Twisted Fate (Orc Destiny Volume I) (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga)

by Laszlo, Jeremy

  Gnak gnashed his teeth, his jaw clenched to keep from cursing. Again Korx had thwarted him. It made sense, if considering both Catunga and Orc tradition, if two were awake, one could not kill the one that was sleeping as the other would see it as a cowardly action. Eliminating their rivals had to be done in a proud way. This prevented any of them from killing each other in this instance, as no two among them would work as allies. Or would they? Korx and Burl had been together. Had they met in the pass by chance as he had come to join them? The question made him even more paranoid. Not that it mattered. Now that he would never be alone with Jen, he had no chance of setting her free.

  Settling down upon the ground he peered off into the distance, his anger raging within him. There had to be a way to fix it. There had to be a way to set her free. The only way he could see to do it was to kill Korx and then Burl. But without the ability to kill both of them at the same time, there was no way of knowing how things would turn out. If one was attacked, the other might kill Jen if they suspected something. Again he was forced to wait, hoping for an opportunity to arise.

  Just after midday, Korx kicked the snoring Burl and the two exchanged places. Even so, every time anything moved Korx’s eyes popped open, looking around suspiciously. Gnak knew his opportunity would not come this day. At least Jen appeared to get some rest. Hour after hour the day passed and without the opportunity he sought, he rose as night began to fall and woke Jen, allowing her to round the tree to relieve herself before giving her yet another meal. He ate a scrap of the meat himself and, taking up his bags when she was finished, he untied her from the tree as his fellows gathered their sacrifices as well.

  The entire night went exactly as Gnak expected. They walked all through the night without so much as a single spoken word. They eyed each other suspiciously, none trusting the others, the whole situation filled with unbelievable tension. It was late in the night that Gnak realized that this night was the whole of his life. Every day was like this. Orcs lived trusting no one. Sure, they had clans, that were more for security from outsiders than anything else, but their society was so skewed that there was no real joy in it.

  It was a strange realization. He knew that pride and honor were good qualities. But it was now that he finally realized that Orcs dwelt on them so much that they had twisted them into traits that made their lives pointless. There was more to life than honor and pride. It had taken a small human girl to show him this. A small human girl who was relying upon him to get her home. The same girl who walked before him, seemingly with no fear for herself. Could she have that much faith in him already?

  That thought alone gave him more pride than any other achievement in his life. The fact that she trusted him, even with her own life, when she walked towards death with her head held high. Humans were not dumb. Nor were they weak. They had discovered a life that was better than the lives of Orcs. He owed Jen more than her life and a bag full of wealth. He owed her more than his own life. There was nothing he could give the girl that would repay what she had given him. He hoped one day he would be worthy of the trust she put in him now.

  With the coming of morning Gnak repeated his routine of the previous day, preparing Jen her food and drink after lashing her to a tree. But this day, it was his turn first to rest. Laying upon the ground, refusing to remove his armor, he turned to face Jen. He watched as she laid down too, giving him one quick grin before she curled up in a ball and closed her eyes. His eyes never closed. He did not dare go to sleep. If he did they would kill her, or him, or both. Of that he was certain. Instead, he kept one blade out of his belt and in his hand as he lay there for half of the day just watching her sleep, the girl who had opened his eyes to reality.

  When midday did come, it was again time for Korx to rest. Today the Orc seemed more his normal prideful and cocky self. He was mentally preparing himself for Catunga, Gnak could tell. Korx moved in a way filled with pride in himself. His every action said he was not afraid. He even laid down and went to sleep, showing those with him that he was not afraid of them. Not that it mattered. Gnak could not kill Burl without waking the slumbering Orc, nor could he free Jen without killing Burl. Still an impossible situation.

  It was only an hour or two before nightfall when Burl rose, and thrusting his head towards the trees behind them, he motioned to say he was going to relieve himself. It was the only opportunity they would get. Waiting for Burl to disappear from sight, he quickly and quietly untied Jen and shook her awake.

  “You go now. Run. Hide. I find you.”

