him feel more so, then we have a greater chance of being successful. We must play by his rules, or we shall not achieve our objective."
"Very well," said Shaluhk, "though I like not this treatment."
They sat in silence. Shaluhk closed her eyes, the better to think, but Kargen kept his on the exit. He had heard sounds outside, sounds of feet moving, and he was struck by the idea they might have to fight their way out of Khasrahk. He loosened the axe in his belt.
Rugg emerged from his chieftain's quarters. "Zahruhl has deigned to speak with you."
Kargen and Shaluhk rose, showing their respect.
Moments later, Zahruhl came through the doorway, Voruhn at his side.
"So," said the chieftain of the Stone Crushers, "you have returned to us, Kargen of the Red Hand."
"I have," replied Kargen.
The two chieftains stood there, their eyes locked, each taking the measure of the other.
Zahruhl whispered something to Rugg, who promptly left the great hut by the front door. "Come, let us sit," offered their host, "and you can tell me why you have returned."
Kargen and Shaluhk resumed their seats, waiting until Zahruhl and Voruhn sat before beginning. "We have come seeking your aid," said Shaluhk.
"For what?" said Zahruhl.
"A great army threatens us all," said Kargen.
"I doubt that. You speak of a great army, no doubt you mean the Humans, but the Black Axe is more than sufficient to deal with the Torkul villagers."
"It is not the Torkul who threaten, but rather the Humans that live to the west. They are preparing to invade our lands with a large army."
"And how do you know this?" asked Zahruhl.
"The Humans of Runewald have seen it. Even as we speak, they prepare to march from Ebenstadt."
"Ebenstadt? You speak to me of other Humans? Let them fight amongst themselves. It is of no concern to us."
"It will grow to be so," said Kargen. "If we do not stand with the Therengians, then we shall be forced to stand alone at a later date."
"You do not know that for certain," said Zahruhl. "And in any event, even THEY could not penetrate the walls of Khasrahk."
"You feel secure behind stone walls," said Kargen, "but the Humans can penetrate even those."
"And how would they do such a thing?"
"They have engines of war that can make short work of your walls."
Zahruhl leaned forward. "How could you possibly know of this?"
"We were taught," offered Shaluhk, "by Nat-Alia of the Red Hand."
"You lie. The Humans do not teach such things to their females."
"You are wrong," said Shaluhk. "She is a battle mage, a wielder of great power."
"Then let her defend your tribe, or does she refuse?"
"Even magic has its limits."
"You speak of magic," said Voruhn, "and yet you yourself are barely trained in such things."
"I am the Shamaness of the Red Hand," countered Shaluhk.
"And yet, still," insisted Voruhn, "my words ring true. Leave talk of magic to those who are educated in such things."
"Let us return to your original topic," said Zahruhl. "You asked us to help the other tribes. What manner of assistance do you envision?"
"I propose each tribe sends what hunters it can
spare. We shall lure the enemy to a place of our choosing and destroy them."
"I see," said Zahruhl. "And what, might I ask, would be the price you would be willing to pay for such help?"
"Price?" said Kargen.
"You can not expect me to send my tribemates to their death without a cause."
"I am talking about the survival of our people."
"And yet, as I explained, my own tribe is safely within the walls of Khasrahk."
"You would have your kin pay you in exchange for your support?"
"Certainly," said Zahruhl. "I have taken an oath to do what is best for my tribe. Have you not taken the same sacred oath?"
Kargen felt defeated. "I have. What is your price?"
"I do not seek material wealth, but rather the enrichment of my people."
"Which means?" asked Shaluhk.
"I will consider your proposal, but I must have more hunters. You must force a vote of your tribe, and convince them to join the Stone Crushers."
"I shall do no such thing," said Kargen, his temper rising.
"And yet you already have," said Zahruhl, "or did you forget the seventeen of your tribe who already chose to join us."
"I have forgotten nothing, but I will not surrender the entire tribe to you."
Shaluhk heard the door open. Hunters flooded into the room, led by Rugg, but Kargen appeared to take no notice.
"You must do what you think is best," said Zahruhl, "but I wonder what your tribe would do if their leader was no longer amongst them."
Kargen leaped to his feet. "You dare to threaten an Orc chieftain?"
Zahruhl rose in response. "This is my village," he declared, "and I shall do as I please."
"Seize them!" shouted Voruhn.
Kargen pulled his axe, ready to leap across the firepit, but a motion to his side caught his attention. Three hunters stood, their spears levelled at Shaluhk.
"Go ahead," said Zahruhl, "kill me if you can, but know this, before you can cross that firepit, your precious bondmate will fall to my spears."
Kargen fought hard to control his impulses. He looked at Shaluhk, seeing the defiance in her eyes but knew he couldn't do it. He dropped his weapon, then his arms were seized, along with those of Shaluhk as more hunters crowded into the hut.
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