Miller, Half-Orc

by J R Marshall

  Thrandar brightened upon the news, asking when I might be expected back, and should he keep my quarters ready? Learning that it wouldn’t be necessary, he lowered his head in an attempt to hide a smile; he wished us all a safe journey.

  Git, I thought. Don’t hit Thrandar, he doesn’t deserve it, quoting Tam’s admonition in my head. Yes he bloody well does. Grimnir also laughed, seeing me glare at Thrandar; he’d seen the smile too.

  “We’ll need to head towards the docks,” said Grimnir, “but we won’t be boarding a boat, it’s really for show. Can you walk that far?”

  “Of course I can bloody well walk, you weren’t that good.” But I was without doubt in considerable pain; Tam’s salves were incredibly powerful but usually took a day to work and whilst some two hours had passed since Grimnir’s lesson, my muscles were only now tightening. I quickened my pace. Bastard.

  Grimnir chuckled. “Stretcher! Make way for the invalid,” he said, loud enough that a servant, hearing Grimnir, looked in our direction.

  We walked about three quarters of a mile through the winding paths and street of Gledrill, unencumbered by provision, for these I was sure would be waiting for us upon arrival at the dockside. What did Grimnir mean about not boarding a boat? I didn’t understand.

  As we passed through the crowded thoroughfares of Gledrill I noticed that Tam had thrown back her hood so that her countenance shone; she was easily recognisable, and as for Grimnir, there strode a Lord of War – he was resplendent; replete in full battle dress, his sword sheathed in a leather scabbard threaded with silver, his helm of iron and gold, his shield made of ebony bound in iron and silver, and emblazoned on the front was a large golden battle hammer. He carried a great two-handed axe, the haft embedded with a gem atop the shaft, and I sensed a dweomer upon the axe, shield and upon the fingers of his right hand. The setting sun drenched his freshly scrubbed mail so that it shone with a golden glow. He looked like a Dwarf Lord from the days of legend.

  Walking in the company of the most powerful people I could ever imagine, I basked in the shadow of their glory, these two, walking with me, unassailable, imperishable. People stared at us, and wondered how it could be that I secured such company or perhaps how they suffered such.

  I did notice Tam tuck herself slightly behind Grimnir, as a child might shelter from a storm behind a parent. It felt wonderful as merchants and tradesmen, peasants and the scrum of the street made way for us. I wanted to be like Grimnir, one day I vowed I would. Oh, if only someone would insult the dwarf, or knock Tam over, how I would have revelled in the consequences. Now I knew why Grimnir laughed so much.

  Eventually we joined a larger cobbled road, which had been maintained to higher standards; there were so many people of different sizes carrying on trades, rushing about their business, trying to turn an honest penny into two, or not, as the case might be. The smell, sights and sounds were fascinating, I really hadn’t explored the place properly having had such limited free time, it had been all I could do securing leave to visit the charred remains of my old farm and retrieve the purse hidden some six months prior. Towns and cities were fascinating. But you needed silver, and whilst I had more than people thought, it was clear wealth was useful.

  As we approached the docks, Grimnir seemed to know the way to go; he purposely headed for an inn that was close to the water’s edge but of a more wholesome appearance than most of the hostelries we passed.

  Along the way I marvelled at the merchant vessels. The sails, halyards and sheets, the men working with skill and thrift. The efficiency and sometimes tardiness of individuals moving cargo. Barrels and hessian sacks, stacked along the edge of wharfs, each known to some as to location and destination. Enthralled by all, I looked out over the sea. Yes, I knew of the sea through study but this, the reality, the great massive grey expanse of ocean, for this I needed to stop and stare, yet there was a strange disquiet.

  The sun was dipping below the farthest point of my vision. Would I see the green flash told of in stories? Were all adventures this good? I waited and watched, beautiful, yes, even a half-orc is not without appreciation.

  Nothing happened – no green flash, the sun vanished. Just a bollocks story told by an idiot. Still, the sun setting over the ocean was worth seeing. Worth seeing, not worth going to see. I excelled in ignorance, always would?

  “No green flash tonight,” said Tam. She stood some thirty yards ahead, also watching the horizon.

