Miller, Half-Orc

by J R Marshall

  “Miller, excuse me! My name’s Charsin.”

  Charsin wore tired boots, a padded leather jerkin, and a sword, that seemed old yet serviceable. He was perhaps aged forty, his hair thinning, and he squinted at anyone farther away than ten feet. The poor fellow looked lean, but more from necessity rather than choice.

  “I’m not in the employ of His Lordship, and am simply travelling down to Hedgetown to offer my services to farmsteads and anyone who will pay my board and modest remuneration. Some of the merchants have shown interest in hiring me, but with your achievements, and how you dispatched the goblins, I’m sure you would have no difficulty in gaining similar employment. What are your plans?”

  Several soldiers shuffled their feet, embarrassed by the question. Did Charsin feel that he had a similar competence to Miller?

  Torak looked at Charsin, and glanced at me, then stepped out of the tent. “Excuse me a minute, Lord.”

  He might as well not have bothered for we could all hear him trying to contain his laughter. People looked at one another, grinning yet better able to control themselves.

  Now I, Miller, under normal circumstances would have sworn at Charsin, possibly thumped him and certainly would have laughed too, for the question was absurd. Not this time, for having only moments before gently rebuked Torak, I was not now going to align myself, besmirching this humble warrior of dubious skill and a limited future. So I answered the question with sincerity and directness.

  “Thank you, but no, Charsin, if Lord Grimnir doesn’t counsel against it, I will head for the hills and hunt down wildmen, kill their hounds, raze their dwellings and wrest back that which was plundered. A thief cannot complain when the honour is returned. But, I wish you success in anything you choose.”

  Charsin, still oblivious to his differing ability and status then went on to ask the one question I had hoped would remain unasked.

  “How did you manage to burn so many of the goblins? For they seemed to have been roiled in fire.” I wasn’t prepared to answer.

  After a long pause I stumbled, searching the lessons taught in my earlier studies, trying to recall stories of none magical fire. There was something, but despite my efforts it remain shrouded, my mind unable to recall.

  “It was part of my, err… training.”

  “What!” interrupted Grimnir. “They taught you the use of phosphorous bags, those that explode and spout fire on impact? That was a profligate use of resource.” Grimnir had understood quite well my dilemma for his many years of association with Tam had honed his guile. The discretion was perfect, and timing impeccable.

  But gathering my wits, as an actor recovers his lines on a stage, I seamlessly reinforced the misdirection.

  “But nigh on impossible to replace, unless you know a competent alchemist, Lord?”

  “Alas, Miller, I don’t, it’s not really my field of expertise.” He pondered, hesitating in thought, as though putting effort into the conundrum, a feint. “But they are as you have shown useful tools in battle.”

  Charsin seemed satisfied with the explanation as did all present, though he would have talked, more, for I suspected there was no end to his desire to control the conversation.

  After a few more irrelevancies and opinions proffered by Charsin, I grew bored. “Enough, Charsin! Lord Grimnir, has an agenda to discuss, and I have other matters on my mind.” I shut him down. It was clear Charsin given any encouragement would talk incessantly.

  Grimnir’s tent was of a large hexagonal design, the central pole which I leant against being the only means of support, screens separated the main area from ancillary chambers, servants passed in and out, interrupting, till Grimnir bellowed, “Get out! And stay out until I give the word otherwise.” And after waiting for everyone to leave, “Tomorrow, we can expect problems. The caravan consists of approximately two hundred and twenty souls and will, because of its size, be too great an opportunity for bandits not to try their luck.”

  “Were we not expecting trouble tonight, Lord?” asked Elranir, a sergeant in Grimnir’s command.

  I belched far too loudly, and mumbled some apology, remembering Thrandar’s annoying counsel.

  “Yes, its newly brewed, not stale yet,” said Grimnir, looking at me with a slight scowl. “No, Elranir, they were totally unexpected, and as I mentioned to Miller earlier, the Lady Bluebottle will need to consider her actions. The attack was worryingly close to town.”

