El-Vador's Travels

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El-Vador's Travels Page 7

by J. R. Karlsson

'I am El-Vador. You are welcome to try.'

  Had it been any other member of the settlement they would not have challenged Sarvacts in such a manner, but El-Vador had just survived a long winter of Orcish occupation and murder was on his mind.

  This didn't go unnoticed by Chief Sarvacts, who seemed amused by the display. 'You would really challenge me as I sit upon this great steed?' he replied in equally fluent Elven. 'I could ride you down without so much as an afterthought. Why make such a foolish gesture of defiance to me?'

  El-Vador refused to answer the question, which he knew may well have been true. He probably could not load and fire his bow quicker than the Orcish Chief could ride him down. 'When will you leave these lands? You do not belong here.'

  The amusement on Sarvacts' features was fading, he clearly hadn't expected such words from anyone. 'I can never leave these lands, I shall remain here for the rest of my days.'

  He started to trot down through the rest of the settlement, clearly this conversation was at an end in his mind.

  'This is your last chance, Sarvacts. Leave these lands.' El-Vador said with deadly purpose. He could well kill the man now if he wanted, it would do little but anger the Orcs if he were to do so though, no doubt Sarvacts would be replaced by an equally gruesome Commander and his settlement would be torched. No, his father had been right, he had to be patient and choose the right time to strike.

  The Orcish chieftain rode on in spite of El-Vador's threats, leaving him alone once more.

  His father was bedridden most of these days, the combination of the harsh winter and his growing sickness had robbed him of all his former strength. El-Vador did all the work these days and his neighbours had acknowledged that, though his efforts were growing increasingly redundant as the Orcs continued to expand.

  Firewood was the furthest thing from El-Vador's mind now, he needed the counsel of his father. 'I must do it soon father.' he said quietly, wondering if the man was sleeping.

  'I know that you feel threatened by their growing grip over the land my son, you know that you cannot act in haste or your efforts will be for naught.' Cusband tried to prop himself up in the bed but groaned to a stop. Eyeing El-Vador, he said, 'We have endured a long winter together, you and I. We cannot afford to have weathered that and throw it all away by acting rashly now that spring has reared its head.'

  'Chief Sarvacts himself walks freely in our settlement and not one person opposed him.' El-Vador said quietly. 'They grow complacent and overconfident in their occupation.'

  Cusband's gaze narrowed and sharpened. 'You mean Sarvacts himself walks alone and unprotected amongst us?'

  El-Vador nodded. 'I do. It was him, he said as much when we spoke.'

  His father's eyes widened. 'You did not do anything that would cause him to raise the settlement, did you?'

  'I am no diplomat, father. He did not seem overly concerned at the words we had.' said El-Vador.

  'I do not suppose that will put you in any particular danger,' said Cusband. 'He probably expected a degree of hostility from some of us.'

  'He received none from any but I.' said El-Vador.

  'This is terrible news,' said his father, seemingly too weak now for anger. 'It has singled you out as the sole dissenter to his occupation of our lands, he may well want your head soon in retribution for your words.'

  Cusband set a large, hard hand on his shoulder, as if he had made his mind up about something. 'You may need to act sooner than I suspected before he decides your words are a slight that he wishes to make an example of. Before this week ends, you must strike. Keep clear of Orcish forces for the time being, if they come looking for you we will know the time has come to strike.'

  'If they come for me, I shall deal out my vengeance without mercy.' he promised.

  Whenever El-Vador went into the woods to hunt these days, whenever he loosed an arrow, he imagined he was aiming at Chief Sarvacts' Orcish warriors. He had not experimented with the arrows any further, not wishing to draw the attention of the Orcs with the noise they would undoubtedly cause.

  He had not called on Mugrab's farm either since Sarvacts rode through the settlement. He did not care to admit, even to himself, that he had formed something of a liking for the simple farmer, the mere idea of liking any of the invaders was abhorrent to him. It had taken Sarvacts' visit to the settlement to remind him that there could be, there should be, no meeting between those who had come into the Elven lands and those who rightfully belonged here. In his own lands Mugrab may well have been a much better Orc than Sarvacts but in Elven lands they were both unwanted invaders. They were simply ones of a different kind, none of which he could tolerate.

