The Orc looked up at him with contempt, knowing that the assassin would show him no sympathy and not wasting his breath in pleading further.
'Release me from your service and I shall call off my cloud.'
Sarvacts' eyes widened. 'Yes, you are released, you may do as your please.'
Anacletus smiled. 'Excellent. I lied to you, it isn't my cloud at all. I have no control over its... whims.'
He turned to El-Vador then. 'You may do as you please with him, Elf. We part ways at this juncture, know that if you come after me any further I shall terminate you with brutal precision.'
El-Vador barely noticed him, his eyes were still clamped on Sarvacts as he murmured assent.
Seeing that his time was done here, Anacletus swept from the room and vanished from sight, if not from mind.
'Why should I spare you, Sarvacts?' he finally asked after a time, noticing that with the departure of the assassin the smoke had stilled.
The former Orcish chieftain let out a long and hollow laugh as the blood started to pour of his mouth, then winced in pain has he finally stilled from the shaking. 'Spare me? I do not expect you to spare me, Elf. Not after the knowledge I'm about to impart to you.'
El-Vador stared at him, wondering if this was some kind of trick. 'What knowledge do you speak of?'
Sarvacts smiled back at him infuriatingly.
'Tell me!' the Elf roared, thrusting his blade at the Orc's throat in an entirely futile gesture.
The spike seemed to be soaking up the blood of its captive now, glowing with a malevolent intensity and causing tremors to run their way through the floor of the chamber.
'The atrocities you have committed this day are even worse than my own, for where I was empowered with the will to restore order to my corrupt people, you seek petty vengeance for a duty I was sworn to carry out.'
It was El-Vador's turn to grin back at the Orc as pain twisted through its body once more. 'What possible atrocities could I have set in motion that are worse than the wanton slaughter and enslavement of my entire race?'
Sarvacts forced himself to lean forward, pressing his throat against the blade. El-Vador withdrew it slightly for fear of killing the creature before he knew everything.
'Your race was but a tool, a means to an end. I would have freed your people from their servitude once my goals had been achieved.' His great arms tried to find purchase on the stone but lacked the strength to push him up any further. 'Then the Orcs would have bothered you no more, we would have gone back to learning our ways of old. Of not interfering or encroaching upon the other races.'
El-Vador snorted derisively. 'You lie, your race are bloodthirsty and evil to the core. You just wish to save yourself from the torment to come.'
Sarvacts somehow found the energy to hold up hand to still El-Vador's tongue. 'By planting me upon this crude spike you have set in motion the destruction of your own people. This fortress will crumble to dust and bury all that now reside within. The remnants of the last of your kin from the northern reaches.'
The young Elf's eyes widened. 'The remnants? I drove your forces back from the mountains, you did not reach the northern peaks!'
Sarvacts eyed him with a crafty look then for all the pain he was in. 'You are mistaken, Elf. We sent our forces ranging far north of your settlement and the order was given to slaughter them all. There is none of your kin alive this day beyond this fortress.' He subsided into phlegm-riddled coughing before struggling out the last few words. 'The blame lies squarely upon your shoulders.'
XXXII
I have been sorely tested many times, but that moment as he lay there at my mercy, that was my greatest test. The path I chose echoed throughout eternity, I march onward by its side and without regret.
'What will you do with me... Elf?' Sarvacts coughed out, blood trickling down his swollen lips.
He gave it some thought. If forcing him onto the spike would just leave him in endless pain the smoke may yet bereave him of any vengeance he may wish to enact.
A cracking sound came from above.
'The spike has taken the blood of its master, this place will be torn apart. You must do something, Elf. You cannot leave me here like this!'
El-Vador smiled at him, it was so clear to him now. 'Leave you here like this. Smoke choking your life away as it has been reduced to one of immobility and constant agony, watching all that you have constructed and fought for crumble around you.' He paced over the Orc's body, fixing him with his gaze. 'With the only hope of survival or secession of eternal agony being the one you wished death upon but moments ago.'
He moved to within touching distance of the Orc's ear now. 'You deserve this.' he whispered hoarsely.
Collecting his bow and sword from the cracked floor of the chamber, the Elf left Sarvacts to his torment and inevitable demise.
Interlude
It was over. I may not have had the satisfaction of watching Sarvacts die, but even if he did not I can rest safe in the knowledge that he is still buried deep within a collapsed mountain and in constant, maddening torment.
One would think that with this came a sense of freedom and prosperity, that I could return to what was left of my people in peace having avenged them. I knew in my heart that the voice which had facilitated my previous efforts would not allow this.
No, I cannot rest until every Orc lays dead by my hand. Perhaps then I shall finally go back underneath the ruins of that mountain and declare to Sarvacts all I have done before ending him.
'Collecting his bow and sword from the cracked floor of the chamber, the Elf left Sarvacts to his torment and inevitable demise.' the Elf said, then was silent.
Upon his stilled tongue came the inevitable hush over the room, with his second tale complete and no sign of the Arch-Inquisitor, it appeared that none of the gathered spectators knew what to do next.