  She nodded to him, a determined look on her tiny face, before she darted off into the trees back the way they had come the previous night. He watched her go until she too vanished, and began to prepare the scene by hiding her retreating tracks with tracks of his own. Taking his blade to his forehead he sliced it several times in a crisscrossing pattern, letting the blood pour down his face. Cuts upon the head always bled out of proportion to the wound. Then, picking up a large rock, he pressed it into the newly formed wound, coating one side with blood. Setting it upon the ground a few feet away, he laid down, closing his eyes, and waited.

  More than a quarter hour passed, and Gnak thanked the heavens for every passing second, but as he knew they would, his passing seconds ran out. Returning to camp, Burl sounded the alarm with a yell, stirring Korx who arose to inspect the scene. Taking a sharp kick to the back, Gnak feigned stirring groggily, grasping at his head with squinty eyes as he rose.

  “Where tiny human?” Korx demanded.

  “Not know,” Gnak replied, looking this way and that, continuing his role.

  “How human go?” Korx demanded again, as Burl simply stood watching the exchange.

  “Not know,” Gnak repeated, then decided his answer was not enough. He needed to buy more time. “Used magic, throw rock,” he added.

  They both stared at him a long moment before Korx took action, bending low where the girl had been. He peered all over the ground, his head snapping back up, his face only inches away from Gnak’s.

  “No trail. Tracks gone. Magic too?” Korx questioned, his tone seething.

  “Tracks gone. Human gone. Need new sacrifice,” Gnak replied.

  Korx wasn’t buying it and Gnak knew it. He watched as his rival walked around their little camp, eyeing the ground, searching for a clue. It was only a matter of time before he found her fleeing tracks. Instead of giving him a chance, Gnak had another plan. He followed Korx’s lead and made a show of looking for tracks himself. He was sure to beat Korx back to the trail, and when he did he pointed to the ground and turned to his peers.

  “Human no go easy. I go get. Bring back. You go camp.”

  Without waiting for a reply he grabbed the pair of bags and his helmet, and ran from the camp, leaning low as if to watch the trail. Gnak sprinted ahead, knowing that Jen would not be far. She was so small that even sprinting she might have gone two or three miles in the time since she left. Even so, he watched as her trail passed beneath him, in case she veered off the course they had taken the previous night. One mile and then two passed beneath his feet and still he ran on. Their plan had worked, she was free, and he was free to take her home.

  Knowing he had to be right on her tail he veered around a hill, his eyes on the ground as a blood-curdling scream caused his head to jerk up. Not fifty yards ahead stood Korx, holding the screaming form of Jen by the hair in one hand, his blackened iron blade pressed to her throat.

  “Look, find me!” Korx shouted as Gnak grew nearer.

  “Give her,” Gnak demanded.

  “Is mine. Is sacrifice,” Korx replied.

  Gnak watched as Jen struggled, her screams tearing at him as she grasped for her attacker’s hand, trying to take the weight off of her hair. Tears streamed from her eyes, and there was nothing he could do. If he moved to attack she would be dead in an instant.

  “You have troll. Troll is sacrifice.”

  “Troll dead. This one better.”

  That was it, there was nothing
he could do. Both he and Korx had gambled and Korx had won. If he let Korx win, at least Jen would survive a few more days. Those days might give him a chance to free her. But he could not return home without a sacrifice. To make it to the end of Catunga, Korx would have to prove Jen’s magic, but Gnak knew he could torture it out of her, proving her worth. In order to be his equal at the end of the ceremony he would have to bring an equal sacrifice. His options were limited. Watch Jen die now, or delay and hope for a chance to save her in the days to come. He would not let her die.

  With shoulders sagging, he looked into Korx’s eyes for a long time showing the other that he would not be dealt with so easily. Then, without a word, he turned and stalked off to the south. He needed a plan.

  CHAPTER NINE

  That entire night after losing Jen had passed without a moment of rational thought. So angered with Korx and himself was Gnak, that he stomped a path deep into desert, wading through mile after mile of sand without mind of where he was going. He hated who he had been, he hated who Korx was, he hated that his people were so caught up in their ways to see what they were missing in the world.