  There was a murmur of agreement.

  “We aren’t expecting serious opposition from the north surely, Lord,” Torak spoke, “for with the troubles in the Marshlands and the constant potential difficulties with your brethren in the Grey Mountains, we’re hard stretched in our facilities to cope.”

  “Torak, not every dwarf is hostile, and relations with our eastern neighbours are not in jeopardy. Indeed we are more likely to be offering them assistance than worrying about any potential difficulties there.”

  “Nonetheless these, as always are difficult times. We must be vigilant, has it not always been so?”

  “Err, if you say so, Lord.”

  It was clear that he didn’t think so, and it was unlike Grimnir to gloss over difficulties. I was listening.

  “…And I have found six additions, as you requested, wholly unconnected, new arrivals,” finished Torak.

  “Excellent, where are they?”

  “Patrolling, and in need of remuneration,” quickly adding, “they are, after all, new,” to reinforce the reasonableness of his comment. “We could start recruiting locally, if the incentive is right.”

  “There are lots of ways to incentivise. How’s the training course doing? It’s been several months.”

  “Excellent, Lord, the militia are much improved. Roderick has been thorough and diligent, though men are looking forward to your direction, and we do need to sort out the rosters. Some leave has been delayed, and equipment needs to be sourced,” and scratching his chin he added, “Zolpetre has been thrifty. There are, alas, issues.”

  I listened; the pain in my leg, annoying though it was, was dissipating. Tam’s salves were possibly magical, although whilst I sensed no dweomer they succeeded in slightly numbing pain after a few hours, and the effects were second only to healing by craft.

  I pondered… Tam’s cream must be sought after. I learnt later that people travelled great distances and paid huge sums of money for what I had taken as abundant medicine available to everyone. It wasn’t.

  So easily had I transposed between a peasant with attitude, no social graces, no clothes, no boots to call my own, to one that sat in the company of the most powerful and joked about wounds and the cost of chainmail. Was Grimnir short of money?

  I had one hundred and seventy-five half silver coins given to me by Tam plus about one hundred and forty-eight silver and sixteen gold coins, recovered from Joe’s hidden stash. Approximately five hundred and fifty-five whole silver pieces, though much was broken down into smaller coins. Still a considerable sum. Did Grimnir need the cash? Whilst I had spent some of the silver, the majority was preserved.

  Grimnir had given me a wealth of equipment, and Tam had said half of the armoury was probably his. I was perplexed. And tonight I had so many questions. Barely two days absence from his and Tam’s company and I was already missing the ready ease of conversation enjoyed whilst ignorant, free in spirit, without deception, without the guile required to conceal friendship.

  “Never run a kingdom, or a town,” I said aloud. My subconscious had allowed the words to slip my lips, for it chimed with the environment and was not at discord with current discussions.

  Elranir said he agreed, and hoped that he would never be promoted, for being a sergeant allowed him access to his lord, yet without the complications of management or diplomacy.

  “Ah! Yes Miller, for my part there is contentment being only an ignorant fighter in my lord’s service. I am free from the burdens of administration and worry, bellowing at new recruits is satisfaction enough.”

  I
t was well said, for it flattered Grimnir, yet didn’t require an answer.

  The discussion then focussed on keeping the column together and with only twenty-two fighters, there would be difficulties; stragglers would need protecting for problems always arose and the sergeants needed to know their duty and options available, which protocols to follow.

  “Tis a shame you will be out of action for a few days,” Torak said, looking at me, “for you would make a difference in any fight should we become hard pressed.”

  “Well if the healer’s work is well done, I will be up and about this time tomorrow, but regardless I’ll not be leaving all the glory to you and the others.”

  “If you say so, Miller, but I think you are putting on a brave face, for that wound whilst not serious still looked nasty.” He nodded towards my leg. “There’s the chance of infection. Regardless, infected or not, I don’t expect you to be running for a few days, maybe even weeks,” and he added with alacrity, “I’ll let you know how we get on, and how splendid I’ve been. After all, you’ve set an inspiring example tonight.”