'After all that you had been through to hunt him down, you just let him live?' Sykes finally asked, growing irritated by the lack of command. He'd risk the Inquisitor's wrath if it meant taking the initiative and keeping the Elf talking.
El-Vador shrugged at Sykes, 'The Orc wiped out my entire family with his destructive ways, I believe it was fair to leave him in agony for all he had perpetrated upon my people.'
'How do you know that he didn't somehow survive to come after you?'
The Elf smiled at him enigmatically, infuriating Sykes further. 'I know. Perhaps I shall tell you in time.'
The guard captain looked around him, the Magi were still tense. Apparently the willingness of the creature to weave his stories had not eased their caution any.
'Your tale took many an hour to recite, where is the Arch-Inquisitor?'
'I have prevented your Arch-Inquisitor from arriving until a much later time. Had you a proficient means with which to analyse it at your disposal you would discover why this is so.'
'What have you done with the Arch-Inquisitor?' bellowed one of the Magi, losing his patience entirely with the Elf.
The conical structure encasing the creature blazed with a violent and blinding blue, then settled. 'Do not test my patience, wizard. Your paltry conjurer's tricks will not encase me permanently, of that I assure you. For every demand and every goading remark, I will enact my own special variety of retribution.'
A shiver passed up the spine of Sykes, even wrapped in energies and powerless to hurt them, the thought of future retribution from a seemingly ageless being seemed a curse that would forever dog them.
'Have you another tale that you are placing in order as you speak to us?' he probed, hoping to take the Elf's mind away from unleashing his power upon the Magi present.
'Have you ever considered a career in diplomacy, Sykes? It is much like your current position, with the need to whisper the right silken words in the ear holes of those few that can provide the correct outcome.'
Sykes controlled his anger this time, refusing to be baited by the creature any longer and hoping to diffuse the situation. 'I am a soldier, sir. I will
remain a soldier, as silken words are designed for those who are apt at wielding them. Judging from the quality of your previous tale your own words have left much to be desired. I have yet to see the malevolent force that sits before me.' He couldn't believe he had taunted the creature so. It was almost as if they weren't his words, that they had been wrenched from him purposefully in order to incriminate him.
El-Vador responded accordingly, baring his teeth in something that seemed to alternate at will between snarl and smile. 'So be it, my humble diplomat. You want a tale of bloodthirsty power unleashed? I shall tell you a third tale of my travels, when I ceased wandering powerlessly through the frozen tundra of the north and finally came upon my first Orcish settlement. I would urge the scribes to ready themselves but undoubtedly they stand poised as I speak.'
As if he had given the order, the sound of parchment and quills filled the room.
'My third tale is not of Sarvacts, but of one of his minions. Blood flows thicker than both water and wine, and no skein could wash away the memory that I had forever ingrained upon him.'
For the third time of asking, El-Vador began to speak.
XXXIII
In terms of an intriguing narrative, it is troublesome attempting to construct one based on the endless white-wash of snowy peaks that the harsh north consisted of. Few readers would wish to hear of my endless lonesome trek through the barren stretches with nothing but the voice from the cave for company.
The first two volumes were of a youth being torn from his familiar surroundings and placed gradually into a life of cynicism and disconnection. Where there are no room for bonds of loyalty and trust and love between companions and everything is permeated with the cold and alien confusion of the displaced shivering his way through a series of uncontrollable situations.
I am a believer in destiny, I would have been driven to insanity long ago were I not, and this volume is the first in which I really begin to take control over matters surrounding me.
The sun burnt a faded orange as it melted across the skyline, evaporating the effects of winter's frost before slowly collapsing behind the hills that dotted the horizon. General Harg watched it crawl patiently through the cloudless evening, as unchanging in its permanence as the inevitable stack of sheets he knew he must return to.
Life was much simpler but a year before, when he was a willing subordinate in the Orcish army that invaded the north. Your orders were given and you carried them out, there were no further concerns beyond what the next meal would be and whether the pickings of the corpses would be slim.
He knew in a sense that it was a romanticized vision that he taunted himself with, now that he was trapped deep in the earth in a place he had vowed never to return to. That one false stroke and it could well be his corpse being looted and sent back to the muck from which it had been spawned. Or worse, he could have been left a cauterized cripple like many he had seen before, not dead enough to appease family honour yet not capable of enjoying what was left of an honourable discharge from the forces.
After the massacre in the north he had been forced to recover the body of his young cousin, Gurgash. The boy's first outing and he'd joined the muck, while Harg with nearly twenty more years of service under his belt had survived.
He had searched for survivors then, in an attempt to wring information out of the events surrounding the boy's death. What was usually a perfunctory exercise turned out to defy all belief, he had searched for many a mile for news from the others that had fled and had found none. As far as he knew, he was the only one to return from the north.
There had been rumours that Sarvacts had somehow made it out of the blinding explosion Harg had narrowly avoided, but they were suspect at best. They painted the Orc as a recluse who had been haunted by failure and had taken up residence in an old fortress overlooking a human village. These were not the actions of the General he once knew and little more than a fantasy that he easily dismissed.
