Miller, Half-Orc

by J R Marshall

  We were both young and there was so much he and I learned together. Our bond and understanding grew daily, yet it would take a year for the maximum symbiotic harmony to be reached.

  During the days ahead, I would harvest the energies required for the application of craft, and port myself and hound some four miles out of town, the new enhanced limit of my ability.

  However, the first time I transported myself, my connection with Wisp was broken, or rather absent is perhaps a better word.

  I was distraught, thinking I had permanently severed the bond, wroth with myself, momentarily despairing, comprehending the devastation a parent feels when a child is lost to misadventure or disease.

  But twenty seconds later Wisp reconnected and I spent half an hour checking and querying the meaning. Why couldn’t I transport Wisp? I worried that I risked tragedy.

  In the end, that first time, Git and I walked back into town, fearful to risk too much, anxious to ask Tam, who later reassured me that portal travelling only applied to physical presence, as with the case of Sandy, but not pure intellect, such as Wisp’s, for I had disclosed his name to her.

  I sat in front of her, waves of relief washing over me, almost tearful, yet I can assure you, the reader, no wetness protruded from my eyes, anathema. I don’t cry, but in the telling of this story you need to understand just how relieved I was.

  I added an addendum, a scribe being recalled, for reading that which they wrote, I thought I had told my scribes to delete this passage. Perhaps I hadn’t. Such was the emotion, rekindled when events are recalled to mind.

  EPILOGUE

  For the next three months, whilst waiting for the arrival of early spring, I spent some time in Tam’s company, and yes, I allowed her to tutor me in some aspects of craft, the fashioning of spells of greater order. She showed me how to magnify applications of transport, such that the four miles I could accomplish without accurate knowledge of my destination, could be enhanced ten or possibly twenty fold, but only with a detailed recollection of where my destination was, a precise knowledge, for there were risks in travelling too far.

  She explained why only Sandy could transport us to the driest part of the earth, for Sandy being an earth elemental had already visited the area, and it was his accurate knowledge that allowed the enhancement of Tam’s craft.

  As we sat, so many times in her deep room, the bowels of her castle, she taught me the ability to sense other practitioners of craft, how whilst dwelling deep in mediation and allowing my mind to reach out through the timeless rhapsody, listening to the music, you could feel the ripples of energy filling voids, giving an idea where others harvested the strands of power, for just like water flowing into a hole, you could guess the direction of currents, and according to the depth of your meditation, it was possible to glean a very rough idea of the power being gathered, and thus the strength and skill of a distant sorcerer, or rather the ability of the practitioner.

  We journeyed together, Tam, Sandy, Wisp and I, learning how to enquire of other spirit creatures, learning the events that unfolded deep within, and upon the earth, though in this Wisp was mostly ignored, for his order in hierarchy was small, and whilst the little energies were fascinated with his association of Sandy, he held no authority except amongst his peers, who for the most part gave him a modicum of deferential treatment.

  The weeks marched on, and I was waiting for the coming of spring. I needed to escape the confines of Culanun, wanting no report of future activities to tar my relationship with Tam and Grimnir.

  It seems an oversight now, but I hadn’t considered that Tam would have a library, a scroll room, and waking one morning, Git and I walking around the castle boundaries, it dawned on me with certainty that Tam would have maps and knowledge far beyond the scant recollections of clerics, their limit stories of lands far away.

  So with access unrestricted, yet seeking Tam’s permission, I pored over maps, copying charts and learning about towns and kingdoms far away, seeking a destination where I could cause mayhem. Little kingdoms with petty rulers, the edge of wildlands, barbarian chiefs, and especially those lands inhabited by my brethren orcs, lawless places on the perimeter of the known world.

  With winter turning to spring I had one serious matter to attend to, the matter of Krun. So long had I been dilatory, for he was obnoxious; even here, so far from Gledrill, did he cause distress.

  There were rumours of his thievery and bullying, of his brutality to women, and he wasn’t popular even amongst the town’s militia.