  Finally, after rather mundane details it was sometime after midnight and the company bid me a peaceful night’s rest, and took their leave of Lord Grimnir and I.

  Waiting for everyone to get out of earshot, and refreshing my tankard…

  “Well done, Miller,” said Grimnir. “How was your first day of independence? I admit to being worried when that soldier started wagging a blade under your nose, and even more so when he collapsed in a heap. What was it all about?”

  “Oh! He was rude, it was all a bit banal.” I reached over and helped myself to some bread and cheese.

  “You know, Grimnir, one of the things about not being confined, is that when you and Tam are not looking, I can really teach idiots like that boy soldier a proper lesson. I get fed up being on my best behaviour, it’s really quite constraining.

  “Tam said something along those lines, about freedom, liberty. I wasn’t sure you would actually be joining us, and was delighted to see you perched on top of that hill. Is everyone giving you grief? Apart from your travelling companions, because a few more performances like today, and I bet the next time you walk into an inn someone will offer to buy you a drink.”

  “Oh yes! Talking of treatment, where were you when I tried to get back into town after Tam had transported me outside? Your bloody useless guards wouldn’t let me in until I bribed them.”

  “Ha! Not my guards, but I suppose you didn’t walk back with Tam; that would have defeated the whole point, so how much did they demand from you?”

  “They didn’t demand anything, bloody well ignored me until I made such a racket they told me to piss off.” I scratched behind my ear. “I had to offer a silver piece, though I gave them one half… There were four of them. At least they drew their swords, I suppose that’s something.”

  “I’ll mention it to Tam. She will know who was on duty.”

  “Grimnir, are you skint at the moment? I know you are rich beyond my dreams, but I remember you telling Tam you needed to replenish your funds before we headed off to Castle Quay, which by the way, we still haven’t been to.”

  “Well, only temporarily, but you needn’t worry. Running a town is expensive, and Hedgetown tends to cost more than it generates, but yes, you’re right, I’m not shy of funds, at least not when I get back.”

  “I have a few hundred silver if you want it.” I owed Grimnir far more, even though he said he hadn’t wanted paying for the armour. None other than Tam and Grimnir would have gained my money given without profit.

  “No, no thanks, it’s just better to let others realise that silver comes from mines and commerce, not grown on trees. People have a habit of asking for more if they perceive an abundance.”

  I shrugged, and…

  “How the hell do you have a few hundred silver? Unless it’s back wages from Joe. I hadn’t realised he’d paid you anything?”

  Grimnir looked surprised and suspicious. “Have you been behaving badly?”

  “Always,” I joked. “But it was due me, so I took it.”

  “Aha! Well, it’s to be expected. How much did you get?”

  “Not enough, but sufficient to flee and survive had Tam not rescued me.”

  “Talking of which, when will you see her again?”

  I explained my problem, the surprise and difficulty I’d experienced when preparing my spell.

  The preparation can be done anytime, but being drunk was not wise so looking at my beer I decided to make this the last one, for in a few hours’ time I would need to concentrate and wasn’t looking forward to the experience.

  Grimnir hesitated. “I can speak to Tam with ease when we reach Hedgetown, but in an emergency, and I take it that it isn’t?” He looked at me questioningly. “I could try at other times, but only when critical.” He coughed, grumbled, and said, “Magic, you know the sort, limited use, emergencies only.”

  “When we get to our destination, do you have any problems with my suggestion of hunting for wealth amongst the brigands?”

  In truth I had no alternative plans, but didn’t want to be under any headship. The urge to gain wealth and power was burning within, and tonight’s skirmish had only reinforced the allure. The adrenaline rush, the fay spirit so long held back, desperately wanting to break loose.