  “So it’s true?” I asked as I approached her.

  She smiled and said she had heard of it from reliable sources, so, “Yes, probably, though I’ve yet to see it myself.”

  The cry of gulls wheeling overhead would forever remind me of that moment, my first sight of this alien landscape, the great ocean.

  “That,” said Grimnir, pointing to a large merchant vessel, “belongs to Tam, myself and two other former companions who I haven’t seen in many years. One I think is dead, the other cares not for it, I don’t know.” Grimnir looked closely at the vessel. “Looks a bit shabby, Tam! Is it nearing the end of its days?” Tam didn’t hear or was deep in thought. “It’s been useful for Tam and I, saves us silver.”

  “You own a boat, Lord?” I asked, looking more closely at the ship.

  “Yes, but don’t ask me how they work, bloody dangerous things, they don’t go where you want them to, leak water, and you need others to help you, and stop calling me ‘Lord’.” He marched onwards, just a little farther and stopped outside a fine-looking inn. Tam not needing to stoop, entered through an arch. Raising her hood as though instinctively, she walked down a short passage and into the common area of the hostelry.

  The place was busy, but not crowded. There were alcoves, tables and chairs also a fire, but with three men bent huddled around, talking over beer, and ‘bloody stealing most of the heat’, there was little spare for the rest of the room. I wondered whether I should get them to move.

  Whilst there were private places to sit and some of the alcoves remaindered empty, Tam sought an area visible to all near the middle of the room. Casting back her hood once more, she sat down; either the chair was too short or the table too high for she looked diminutive and vulnerable.

  Where’s Grimnir? My thoughts were somewhat protective of Tam, but Grimnir had marched to a far corner, and was beckoning to someone.

  I sat down opposite Tam. “Are you okay here? I can find us a better place by the fire.”

  She looked at me. “I think someone’s already sat there, Miller, but thank you, this is a good spot.”

  It wasn’t a good spot, Grimnir needed to find somewhere better, a little privacy would be good. Scarcely a moment later a voice echoed across the room, “Ah, Lady Bluebottle, you must be sailing tomorrow, I’ll be with you shortly.”

  A plump bald man perhaps five foot one inch, apron fastened too tightly for his overhanging belly protruded out concealing a belt, rushed up, Grimnir walking slowly behind.

  “Lady Bluebottle, err, are you wanting your usual lodgings before sailing?” He wasn’t quietly spoken. Too bloody loud, I thought. He needed lessons in discretion, the Lady Bluebottle’s business ought to be treated with privacy.

  “Yes please, is it available?” asked Tam.

  Of course it bloody is, or soon will be. She’s far too polite. I scowled and brooded in thought. Grimnir and I could sort out any guests in the wrong place at the wrong time. Grimnir looked at me, said nothing but imperceptibly shook his head. He held his gaze a moment longer than normal.

  Oh! I was missing something, some subtlety, a deception, what eluded me. No, no I wasn’t, this was all an act. Tam wanted to be seen, people were meant to hear us.

  “Ah! You must be leaving on tomorrow’s neap tide. Do please follow me, we have your accommodation ready, three adjoining rooms.”

  Rising rather noisily, chairs scraping, the innkeeper helped Tam to her feet. We were led down a scrubbed corridor, flags on the floor, clean walls with paintings of boats, sea-storms and other irrelevances
.

  Tam, Grimnir and I, were each in turn ushered into adjoining rooms, Tam the nearest, then Grimnir, and finally myself at the end of the corridor.

  As I stepped inside I wondered at the cleanliness of the place, the luxury, a bed raised off the floor – I’d never seen the like – a chair made of cloth and padded with something, perhaps horse hair or straw, a window, with shutters, and two, not one but two oil lamps.

  The walls were adorned with tapestries, finely crafted furniture made from oak and yew provided storage for provisions and cloth drapes fastened back on either side of internally shuttered windows allowed for privacy from the outside. Next to a desk complete with writing utensils, there stood a pitcher with, oh, only water!

  “Don’t get comfortable,” said a voice.