  On and on he stomped, mile after mile through the sand over dune after dune, flies and fleas biting at his flesh as his anger and pain enveloped him in a mind-numbing fog. He would have likely stormed on forever, had it not been for the obvious sign that he had wandered somewhere that perhaps he should not have.

  Before him, atop the dune he climbed, a pole was thrust deep into the sand. Atop the pole was the eyeless head of an Orc. The face was rotting, and had been in the sun for days so he did not recognize it, but assumed that it had been another, like he, that faced Catunga. Climbing the rest of the way to the summit, he peered beyond and found the reason for the head.

  Just beyond the dune was a small oasis. Surrounding the oasis was a makeshift wall, and all around were small buildings made of whatever materials the owners had managed to scavenge to build them. The sounds of screams and laughter, the clank of a hammer on iron and more issued from beyond the walls, and Gnak knew he had found a goblin city.

  Where there was a city, there was a king. Where there was a king there was a way to the final ceremony of Catunga, but thinking ahead, Gnak saw another opportunity.

  Striding down the side of the dune he grew nearer and nearer the city, and watched as dozens of armed and armored goblins of various shade and size poured out from its gates. They waited for him to near, wanting him to come closer. But he knew goblin tricks. They had weapons that threw tiny spears, and he would not be foolish enough to come within range. Instead, when he knew they would hear him clearly, he dropped both of his weapons and shouted across the distance.

  “Bring me king. We talk. If he want kill after, he kill. I no fight.”

  Dozens of goblin heads turned this way and that, their mouths parting as sounds issued, but from here he could make no sense of any of it. Minutes passed and eventually a pair of the goblins retreated inside as the rest simply stood watching him, talking amongst themselves. A quarter hour later and an oddity issued out from the goblin city. A strange cart with spiked wheels pulled by two sand boars rolled into sight, a goblin wearing a crown guiding it from the city. The king was dressed in odd fabrics in more bright colors than Gnak had ever seen before. His fingers glittered with jewelry, and even the cart he rode was decorated with that which goblins considered wealth. The soldiers surrounded their strange little king and as a unit they moved towards him. He had never seen such precision from goblins before.

  Before they got too close the procession stopped, and Gnak took that as his cue. Removing the pack from his back, he undid the buckles that held the flap on top secure. Reaching in, he pulled forth a fistful of the small pouches within it and threw them over the heads of the soldiers to the king’s feet.

  “Hear me, king. I come, no fight. I buy you help. I pay you this,” he thrust out the entire pack. “And talk you where get much, much more.”

  He watched as the king looked down to one of his soldiers who pulled open the strings on several bags and emptied their contents into the sand. Several oohs and aahs followed. Then Gnak continued.

  “You hear me. We talk. You no like, I go or you kill. No matter. You like, you help. I talk you where get more.”

  Again he raised the bag as he concluded, showing his meaning. The goblin king stared at him for a long moment, his fingers drumming on the rail of his cart, each of them sparkling in the sun.

  “You come, orcsie. We talk,” the king replied, and with a pull on his reins he turned and left with half of the soldiers. The other half approached warily, surrounding him. His weapons were collected, though not returned, and he was led into the goblin city. The city gate, made of both iron and wood, slammed closed behind him. He doubted any living Orc had ever seen past its walls. But that was not what was important.

  The trip through the city made him feel uneasy. Everywhere goblins bounded around to look at him and poke at him. They clung from poles and stood in shops in what seemed some sort of trade area. Items were exchanged here and there, and he watched as he walked, guided through the city. Goblin women paraded their scantily covered bodies through the streets, the men giving them the metal disks before disappearing behind the closed doors of the buildings. Goblin children ran to and fro with no thoughts of pride or honor, simply doing what they wished. Meat hung from racks, and great casks of drink were stacked under canopies, as somewhere in the distance an odd tune was played that carried through the streets.

  Taking in as much as he could, he admired the goblins. They seemed to be a happy race, though he had killed dozens in the past. Probably more. Everywhere items were being sold or created, and in one tented hut he even saw something he recognized. Hanging from a rack were tiny jointed men carved from either wood or bone, he couldn’t tell. One of them was an Orc with dark skin and proud features. From its joints small strings were attached and at the other end a pair of handles kept the strings from becoming tangled. Within the shop a goblin made a pair of the small carved men fight with swords as a gathering of goblin children cheered. Gnak grinned wickedly.