  “No, none at all, but please leave the farmers alone and don’t become a highwayman yourself, it’s bad for me, bad for business, and I would be forced to confront you.” He looked at me, seeking reassurance, hoping not to see an expression that might cause concern. “Any problem with what I’ve said?”

  I smiled. “Such easy picking, that’s why they all do it! Just a bad joke, don’t worry.”

  “Worry? I’ve enough of that already, but it’s fair to say any activity that causes distress to my enemies would be a blessing for me.”

  We talked about the risks involved in travelling alone, the likely inhabitants of the fells and hills both north and east of Hedgetown, along with allies that may be found; not everyone in the wild was deserving of slaughter.

  “Oh, and I thought dwarves can see in the dark, like myself, so why the torch?”

  “My eyesight in twilight is good, even in the pitch black of a moonless sky I can see better than men, though not as well as you I suspect, but it wasn’t for my benefit, indeed the torch makes my night vision worse, probably the same for you? But men needed to see where I was.” He downed his beer, and called for a servant.

  “You can come back in, Miller will be resting here tonight,” he said as three servants and a soldier entered.

  “The caravan leaves early, about seven in the morning, so I guess you’ll need waking an hour before then?”

  “Bloody hell, that won’t leave enough time.” I paused. “No, better make it two and a half hours before. I will need to meditate and prepare, err…” looking around, in the company of others it would be so easy to slip up, “err… my equipment,” I finished.

  “There will be little rest for either of us, Lord, but at least there’s a chance I can sleep on the wagon.”

  “Sod all chance of that, Miller,” Grimnir mused.

  A creature let loose, destined to harm, to murder, to slaughter, yet perversely wanting to preserve the life of Nandrosphi and his family and trying not to bend my leg. Grimnir was right, there was no chance of sleeping, yet the leg was resting, allowing the wound to heal.

  CHAPTER 6

  Nandrosphi had arrived as instructed an hour earlier than the caravan was due to depart, and coming towards Grimnir’s tent had become stuck fast between competing carts. Torak had ordered others to clear the way, and after a ten-minute delay we were lurching along the road, not the first to leave.

  Sprawled on top of the tarpaulin which once again had been lowered flat, Nandrosphi having given the reins to his eldest son, was eager to hear the news.

  “Apparently there was an attack on the caravan last night,” he said, waving vaguely in the wrong d
irection. “Did you find out any more about it? His Lordship’s men drove them off.”

  He seemed worried yet reassured that the battle had been so decisively won for rumour had spread around the camp that whilst the battle was hard fought, the guards had despatched the enemy with barely any casualties, and noticed my bandage.

  “Oh, Miller,” he looked sombre, “were you involved? What injury have you suffered? And…”

  “Yes, Nandrosphi, I was there and it wasn’t a big deal. My injury is very slight, and I don’t want to talk about it… Have you kept me some breakfast?”

  An hour later, I heard a distant horn, and saw two gallopers heading towards Grimnir’s group, one with a very young soldier who spotting me, kept his head down. Other horsemen were heading up to meet them.

  “Greetings, Miller,” and I saw Elranir slowing his horse as he converged. He and five companions were riding slowly towards the front.

  “Is there any trouble, Elranir?” I asked, for I was inexperienced with the concept of scouting.

  “None yet,” he said, “and perhaps we may get lucky, what with last night. How’s the leg doing?”

  “Fine, I’ll be running after you within the day.”

  “Ha! I think hopping maybe, but all’s well this morning.” Je spurred his horse forwards.

  Nandrosphi was listening, bursting with questions, but he restrained himself, looking around and periodically glancing at me, hoping I might become more loquacious.

  My mood wasn’t good, for once again the song had started as a hurricane, too deep, dragging me down into the rapture. The intensity had threatened to overthrow my mind. Lying on Grimnir’s floor, and unbeknownst to all, I had endured a mental battle so wearisome, so exhausting, that having gleaned the threads and connections of my craft and escaped to consciousness, I would not be revisiting, not at least until Tam knew and gave counsel.