  Yet I had purposefully restrained any action against him, aware that Tam would automatically suspect me. She being cleverer than I, she could almost read my mind.

  With the passage of time, winter turning to spring, I could wait no longer, and bidding Tam farewell, I booked a room at the Haggard Hen, a cheap room for three weeks, instructing the landlord not to trespass inside, for I wanted the furniture to be exactly arranged as my mind’s eye could visualise it.

  As for Krun I knew when he would reappear, for he frequented the whore houses and watching him, I pointed him out to Wisp, so he knew his mind and could visit him at night, deep in his dark dreams. For I was leaving and I needed to know how to find Krun when I was ready.

  I bought rations and general provisions, including tarpaulin and a horse, though I rode the animal for a few hours making sure the creature was suitable. Having been caught out with Grimnir’s spare animal, I had no intension of being sold crap.

  Satisfied the horse was sound and gathering all my silver together, I converted half into small gems and gold coins, for whilst gold is heavy, nonetheless compared to the volume of silver it replaced, it amounted to a few less pounds in weight. Thus prepared I set off into the wilderness, Git running alongside, my powers significantly enhanced, lethal as Grimnir predicted.

  As I rode or walked, heading initially for the great rolling hills and moorlands, I crossed north east passing farms, the decaying lines of the Grey Mountains forming the distant horizon, and pondered my missed opportunity with Miriam, and my lack of experience with girls. Yet I hoped these matters would be resolved in time. Git enjoyed his freedom, running free, a liberty I could understand.

  Wisp would forewarn who was ahead, for like Sandy, he could enter the earth song and instinctively know of all life that dwelt nearby.

  Initially we passed alongside farms and were watched by many people, including the odd patrol, and counting and speaking to men we met, I knew Tam’s recruitment drive was underway.

  Farm lads made their way inwards, mothers hugging their sons, fathers offering up old swords, heirlooms passed down through the generations, hung above fireplaces, antiques in many cases, yet serviceable. Parents and siblings anxiously wishing their sons and brothers their love, worrying if they would see them whole again, yet proud, not revealing their own fears, lest it undermined courage.

  I was fourteen years old and had shaved my beard as it was an embarrassment, now a slight stubble formed around my chin. The scar upon my face itched slightly, yet I looked older than my years and felt comforted with my travelling companions, an orc with his hound as it seemed to others, yet Wisp added so much more.

  As I travelled away from Cragtor and Tam, I wondered if I should have stayed and fought alongside her, but her defence did not depend upon my presence, rather the number of men she could muster, and encroachment upon her lands was many months away. I could help if need be, I would know through the earth what befell.

  The images Wisp had shown me of the great caves deep in the ground, the fabulous vistas that Sandy had described, allayed some of my fears for Tam, for the cost of running a large town such as Cragtor could easily be covered by the wealth Sandy could procure.

  At first, my travel had been hindered by the avoidance of crops, not that I would have bothered riding through a corn field, but this was still Tam’s land and I had circumvented fields, avoiding antagonising outlying farmers, yet as the fields gave way to rough fenland I found my progress no bette
r enhanced, the old east road fallen into disrepair, large stretches absent.

  I was hailed by one of the last farmers who questioned my motives, yet was polite as his manners and upbringing allowed.

  “Now then, sir!” He was collecting potatoes; two labourers worked alongside. He was the poorest of farmers I had seen, dressed in rags, so that it was hard to discern who was master and who was paid employee.

  “Are you joining the band of turds who live without paying?” he said, although I had no idea of what he spoke, but it was clear he was being infracted upon.

  “Master farmer,” I answered for my hound was weary and it wasn’t so far till I pitched cramp, indeed I was not instinctively an enemy of this man for he had greeted me fairly and was poor, the rags reminding me of my miserable existence barely a year before.

  “I’m leaving Cragtor, heading towards the mountains,” and I was happy to reveal my identity. I, similar to Tam, wanted to be seen to depart.