He had been called to stand witness to the failure of Sarvacts' efforts before the great leaders in their commune and he had given them his complete report. That he knew not how the Elves had swarmed down from the north was irrelevant, it was not the place of a simple grunt to know such things. The retreat had been sounded in his mind and none left living could gain-say him. It had been assumed that the Elven armies had hit them on the counter and destroyed their forces with unforeseen numbers, that the information Sarvacts had received of the northern assault's success had been written under duress. They couldn't explain the newly-formed crater where their stronghold had once been, Harg had seen it with his own eyes when he returned for his cousin's body.
Some force had destroyed everything that had once lived in those northern reaches, and the entire area had been abandoned. The bodies lay where they fell, the frozen wasteland covering and entombing them. Harg refused to believe that there had been Elves riding to their people's rescue.
If it had not been an army then, what was it?
He kept thinking back to the murderous light blazing in the eyes of the child that Sarvacts had taken an inordinate interest in, had this subjugated people possessed powers beyond their reckoning? Why then had none of them survived?
Instead of raising questions he had kept his mouth shut, he'd taken his promotion and he'd been shipped out to the quiet front of the Orcish mounds that lay deep inside the earth. A comfortable job for a sedentary life, paper-pushing his way into retirement with all the honours of being the sole survivor. Scant consolation for the memories that remained and the questions that ate away at him to this day.
It was then that he noticed the encroaching darkness and the chill that had seeped into his bones. For all his gripes about wanting to be in the open air, he did not miss the cold nights they had spent huddled together. The deep-heated stone held some advantages in spite of its lack of freedom, and in his advancing years he was forced to admit that a warm bed was a welcome sight.
Except when had passed through the tunnels and returned to his quarters he was forced to delay his preparations for sleep.
A new guard that had been a recent appointment stood rigidly to attention and snapped off a sharp salute in the dimly-lit room, clutching papers to his chest so tightly that it seemed to Harg as if he had trapped an errant bird and feared it taking flight.
'What tidings do you bring to me at this late hour?' he asked, settling himself behind his desk but not offering the soldier a seat for disturbing him at this forsaken time.
'I bring tidings from the north, General. The attacks on our supply wagons have increased to the point that it now warrants your attention sir. All efforts at protecting the cargo have failed, we suspect a rogue group of bandits but none of our scouts can flush out their location.'
Harg sighed, and pinched his ridges of his nose between finger and thumb, briefly closing his eyes and cursing the small-minded bureaucrat who lumped this nonsense upon him. 'Double the protection surrounding the cargo and tell those scouts to keep looking.'
The orders clearly didn't appease the soldier, who still stood there awaiting dismissal. 'Sir, the scouts have informed me that there are no tracks for them to follow and that finding such an elusive target is all but impossible to them.'
Harg shrugged, wearying of this. 'Have the scouts join the escort for the travelling convoy then, overwhelm these bandits with sheer numbers. You're dismissed.'
He turned to make his way to bed and didn't bother watching the man leave him in peace. He could feel the ominous tower of papers that still remained on his desk, had this really become his greatest enemy?
Harg's mind wouldn't let him rest as he settled into bed, there was something about the attacks on the convoys that didn't sit right with him. What bandits would dare encroach so deeply into Orcish lands?
He finally slept, and all he dreamt of was the fury in the young Elven boy's eyes.
XXXIV
This is no game, and the measures I have employed are well-recognised by the desensitised minds of
today's youth. To them it is mere entertainment, a chronicle woven to pleasure them vicariously as they sit in their hovels and beg for more. This is no game, it is my life, my soul and my destiny poured out for all to imbibe.
The bow tightened, creaking slightly as he pulled the string back to his ear and sighted the target. It was enough, the elusive deer bounded off to safety at the sound and El-Vador muttered a curse under his breath.
These lands were much sparser than the frozen north, and showed signs of civilisation without his catching sight of any housing or people to corroborate his observations. That was until yesterday.
It had been his first sighting of an Orc since Sarvacts, he hadn't known how he would feel about such an encounter. Their corpses lay in stark testament to the white hot rage that had taken over him as he killed, leaving them rotting in the hot morning sun.
More importantly they had rations with which to nourish his famished body, their cargo was of little interest but clearly it indicated that an Orcish settlement was nearby.
While he may have overcome this ragged crew of merchants he was under no illusions that he couldn't simply walk his way into one of the vast burrows he had heard of and hope to live.
He had spent the evening slowly following the road from afar as it wound its way through this largely barren stretch of earth. The paltry remnants of rations and wine skins he had pilfered from the corpses had been typical Orcish fare, and only served to fuel his anger further as he recalled having to survive the harsh winter on their charity.
Later that evening a steed tore down the dusty road and was distant long before he could ready his weapon and take aim. Aside from the same rider racing back and again eluding him, he had no further encounters with any Orcs that day.
The nights were cool but no worse than any he had suffered through before, and the rise of the morning sun signalled the resumption of his following the road to the first of many Orcish burrows.
El-Vador's Travels Page 24