  El-Vador was gliding through the forest when he heard the footsteps crunching through the snow ahead. He silently slipped behind a tree and readied his bow, there was no telling how the Orcs would treat him should they find him this far from the settlement.

  A predatory grin played across El-Vador's mouth. What better sport than tracking one of the Orcs through the forest?

  Through gaps in the trees, El-Vador soon saw who the blunderer was, a heavyset Orc he had seen many times near the garrison. El-Vador's lip curled in scorn, he did not care for any of the Orcish sentries but this one was easily the worst. If he were to vanish in the woods, never to be found, would the Orcs punish the Elves? He suspected that many of them would be grateful that such an oaf was gone.

  On through the woods the Orc stumbled. What was he doing this far from the garrison? Did he really think he could hunt out here making so much noise? El-Vador followed, quiet as a shadow.

  For most of an hour, El-Vador pondered how long he should continue following the Orc before putting an arrow in him. He could have shot him a hundred different times, and the miserable creature would have died never knowing why, or who had slain him.

  The Orc began cursing ever louder and more foully at his lack of luck. El-Vador waited patiently for the reason for this bad luck to reveal itself.

  'Now where did I leave you?' he growled. 'If you're hiding from me then you'll pay with your life.'

  El-Vador didn't like the sound of this, had the Orc taken a hostage?

  'I know it was around here somewhere.' Fury on his face, the Orc advanced to a clearing in the woods. 'Where are you?'

  Something flickered to his left, faster than El-Vador could see and lashed out at the Orc, wounding it. 'I am right here, foul creature.'

  For all its stupidity, the Orc was a fair fighter, the cut had marked its cheek but gone wide of its initial target. He reached out and clamped a hand down on the aggressor, which let out a feminine cry of frustration and anger.

  Drawing closer to the edge of the tree line, El-Vador saw that the Orc had hold of a woman. Or what looked like a woman initially, the gossamer wings betrayed that notion. Whatever this creature was he held it captive against her will and was planning unspeakable things. He had to act.

  'You give a bad name to Orcish warriors, taking captive of a defenceless opponent and forcing yourself upon her this deep into the woods,' he called out, hoping to get the Orc's attention.

  'Who's there?' yelled the Orc in return, causing the woman to wince. 'Show yourself!'

  El-Vador had no intention of doing so, his years in the woods served him well in this moment, he shifted to the side of the clearing silently and then called out again, 'release the woman and perhaps we may negotiate for your life.' The change in direction of the voice had the desired effect and the Orc was startled, though not as long as El-Vador hoped.

  'This is no woman,' the Orc replied. 'It's a Pixie, can't you see that?'

  'I am still a sentient being, you barbarous creature. Not an animal for your amusement.'

  He struck her with all his strength, not with a slap but with his closed fist, she spoke no further.

  'Leave us be or I shall end her life,' the Orc called out to the woods.

  For the first time, El-Vador felt the weight of the woman's life in his hands. She was dangling limply from
the Orc's arms now and he undoubtedly planned to end her should he not retreat. He couldn't afford to leave him alone with her, Pixie or not. Could he make a shot from this distance and avoid hitting the Pixie that the Orc was now using as a shield? He wasn't sure, the uncertainty and doubt made him pause.

  'Release the girl and I shall not end your life where you stand.' El-Vador finally said.

  A nasty grin spread over the Orc's face now. 'So you value her life then? From the way you speak Orcish I'm guessing that you're one of those bleeding heart Elves. What in blazes you're doing out here I'll never know, you're going to step out of the trees so I can get a good look at you though. Otherwise...' he let loose his curved blade and placed it over the woman's throat meaningfully.

  El-Vador let loose his shot in response.

  The Orc's head snapped back. Blood spurted from the open wound and its twitching hands dropped the Pixie, who fell heavily onto the forest floor.