  “What turds do you speak of?” For I was curious; there was little amongst the day to stimulate the mind. My affinity to Wisp was wonderful but it did not preclude all other interaction.

  He didn’t enunciate his thoughts and heading towards him, I had sympathy, a trait that was rare, but the man worked hard and he hadn’t shied away because of my mixed blood.

  The farmer, thinking better of the association, was at once reluctant to explain and yet conflicted.

  Wisp imparted his thoughts to me.

  Scared, yet tired and exhausted, for men stole his sheep, he was poor and bereft of friendship, his wife had died in childbirth, and these his sons were eager to escape their obligation, seeking out the town and an easier life.

  “Who infracts upon you?” I said, and thinking that when I created a kingdom, there would be justice for all, yet ruled with an iron fist, blood and retribution swift.

  “Turds in the wild, who the fuck knows? But the guards are meant to patrol, and I’ve complained enough. What’s the point?”

  This was all a lesson to me. I knew that every copper piece counted, especially when you were poor and that you never gain anything by taxing a man who had nothing; this was Tam’s land.

  “Now then, master, you give me food and shelter tonight and I’ll shit on your enemies?” Of course there were other discussions, he asked how, and what I intended to do, cursing profusely and bending my ear with incidental drivel, but my countenance arrested too many question, and in the end he offered me a bed and stabling for my horse, though the animal was better off being left alone.

  I sat outside his hovel, a collection of buildings made from mud brick and thatched with straw, and whilst I ate fairly well I regretted stopping, for there was no way I wanted to sleep on his mattress, sharing a room with his sons.

  As the night drew in I sat next to my host aside a fire that smoked profusely, part filling the room with fumes for his chimney needed cleaning and the flames were not drawn properly.

  Wisp had entered the ground and was scanning the area, aware of life within a few miles, but importantly capable of distinguishing between sheep or wolves and men close to this humble farmer’s land.

  So it was that. I knew who approached and lying under my tarpaulin tent, Wisp entered my dreams, waking me two hours past midnight. People were moving from a neighbouring farm, heading this way.

  What was I doing? Why did I bother? There was no advantage to me, yet it was a tenuous service to Tam, and this farmer was poor.

  Clouds passed overhead. The half-moon, occasionally breaking through, cast grey shadows over the land, and a light mist clung close to the ground.

  I knocked on the hovel door and waited as his two hounds barked, also announcing my movement, and after a moment a latch was drawn back and opening the door the farmer stood there, a dagger in his hand, looking nervously at me.

  “Master Willum, had I wanted to kill you I wouldn’t have knocked.” But I understood his concern, and told him men approached and that they were his neighbours.

  “Bastards, I thought it might be Shanks and his lads. Which direction do they come from?”

  And enquiring of Wisp, I pointed. “They’re avoiding your house, circling round, three of them.”

  He called for his sons and a lantern, but I held up my hand, and asked what he was planning to do. Despite his cursing, he hadn’t really any idea, hoping matters would develop as he confronted his neighbours, yet not sure.

  “I’ll kill them or cripple them if you like?” I said. “Or I can drag them bound so you can hand them to the militia, you decide.” And he looked uncertain. “But you stay here for it is my debt to you, you fed me, that was the deal.”

  “I want to see their faces, but it means trouble either way for they have extended families. I’ll not have those bastards stealing from me, I’ll just fight for what’s mine, sod the consequences.” The farmer seemed wretchedly conflicted knowing there was nothing else to do, and trouble lay in any course of action he took.

  And understanding his determination, and approving of his courage, I suggested I would scare them away, and save him the trouble of a feud.

  “Now then, Farmer Willum, I will reveal a secret that will scare you half to death and if it scares you it will terrify your enemies.” For I was inventing an idea in my head, a way to scare his enemies into never returning. “You do not know me, do you?”

  Willum looked suspicious, and said he didn’t but that I was obviously a warrior, a man with mixed ancestry.

  “I’m a servant of the Abyss, slave to Akrraatsy, goddess of the hidden pits, and what you see now is not my normal appearance.”

