by Rosie Scott
I hesitated. His question had meaning behind it, like he'd just been waiting to ask it of me. I wondered why that was. “No. Jakan never specified. Given the populace of Nahara, I guess I just assumed he'd be human.”
Theron nodded. “Aye. Me too. Orcs like the forests and mountains. Can't imagine why one ended up in Nahara.”
I took note of his distant wording. “Does it bother you?” I asked him, before clarifying, “That he is an orc?”
Theron didn't answer me for a few moments, and my heart began to sink. It seemed the ranger was none too happy about my wish to free Anto, and for an entirely different reason than the rest. “Kai, before I met you, I lived my whole life as a mercenary, and ninety percent of that time was spent in Chairel. The majority of the problems the people and cities there have are from greenskins.”
I nodded, waiting as he paused for our ales to be served. When the waiter hurried away, the ranger continued. “I have never—not once—come across an orc who was tame, and wanted to live like a human. There was a time...” Theron trailed off, his eyes lost in the swirling gold of his ale. “There was a time I met an orc who I thought might have some humanity, and I put my trust in him for something important.” He pulled his ale toward the side of the table, before he lifted it to take a swig. “He failed me, committed atrocities against me, and I was never able to kill him, because he knew I was after him and kept on the run. I promised myself never to trust an orc again, because they are, by their very nature, filthy and despicable creatures who wish for nothing but war and bloodshed.”
“As are the Alderi,” I commented, evenly. My words gave Theron pause, for he knew that not only was Nyx more trustworthy than the majority of her people, but she also actively despised them.
“You are trying to make a case against racism, Kai, but I plead a case based from experience. All of us—you, me, Anto, every person on this planet—are, at some point, the mix of two halves. We may parade around during our lives claiming we are beholden to no one, but the truth is, at least a small part of ourselves are born from our backgrounds. Our mothers and fathers, our family trees. You proved that yourself, today. You have both the humility of humans and the arrogance of the gods, because you are a product of two natures. Nyx has escaped the underground and become her own woman, yes, but she is still clearly Alderi, for she is merciless with her blades, has a stomach seemingly made of steel, and has the sex drive of ten adolescent human males.”
I listened to Theron plead his case, and I agreed with him, to a point. “You have to realize, Theron...Nyx is not a half-breed. She is full Alderi, so both these halves you speak of should count against her, but she is here with us. Anto is not fully orc.”
Theron tilted his head. “He is not?”
“No. I think he is a half-breed, as well. I was close enough to him today to see his eyes were brown. If he were fully orc, they would be red or black.”
Theron nodded slowly, before taking another sip of ale. “That is true.”
“And, like Nyx, Anto is far away from home, as you admitted. Perhaps like Nyx escaped the underground, he may have escaped his own tribe.” I paused. “Whatever his story, Jakan told us they had been together for over a decade. If Anto was at all a warmonger like the others, Jakan would have discovered it by now.”
“I will concede to that point, Kai, but the fact remains that orcs all, by their very nature, possess a power even they cannot fully control.”
“Their strength,” I said, preparing another argument.
“No—their rage. Us mercenaries would always refer to it as them going berserk, because that's what it is. Something in orcs just snaps, Kai. I have seen orcs do even crazier things than normal during a berserker rage, and half the time, they don't even know they're doing it, because they aren't of right mind.”
“I don't understand how their rage is any different from anyone else's,” I commented.
“It is immensely powerful and can change the tide of battle,” the ranger replied, matter-of-factly. “The rage is induced by different things—the constant beating of war drums, the smell of blood, the image of seeing comrades being slaughtered. And once it snaps, the orc is unstoppable until they either run out of energy or die. The rage is somewhat similar to what I've seen you go through with your leeching—it is like a high that makes you better at what you do, stronger, faster, more alert—and it mutes pain received, allowing the mind to control the body and slow itself from bleeding out as quickly. It is like getting a boost in offense and defense, all at once, and simply because the orc snaps.” Theron hesitated a moment. “Can you imagine what would happen if something were to ever befall Jakan?”