  After making sure the Orc had twitched its last, El-Vador walked out to the clearing. His arrow had narrowly missed the captive Pixie and embedded itself in the eye socket of his foe. If any of the Orcs discovered their kin lying dead in a clearing with an Elven arrow through his eye they would raise his settlement. If the Orc were to vanish in the forest, never to be seen again, who could say for certain what had befallen him? It was a chance he had to take now so that the Orcs wouldn't immediately think of Elves. The other Elves seemed too cowed to possibly attempt such a thing. El-Vador was banking on their meek pacifism to help him for once.

  The Pixie was like something out of the tales of the Faerie that the elders in his settlement spoke of, the wings sprouting from her back were beyond description and not like those of an insect or bird. Somehow they did not seem out of place on a body that seemed Elven in appearance, if slighter and more pale in complexion.

  She still breathed, the fall had bruised her arms and legs but there were no markings on her head or face from the fall to suggest concussion. Her appearance was marred by the ugly bruise the Orc had given her, it didn't look overly dangerous though.

  With that in mind El-Vador came to a decision. Taking hold of the Orc's boots and dragging him back through the forest. He knew that a river was nearby and if he could somehow haul the body there and submerge it, those that came looking for him would not discover his fate.

  Before pushing the body into the river, he went back and carefully erased every sign of the Orc having been in the clearing, including most of the not inconsiderable trail that it had left getting here. By the time he was finished he felt his strength failing him, he needed to get back to the body and dispose of it.

  After he had completely submerged the body he was soaked from head to foot. Having taken care of that last detail, he went back to the clearing to check on the Pixie only to be greeted by emptiness, she had vanished.

  El-Vador came back home carrying an old wolf he had mercifully killed that had crawled out into the woods to die and chanced upon his path.

  'What happened to you?' His father asked from the bedroom. 'You look like you washed up outside the front door.'

  'I dumped a corpse in the river.' answered El-Vador, deadpan. Yet saying those words somehow gave his actions meaning, he had finally killed his first Orc. It had felt strange.

  Cusband struggled out of bed and advanced toward him, somehow he still appeared intimidating, even in his sickness. 'You did what?' he asked, the ominous tone in his voice held no potential retribution but still stirred feelings in El-Vador. 'How could you do such a foolish thing?'

  El-Vador maintained eye-contact with his father, it was important that he saw the reaction. 'I saved the life of a Pixie in the woods from the Orc, nobody will find him.'

  There it was, the fear deep in his father's eyes at the mention of that. He had expected the man to dismiss his claims as delusional fairy tales, yet he did not. Clearly he knew more than he was letting on, this just clarified what El-Vador had already known since his encounter in the cave. His father was craven and withholding information from him.

  Gathering himself, he asked, 'Why won't you tell me what's going on, father?'

  'I can't do that son, events are in motion that I have no say over. You must do as you see fit without being influenced by me.'

  'Then I shall go on without you.' El-Vador replied, turning away from him.

  'Don't you walk away from me boy.' Cusband said in a dangerous tone. 'You're still my son and you'll do as you're told.'

  Without hesitation, El-Vador knocked him down. When he got up, there was a wild look of disbelief in his eyes. He aimed a weak swing at El-Vador's head, only to get knocked down once again by his son. When Cusband struggled to reach his feet a third time, El-Vador offered him a hand. 'I am my own man now father, I shall live and die by my own choices, nobody else’s.'

  Cusband shook his head to clear it, El-Vador had not held back with the second blow. 'You have a hard hand with your lessons.'

  'You taught me well, father. You're a very stubborn man, it was the only way I could make you understand.'

  'I see now that it was wrong of me to attempt to forbid you anything, long have you been looking after both of us now as a man of the household would.' setting a hand on his son's shoulder, Cusband continued speaking with gruff affection, the admission was clearly hard for him. 'I believe in you. I don't know if I will live to see the day but I know you will drive them off.'

  He silently vowed that his father would be free one last time before this sickness took him.