  I flicked my fingers and told Git to stay on guard.

  “I will repay my debt, and after tonight you will have no more trespass on your lands, but you need to see what they will see, for when I leave, you will never see me again.”

  Willum had no idea what I meant, but watched as I sat on the floor meditating for ten minutes, whilst he packed my tent away and saddled my horse.

  Git sat next to me, and Wisp travelled whilst I furnished my craft, two simple spells – one to enlarge and the other an illusion spell, Wisp reassuring me that Wallum was presenting no danger.

  Waking from my meditation, I smiled, and said I had sought permission from Akrraatsy to reveal myself, and that she approved of his courage.

  “But only if you say to your neighbours that you summoned me to protect your farm. Repeat it…”

  “I am to tell my neighbours that I summoned you to protect my lands?”

  I led the horse and Git some two hundred yards away, loosely tethering the animal to a fence post, and walked back towards the open door. Wallum, having picked up a cloak was considering his options.

  “Walk with me, Wallum, with a lantern, but just you, not your sons.”

  And Wallum thinking it a trap, complied, knowing that if I had wished to kill or maim I could have done it by now, for he had no idea what I was talking about, servant of the Abyss, slave to Akrraatsy?

  “What you will see will make you shit your pants, but I have no quarrel with you, repeat what I said.”

  “You have no quarrel with me.” He looked confused and worried.

  Walking towards a corner field some quarter of a mile from Wallum’s hovel, I turned and said that his neighbours were hiding behind those bushes, at the far side.

  “They can see your lantern. Stay, and watch, do not move, and neither run away,” I said, for he was desperate to confront the thieves.

  And walking into the middle of the field now invisibly to both Wallum and his hidden enemy, I cast my craft, enlarging myself, no sound emanating from my mouth, and I grew, clothes, boots, sword and all. I towered over the potato field like a giant, fifteen feet tall, yet I wasn’t finished.

  Bellowing at the top of my deeper rumbling voice, I cried in agony, imploring Akrraatsy to smite farmer Wallum’s enemies, beseeching Akrraatsy to send me two of her hounds, swearing to protect these lands from all trespass, my position unkn
own to all that listened but close enough for the men hiding to fear the night.

  I completed my second application of craft, the forming of two giant hounds, wreathed in flames, loosed from the gates of hell, consumed in fire; they appeared at my side baying in the night air, their light coming from their illusionary flames, yet silhouetting my outline so that I looked like a demon from the very depths of the underworld.

  All total bollocks, an illusion, but what they saw and heard terrified them, and walking towards where they hid, they fled, scared for their mortal souls. I could smell piss on the wind; they would never be back, though that partly depended upon Wallum carrying on the pretence.

  I strode to the bushes, the hounds rending the silence of the night, and I cried death to any that returned. They heard. Looking back, I noticed that Wallum was running away, he had dropped his lantern, yet I could see him clearly in greyscale.

  Approaching the house and dismissing the illusion, the hounds flickering before they extinguished, I waited a few minutes longer for the enlargement spell to dissipate, and I returned to normal size.

  Walking past the closed door of Wallum’s hovel, I collected my horse and hound, both nervous and skittish. Git cowered in long grass for he had heard sounds not wholly of this world, yet far enough away that neither he nor the horse had bolted.

  Wallum would have no more trouble, and that was my last service to Tam, at least for a while, and leading my horse and hound, I passed into local legend.

  Two weeks walking, and reaching the foothills of the Grey Mountains, some seventy miles north of the dwarven mines I came upon a cave, about twenty-four feet deep, yet dry near the entrance, and surprisingly free of occupancy. There were bears and wolves in these parts, and I had managed to avoid the camps of wildmen, due to Wisp’s abilities.

  Yet my three weeks were nearly spent, and my lodgings at the Haggard Hen would cease in a few days’ time. I needed to visit Krun, but was perplexed about the horse, for whilst I could transport Git into my lodging room, I could hardly do the same with such a large beast.