I understood his concern. “Like you said, Theron, their power is similar to my own when it comes to leeching, and I am slowly learning to control it. It can be controlled, and if anyone has learned how, it is Anto.”
“You do not know him yet,” Theron warned.
“Neither do you,” I replied, just as evenly.
The ranger sighed, before taking another swig of his ale. “You're right, Kai. I do not know him. I know you. And I know it would be a shame for you to lose your life over a man who does not deserve the sacrifice.”
“That's why I won't lose my life,” I said.
“Are you truly so confident?” Theron asked, staring directly into my eyes. “You seem to have walked into this situation with barely a bat of an eye, like you already know its outcome.”
“Truly?” I laughed, dryly. “No. I could die. I know all too well I am a half-breed. But I do believe I can gain the advantage over him. I have methods of counter-acting his strengths.”
“This god can regenerate,” the ranger pointed out, using my own previous words.
“Yes. And technically, so can I.”
Theron nodded, impressed with me. “You are already thinking through tactics?”
“Of course, Theron. It's how my mind works.” I took a moment to take a sip of my own ale. It had both spice and honey, which was pretty unique to the desert. It was a satisfying mix of flavors as it slipped down my throat. “And I need this week to practice learning new spells. There are some within that spell book Cerin and I bought from the book store back in Comercio which will help wonders.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes—dual wielding spells capable of utilizing death as one of its elements, the likes of which I've never seen before. I will learn them by next week's battle,” I promised, though it was more of a reminder to myself.
“Do you think utilizing death in front of a crowd here is a good idea?” the ranger asked.
“We are already going to petition King Adar for a field battle. I might as well ask him myself,” I commented. “But if I cannot utilize death magic here, I may as well cancel my attendance at the fight. If I cannot use leech, this battle will belong to Gavriel.”
Theron nodded, following my line of thinking. We were silent for the next few minutes as our food was served, and as we took the first few bites, satisfying our neglected stomachs.
“Now, friend...” I began, after swallowing a bit of roasted lizard, “Tell me of the time you put trust in an orc.”
Theron smiled distantly, in the midst of cutting through a hunk of meat on his plate. “I should have known you would come back to that. It is quite the personal story, if I'm honest.”
“We are friends,” I replied.
“Yes...but you have such pressing matters on your own mind. Don't let me drag you down with tales which have long passed.” Theron took another bite of his food.
“They have not passed, for it still affects you. Does it have to do with why you rejected Nyx?”
Theron coughed around his food, my words having taken him by surprise. “She told you that?” He asked, the brown eyes which flicked to mine somewhat embarrassed.
“Of course she did. She took a liking to you back in Sera. I am the only reason she has put it off for so long,” I explained.
“Fucking hell,” Theron cursed,
before taking another swig of his ale. The glass which held it was nearly empty now, and an extra spark lit up the ranger's eyes. “I will tell you the story, but I don't want it thrown around to prying ears needlessly. There is a reason I have kept it as a secret for so long.”
There was pain behind that. “Very well,” I agreed.
“I told you of my upbringing. Growing up in the village of French, before it was ransacked by the orcs. I was sixteen when I went back to kill them all, but I was not alone. I had fled French for Dagmar as a lad, because it was closer to French than Sera, and had been trained by a man who pitied me. This man became like a father to me. He had a daughter. I fancied her.” Theron finished off his ale with a few gulps, before letting the glass hit the table, and waving to the waiter to bring him more. “Her name was Isa.”
“She was the one who helped you kill them,” I deduced.
“Aye. She was strong-willed, and courageous. It somehow let her get past the fact she couldn't grow muscle for the life of her. Despite her father's attempts to stop her, she joined me. We killed each and every one of them, and when I pissed on that shrine to Malgor, as I told you, she laughed. She made a comment about how she would love to do the same, but she could not squat on the shrine. She was as crude and as blunt as I, and I fell fiercely in love with her. After each orc was dead, we had sex for the first time, right there, in the midst of it all.”