  Turning, I saw a door in the middle of the wall stood ajar. Only moments before the middle of the wall had seemed hung with fleeces, but apparently they simply concealed a party door between the connecting rooms.

  I peered around the door frame, and could see through Grimnir’s room and right into Tam’s, another door connecting the final room.

  “Please come and join us, Miller, when you’re ready.” Tam’s voice, slightly distant, drifted across the rooms.

  Please! The obvious difference between Grimnir and Tam. Perhaps Thrandar could have a word with Grimnir, now that would be worth laughing at… I’ll mention it to Grimnir. I knew I wouldn’t, but it made me smile, as I walked from my room into Grimnir’s near identical chamber before stopping and knocking at Tam’s door.

  “Bloody hell, who is it?” said Grimnir, looking around, deliberately ignoring the blindingly obvious. Me! For I stood waiting in the party wall doorway.

  Grimnir with a grin walked to the main entrance and looked both up and down the corridor. “No! No one here, Tam!”

  “Do come in, Miller,” said Tam. Turning very slightly, but not fully to Grimnir, she said, “Miller exercises a kindness and grace to me that you once had, perhaps you should observe and learn from him!”

  “Bollocks,” said Grimnir as he belched, “he just got lucky. I’ve got impeccable manners, at least when I need them!”

  *

  “I’ll be ready shortly, please give me a moment.” Tam was searching for something in her waistcoat pocket. “Do you know how far Cragtor is, Miller?”

  Staring down at her, a moment’s doubt crossed my mind, remembering Thrandar saying ‘he knew not the distance’.

  “The only town I know by that name is some one hundred and fifty miles away, the far side of Culanun, in the foothills of the Grey Mountains, above Hedgetown and the Southern Marshes.”

  “Not bad,” said Grimnir, before Tam interrupted.

  “Yes, you are correct, but before we travel, there are some matters you need to know of.” She paused, considering her words. I noticed the level of control she exerted, as though reconciling or stealing herself to duties not altogether relished. The pitch of Tam’s voice lowered and a sternness of words came forth.

  “When Grimnir and I return to Cragtor, it will be to responsibilities, duties and obligations; there will be sycophants, fools, traitors, and people who cannot be trusted. There will be false friends, and hidden enemies.

  “When we arrive you must be cautious, exercising discernment of every person’s motive. Never trust anyone until they have had their trust proven worthy, remember that!

  “You, Miller, have an intelligence and understanding of both good and wickedness, please use it. You will be flattered and fawned over, conned, cheated and deceived.” Tam hesitated, looking at Grimnir.

  But before she continued, I interrupted. “What is this place that it should be so different from Gledrill?” I gently asked, being somewhat worried. “And surely we have time to discuss this during the weeks of travel?”

  “There is no time like the present.” Grimnir appeared stern and there was a gravelly rumble in his voice, a return to maturity and formidable presence; suddenly he projected an aura of authority, but with a severity and purpose not seen before.

  “When we arrive in Cragtor there are duties involving the control of people’s lives, responsibilities affecting the management of others. Discipline must prevail.”

  Grimnir asked, “Miller! What is your most powerful spell, if you can forgive me asking?”

  Hesitantly, I answered, but looking firstly at Tam, seeking her wisdom, her permission, for the revealing of skill is counselled against, and Tam had laboured the value of secrecy, that ‘no one should ever know the limits of your power’. Her words had chimed with my natural caution, and I had remembered that lesson well.

  Knowledge is power, knowledge is everything. Don’t forewarn your enemy, never reveal your skill in craft. My thoughts recalled to mind wise counsel.

  And now Tam nodded approval, so as I looked Grimnir in the eye, I explained that without certainty, I could ‘usually’ travel many yards between two points, a portal spell, but I was not yet proficient.

  Grimnir smiled. “I know that spell well. No, no, I cannot cast it,” he saw the surprise upon my face, “but that is a remarkable accomplishment, well done Miller,” and he looked sincerely at me. Thrusting out his hand, he shook mine with a firmness and genuine warmth of friendship. I smiled, pleased with the goodwill shown.

  Grimnir looked at Tam. “Bloody lethal!”