  VI

  Vows are easily spoken in anger and defiance, reality often has other plans regardless of how vehemently you swear a thing. I no longer promise a thing, for even I cannot see all ends that could potentially break such a cast-iron claim.

  Gurgash picked his way along a path in the woods barely wider than the spread of his shoulders. He clutched his spear with both hands, ready to impale anything that burst out from among the trees. Behind him marched Harg, whose grip on his pike was much looser but belied the fact that he was equally alert. As far as Gurgash knew, there were no other Orcs in the area they had been sent out to scout.

  'Hurglug!' he called. 'Where in Gurthag's name are you?'

  He felt as if he were exposing himself to an army of secret Elven warriors with every cry, yet they had been tasked with finding the missing Orc, dead or alive.

  Harg muttered at his shoulder, 'If we do find the pissing fool we should tan his hide brown for making us venture this far beyond the boundaries.'

  'That's assuming his hide isn't already being used as the skin for an Elven war drum.' replied Gurgash before returning to calling. 'Hurglug! Have you gone deaf?'

  Harg took issue with his previous words. 'Did you see any war drums when we last fought the Elves? Hurglug is no drum. Besides, his skin is far too thick for such a fate.'

  Gurgash couldn't think of a single Orc who wouldn't have enjoyed Hurglug suffering so. The fat fool was nothing but trouble for everyone and everything around him. He wouldn't be surprised if he had somehow taken a wrong turn and got himself killed by a tree.

  'I know that look on your face cousin, I want to go back to the warmth of the fort too.' said Harg. 'We're not here for his sake though, we need to know if the Elves got him or not. Like him or not he was decent in a fight, if someone sprung something on him then perhaps the forests hold a resistance force of some kind.'

  He had been missing for a whole week now. None of the search parties had found any trace of him, the possibility of him living was slim but they called him by name all the same.

  After another hour's trudge through the dark, gloomy forest, Gurgash stopped caring what had happened to Hurglug. All he cared about was making sure the same thing, whatever it had been, did not happen to him or Harg. 'We'll never prove he was killed by an Elf, they're not likely to leave traces when they know we'll torch their settlement.'

  'Knowing Sarvacts he'll probably torch it anyway.' said Harg.

  'None of the other E
lves look likely to off Hurglug, no matter how angry our occupation makes them.' said Gurgash. 'Except the boy.'

  'The boy?' mused Harg. 'Doesn't look like much of a boy any more, could well have done Hurglug in if you ask me.'

  'He's always out this way in the woods too.' said Gurgash, the pieces beginning to fall together.

  'You've seen the looks he's given us.' said Harg. 'Wouldn't be a stretch to think if he stumbled across one of us out here he'd damn the consequences and hunt us down.'

  It was just a theory, but it was gaining traction the more they considered it. Better that they suggest Sarvacts make an example of the kid than raise the entire settlement. The time for battle had long passed, there was no sense in massacring any others needlessly.

  A stream lapped and splashed nearby. Gurgash's parched throat informed him that it was time to change direction. 'Shall we fill our bottles, cousin?' he asked, pointing. 'The springs are unnaturally fresh out here in the woods.'

  'We don't have time for such diversions.' Harg took a canteen from his belt and held it out to his cousin. 'You want a sip of my black stuff instead?'

  Gurgash turned his nose up at that foul Orcish grog, his cousin knew he had no stomach for it.

  Harg made a deliberate show of savouring the dark liquid, then motioned for them to move deeper into the woods.

  El-Vador watched as the Orcs retreated from the stream, they had been so close to potentially discovering the resting place of their bloated comrade. For now the secret of his location remained with him, he stopped pushing his luck while shadowing them. Had he been revealed they would have wondered what he was doing out here so far from the settlement. Judging from the conversation he had overheard, he was both their prime suspect and their scapegoat. He had considered shooting them but that would have led to more disappearances and more questions, too many for the settlement to survive. Especially with the likes of Sarvacts still in the area.

  No, for now he would remain silently watchful, preparing for the inevitable conflict soon to come.

 

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