My eyebrows raised. “What a place for it,” I commented.
“Yes, well...that was what our relationship ended up being like. Rough and sexual and filled with death.” Theron nodded toward the waiter who brought him a second ale, before he immediately took a drink, and then continued. “We went on like that, for awhile. Became mercenaries and took jobs from Sera. Her father died from illness when she was twenty-one and I was twenty.”
“Was she human?” I asked him, because he hadn't yet specified.
“Aye.” Theron took another drink. I wondered if I should slow him down, for the buzz in his eyes was noticeable now. “Isa had a problem with letting things go. She was not one to grin and bear things. She had a special hatred for orcs which mirrored mine, and it got us into trouble quite a few times. She was strong, and she had never failed, so she thought she could keep it up forever. You remind me of her, a lot.” His eyes found mine, and stuck, keeping me in their unceasing stare. “I told you today you are stubborn, and that I worried you may find yourself in a prickly situation. I told you that, because I did not voice my concerns to Isa, and her stubbornness got her killed.”
I found I could not reply. I understood his concerns, and now, knowing they came from such a personal place made me sad for him. It was clear this knowledge was a burden to him.
“She found out the location of this orc camp which was nestled deep in the Seran Peaks, near the coast of the Servis. She wanted to go wipe them out, as usual. We had no contract. We just went.” Theron grabbed his glass, though he paused, and thought twice about drinking again. His eyes remained on the table, looking at the rest of his food. “It was damn cold in those mountains, and the camp was on the mountainside. I remember having a bad feeling about it, but as a young man, I hadn't yet learned to trust my gut.
“We went about the camp as we always did. Sneaking in, taking out as many orcs as we could before things got out of hand, and then taking out the rest through brutal melee. But this time, it was far larger than we anticipated. The camp was connected via a tunnel through the mountain to another camp, where they were reinforced.”
“They killed her?” I asked, softly.
“No. Not right away. Worse.” Theron pushed aside his hesitance and finally took that next drink of alcohol. “Isa was a beautiful woman. Orcish women are as ugly as the men, so they are known for being brutal rapists of other races. They did what they did best.”
I was silent for a moment. “Where were you?”
“They had me tied to this post, and they had her tied to another. She had to stand, I was kneeling. Both of us were fully naked, in that fucking cold. Our bodies became numb and frostbitten. They took delight in torturing her, for she started off spitting in their faces and yelling obscenities. I watched over the course of the day as they broke her spirit, and I could do nothing.”
“I'm sorry,” I murmured, because I could think of nothing else. If it weren't for Theron drinking away his hesitance, I wasn't sure I would have ever heard this story at all. My heart went out to the ranger. Carrying this burden alone had to be a torture all its own.
“I begged, and pleaded, and bartered, and cried,” he went on, as if he hadn't heard me. “One of the orcs came to me that first night, and told me he would help us escape. He promised that not all orcs were as ruthless as his brothers. I decided to trust him, and we made plans for escape. I knew Isa's body could not take more trauma and cold, and she would soon die. It was my only chance, because I couldn't break free of my bonds. I had tried all day.
“So the time came, and the orc went to free Isa. Then, he snapped. Perhaps it was the blood he smelled on her, or perhaps he never meant to help at all. He went berserk and raped her, like all the others, after promising me we were free. I could do nothing but watch, and scream, and cry.
“By morning, Isa was dead from a mixture of physical trauma and the bitter cold, and I didn't even get to say goodbye. She had fallen unconscious from weakness the night before, and we had spent the night in silence. And then, a few hours into morning, came the biggest slap in the face I could have imagined.” Theron paused from his rambles, and laughed humorlessly. “A whole group of mercenaries raided the camp at first light, and what few orcs they didn't kill ran to regroup elsewhere in the mountains. Isa had died mere hours before rescue.”