  Grimnir, turning around, explained about the area of Cragtor, the ‘secret’ of Hedgetown. Much I knew, the lands were wilder than Gledrill’s farmland, famous for outlaws and being on the edge of the wild the lands were frequently under attack. It was frontier territory, a difficult place to defend and as such farms were concentrated close to the town walls, nonetheless trade flourished and the town had under good governorship thriven these last thirty years.

  That didn’t account for Tam and Grimnir’s cryptic warnings. What was the difference!

  Hedgetown’s hedge was not much of a secret, I was looking forward to seeing it with my own eyes.

  “Grimnir, tell me.”

  “The difference,” Grimnir glanced at Tam before grimly staring at me once more, “is that I am the Lord of Hedgetown and Tam’s steward during her absence from Cragtor. And you, dear Miller, will be used by every worm, scoundrel and chancer, because of knowing us, we must protect you and…”

  I suddenly felt sick. No, it wasn’t the beating from Grimnir, nor a reaction to the news of Lordship.

  The room seemed chill, a sudden realisation gripped my heart, and my blood ran cold, with shock and doubt.

  “NO! It’s not possible,” I spoke out loud, but I’d heard of it in fairy tales, the same ones from whence bedtime stories were told to small children.

  The blood drained from my face, and Tam, smiling, took my hand and sat me down.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “How long?” I asked, barely able to speak, my throat tight. I shook.

  “Two minutes.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Offering to become a supplicant, to be brought in chains, so as to appear without favour or friendship, indeed there was value; I could spy, be of use, no one finding advantage in deceiving me. Grimnir and Tam’s enemies might be more visible, I might learn matters not so easily gained, I was after all unknown, it would be wise, better.

  There was merit to my argument, but Tam, looking at me almost with a tear, point-blank refused to allow another chain to ever bind me, even for the sake of friendship.

  “I forbid it, Miller.” She was most earnest, having the greatest empathy of all to my former misery. “Never, never shall you go chained, especially so undeservedly. No! Absolutely not.”

  Grimnir didn’t want to disregard the suggestion, and between us, both he and I, persuaded Tam to a partial feint.

  We would transport together, to a permanently locked apartment deep within Cragtor’s citadel, whereupon armour and weaponry would be supplied; only one person would know me for certain, Glamdrun, and he would not be advised. It was a protection, in case of emergency, he
at least knew me though there was no great friendship, and in the event of desperate need he could be summoned. His duty would prevail regardless of any private animosity.

  On my arrival I would be prepared, that is to say, given weapons, suitable attire, and coin. And finding myself transported outside the town, a spell I could almost perform myself, I would gain entrance as with other travellers seeking lodging, and enquiring about work.

  Grimnir himself would travel down to Hedgetown with a routine caravan train, normal activities, I would join with that caravan.

  And so it was, I still ached. The salve hadn’t been applied generously enough.

  It was late afternoon, and Grimnir was looking seriously at me, as I sat upon the edge of my cot, painful muscles contractions rippling across my midriff. I was smothered in salve. Tam had wanted to call a professional healer but I was hard to explain, and besides, her salves were extremely effective, when applied properly and not walking around within twelve hours.

  Lying in a luxurious cot, I stared at the tapestries adorning the walls of this, a locked private chamber deep within the mighty fortress of Cragtor.

  The journey had been nigh instantaneous. Grimnir had undoubtedly been transported via Tam’s craft before, perhaps many times, but as Grimnir stared at me, deep in thought, I myself pondered, had he any understanding, any comprehension of the magnitude of the power Tam wielded?

  For whilst Tam had prepared herself, Grimnir had paced up and down the inn rooms, apparently totally devoid of any appreciation as to the task in hand, only when Tam had said she was ready did Grimnir show any comprehension, any recognition, a forced smile as he took hold of Tam’s left hand and bid me grab-fast the other.

  I, Miller, no longer an apprentice in crushing grain, was without doubt merely a new born infant, a novice in the craft of magic. Learned in languages, reading and writing, and having the ability to listen to the earth’s song I was quite simply an ignorant peasant, and in awe of Tam.