  Though it was obvious they paraded him around to show him off, eventually they arrived at what he presumed to be the home of the king. It was a tall building that appeared to have been built with more thought than most within the city. Its walls were made of some sort of square-ish stones, all the same earthy red tone, and they appeared to be held in place with a mud like substance that had seeped from between them in some places before drying.

  Opening a great door upon the building, the guards parted and allowed Gnak entry. Even here he realized he was not going to be alone with the king. As he entered, near half a hundred of the small spear-throwing weapons were pointed at him from every available place along all four walls. At the center of the room sat the king in a tall chair covered in cushions and carvings. Before the king sat a table large enough that Gnak could not reach him across it. Beyond that was a stool for him to sit upon.

  Without a word the goblin king beckoned towards the stool, and Gnak took a seat, tossing the bag of metal disks and stones onto the table as the door to the street outside closed. Still every weapon pointed at him.

  “Tell me orcsie, what is it that you wish to purchase?” the gaudy king asked, staring at him intently.

  “I want catch giant,” Gnat replied to a room filled with the sound of many suddenly taken breaths.

  “A giant….” The Goblin king leaned forward and rested upon his elbows, his hands facing one another. Matching up his hands, finger to finger, he drummed them upon one another over and over as he pondered.

  “I suppose you want it alive?” the king questioned further.

  “Alive, yes.”

  “A big giant?”

  “Big, yes.”

  “A big sand giant or a big mountain giant?” the king asked, his fingers drumming still upon each other. It was obvious the goblins were smarter than he thought.

  “”Big sand. More
easy.”

  “So the orcsie wants me to catch him a big sand giant…”

  Again the king of the goblin city was quiet, his fingers drumming a steady rhythm as his head rocked side to side. He was calculating, though what he was calculating Gnak could not be certain. Perhaps he was weighing risk against reward. Maybe he was thinking of ways to capture a giant. All that mattered to Gnak was that the king was thinking about it and he was not yet dead.

  “What will you do with the giant?” the king then asked, his eyes snapping back to Gnak.

  “I go home. Take giant. Kill giant.”

  “Hmm…” The king pondered. “You want me to catch a giant and find a way for you to takes it home? How much more gold and silver and gems do you have?”

  Gnak put the meaning together and looked the king dead in his beady eyes.

  “More. Much more. Much, much more.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?” the calculating goblin replied.

  “I come you, no fight. I trust you, no weapons. I offer you help me or kill me, no matter. I give you trust, you not kill. You give me trust, I give gold,” Gnak replied, repeating the word he now associated with goblin wealth.”

  “I’m assuming you have an idea how you want this done?” the goblin king said with a wicked smile.”

  “I have idea.”

  “And how long do we have to do this?”

  “Ten days. No more.”

  Gnak watched as the king turned his gaze past him to one of the goblins along the wall.

  “Toktok, gather the troops and lots of rope. Have the boars saddled and ready to ride in an hour.”

  “Yes, king,” an answer issued from behind Gnak.

  It was the confirmation he needed. The king was taking his offer.

  “OK, men, put down your weapons,” the king began. “Now, orcsie, let’s hear that idea.”

  It took the remainder of the day and part of the night for Gnak and the goblin king to work out the details of what he wanted in exchange for the location of the gold. The king issued order after order, calling for tradesmen from his city and hammering out the details of their plan. Before night had fallen a goblin party departed the city in search of a suitable giant. They still had not returned, although the king assured him that they knew the location of multiple giant lairs. As the night progressed, Gnak was relieved of his armor as it was collected to be repaired and modified as needed. By the middle of the night the agreement was struck and Gnak, feeling familiar with the goblin after hours of speaking, was freed from the room to wander the city as he wished. A decree was given to the people that he was guest to the king, and should not be harmed. All was left for Gnak to do was wander and wait to see just what the goblins produced. So that is what he did.