“Was the orc who betrayed you dead?” I questioned.
“No. I looked all through that damned camp for him, kicking over bodies and chopping off limbs of corpses in a fury. I did not find him, but I promised myself I would.” Theron leaned forward over the table, letting his head rest on a hand. “I spent the rest of my life as a mercenary, taking on jobs killing orcs to find him. I never did. I couldn't even do that.”
“Perhaps he died,” I offered. “Someone came across him and killed him somewhere else, maybe.”
“I've often thought the same, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, because I didn't kill him.” Theron exhaled heavily, his eyes still hidden behind his hand. “I never wanted to revisit this again. You're right, Kai, it still affects me. I am still in love with that woman, even though I failed her twenty years ago. I have thought more about her this past year and a half because you remind me of her. I foolishly failed to voice my concerns to her, and it got her killed. I have voiced my concerns to you, in the hopes I may prevent another tragedy.”
“Theron...” I reached out, letting my hand fall over his. “First of all, thank you for sharing your story with me. I hope I can share in that burden with you, so it doesn't weigh on you so heavily.”
“It's not your burden to share,” he replied.
“Yes, it is, because we are friends.” When he said nothing, I went on, “I am so, so sorry that you and Isa went through what you did, and I am sorry you lost her. Do not blame yourself for the things you could not physically do. You told me, earlier, that there are some battles I cannot fight alone. The same is true for you. The fact remains that you tried everything you could. Sometimes one person's strength isn't enough, and it is no fault of theirs.”
“Aye,” Theron agreed, his voice thick and groggy with drink. “I am glad you said it, Kai, for now, I have no need to preach.”
I swallowed hard, realizing I'd just backed myself verbally into a corner. “You knew this, and still you tried,” I reasoned. “And this is what I must do.”
Thirteen
Theron and I headed back to the Oasis after our dinner, and I felt as if we had grown even closer throughout our talks of both pasts and present. Nyx was no longer at the bar, so I figured she was in our room. Theron headed to his own roo
m, looking as if he was ready to crash into bed. I looked after him, making sure the drink didn't inhibit his ability to make it to his destination, and then headed into my own room.
Nyx wasn't there. As usual, I didn't fret too much over this, figuring perhaps she had gone off to find a different tavern, or even a brothel. I put a pot of water over our small contained fire to let it start to boil for my bath, and proceeded to strip off my armor. As soon as the air hit my skin, the small breeze coming through the windows picked up some of my body heat and carried it away, which was a relief.
I was nearly finished with my bath when a knock came at the door.
“Kai,” came Cerin's voice, a plea. My heart skipped a beat. I wasn't sure I would ever tire of hearing him say my name.
“Hold on,” I called back, hurrying out of my bath, and quickly pulling on fresh underclothes. With my freshly washed hair dripping to the floor from strands which were even darker red with their moisture, I pulled open the door.
Cerin stood just outside, his eyes catching on my hair, though they were troubled. He was still in his cloak and armor, only the silver buckles adorning them visible from the shadows cast over him in the dark hallway. His pale face was only partially visible from beneath his hood, shadows filling in the intricacies of his sharply structured bones. His silver eyes were regretful, and hurt, and torn, and at the same time, betrayed his intense attraction to me.
“I didn't mean to disturb you,” he offered, his eyes taking in my casual clothing, and the bathtub still full of water.
“I thought you said we were past that,” I replied, backing away to let the door remain open. “Come in.”
Cerin swallowed hard and walked past me into my room. As I closed the door and locked it behind us, he said, “I did not mean to run. Well...I mean, I did. I made that decision, I guess. I just...” he trailed off, as I turned toward him. “I cannot let you do this. You are loyal to your friends, but this is ridiculous. You cannot die.” He hesitated, his voice lowering in tone. “I will not let you.”