The Gate - An Ancient Connection

by B. N. Crandell

  “I will leave the finer details to you, Master Pilk. Just see that it is arranged. If I find the time for it, I will have a word with Grand Master Rotager myself.” King Cassien lit a candle on his desk, positioned a metal frame over the top of it and poured some wax granules into a metal spoon and placed it on top of the frame.

  “I will see to it, my lord king.”

  The king finished writing the letter, folded it and poured the melted wax onto the join. Reaching again into the drawer, he pulled out a stamp and pushed it firmly into the melted wax and waited for it to harden. Once he had sealed the letter, he slid it over the desk to him. Pilk picked up the letter and tucked it into one of his robes’ many inside pockets.

  “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some grumpy merchants to tend to. Keep me informed on how events unfold in the south.” King Cassien rose, forcing the three men to do likewise as was the custom and strode to door after a chorus of ‘my lord’. The door warden opened the door wide and bowed his head respectfully as the king reached it. An attendant came into the room immediately after to guide the three men out of the Palace.

  The Darkness Arises

  “We’ve been seen.” Major Isak came and knelt down beside Gerard.

  “By who?” asked Jeff before Gerard could ask the same question.

  “I didn’t get a good look. I just caught sight of some movement out of the corner of my eye. By the time I cast my eyes there, it was jumping in behind a rock. I’d take a punt on it being an orc scout though.”

  “We were in such a hurry to make it to this cave before the rain we would have left an easy trail to follow,” said Gerard.

  “Yeah, no kidding. Plus we left the corpses of those darn creatures out in plain view,” added Jeff.

  “The question is, were they out in search of us or was it just a coincidence?” Major Isak sat down on the cave floor and sidled into a more comfortable position.

  “And what tribe did they belong to?” Major Isak looked curiously at Gerard. “We are close enough to the Ta’zu border that it could just as easily have been a Ta’zu scout.”

  “Why would the Ta’zu be out scouting in this weather?” asked Major Isak. “You tell me that they seldom attack other tribes.”

  “It doesn’t mean they don’t keep a close eye on their borders. Perhaps the scout got caught in the rain and was heading for this very location for shelter. Jeff, you have sharp eyes, can you move closer to the entrance and keep a watch? See if he pops his head up somewhere again, but stay in the shadows yourself.”

  Jeff nodded, got to his feet and crept toward the mouth of the cave. A little while later he returned and reported that he saw the orc in the distance on top of a small cliff. He told Gerard and Major Isak that he didn’t get much of a look, but it was definitely an orc.

  “So what do we do, major?” asked Gerard.

  “Not much we can do. We can’t be carrying our wounded through this weather and even if we did, they’d soon catch us if they came after us. Best we can do is make this place a bit more defensible if we are attacked. The instant the rain stops, I want you two out of here. No use us all dying and no word returning to Duke Angus. We’ll do our best to lay false trails and cover our tracks when we move on. It’ll make the going slower, but we may just be able to avoid a fight if we’re clever.” Gerard didn’t like the idea of leaving the group behind, but he couldn’t fault the major’s logic, so he nodded along with Jeff.

  * * *

  “I guess I can be agreein’ to those terms. So long as they be takin’ no more dwarves captive. We be not at war with the Raziyan’s, but neither do I be likin’ ‘em much.” With the help of Masters’ Tayer and Pilk, Duke Angus had travelled back to Bilwarks Grove in next to no time and had just finished explaining to King Buster the terms that King Cassien was willing to agree with.

  “Well let’s go and put it to the orc general.” Duke Angus turned immediately and started walking toward the fort. Master Pilk and King Buster followed after him.

  When they arrived inside the tent they found that a third chair had been placed for Pilk.

  “I have to say, good manners for orcs,” said Pilk. While Duke Angus and King Buster sat down, Pilk buttoned up the tent door.

  They weren’t waiting too long until General Krak’too and Great Shaman O’tukka entered the tent. The orc general took a seat while the shaman buttoned up the door. Krak’too waited patiently for the shaman to be seated before he spoke.

  “So how did your chat with King Cassien go?” asked Krak’too with a smile.

  “He has given me some terms to put to you which I think you will find reasonable and perhaps even helpful,” replied Duke Angus.

  “I will determine that after you have stated them,” said Generak Krak’too rather forcefully.

  Remaining calm Duke Angus stated the king’s terms. Krak’too listened intently and without interruption. Pilk had trouble determining what the general was thinking as his face remained expressionless. Finally, after a moments silence, General Krak’too spoke.

  “I will need some time to consider these terms. How about we all return here in two hours’ time? I will have my answer then.” Duke Angus swiftly agreed and they once again walked back to the trees.

  * * *

  Sarai heard a loud commotion outside. She scanned the large room to make sure there were no guards about before heading over to the closest window. She received many warning looks from the other women in the room but she didn’t let that stop her. Soon, some of the other women joined her at the window.

  As she looked out she understood why there were few guards about inside. They were all outside gathering up slaves and chaining them all together. She moved back away from the window as one of those guards looked in her direction.

  “I think we should all get back to work,” she said to the women that had gathered around her. Sarai had a very bad feeling about this and so she hurried back to her workstation and continued working. Some of the other women remained by the window cautiously watching the commotion.

  Without warning, five orc guards came storming into the room. Upon seeing the women bunched around the window, the orc in charge pointed and demanded they all be collected at once. The other four orcs stormed over with chains and shackles and began chaining them together while the leader paced the room inspecting the other women.

  Sarai tried to ignore the screams and cries of the women, keeping her head down and diligently continued working. Occasionally the orc leader would pick out another woman and drag her over to be chained with the rest of them. Sarai concentrated hard to stop her hands from shaking, but still she felt like she was fumbling with the material continuously.

  The orc leader eventually made his way over to Sarai and stood behind her. Sarai could hear him breathing loudly and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end, but she refused to turn around and regard him. Worried that her heart was going to jump out of her chest, she kept working away at her line of stitches. She was nearing the end of the line and the orc still stood behind her, occasionally making a low growl.

  She was near in a panic knowing that soon she’d have to pick up the scissors and cut the thread and the orc would notice how badly she was shaking and decide to chain her up with the rest. Why was he standing behind her for so long? Sure enough he was still there when she had completed her stitches. Rather than reach out for her scissors she slid her hand along the table, using the firm surface to steady the motion of her hand.

  Trying to make it look as natural as possible, she grabbed hold of the scissors and slid her hand back along the table. Resting her left hand on the hard surface to keep it steady she kept the thread taught. She managed to open the scissors, position them and cut the thread all the while keeping one part of her right palm on the table. Soon after the thread was cut, the orc moved onto the next workstation. Sarai tried not to let out a loud sigh of relief in case the orc returned.

  Sometime later the chained women were escorted from the room b
y the guards. Besides the occasional sob, the room became eerily quiet.

  * * *

  “Scouts have been sent, word is being spread and sacrifices are being gathered, supreme mistress,” said General Jak’ho. “Armies will begin marching as soon as they are ready. We should have a large enough force in Chakun to begin marching toward Izlalek first thing in the morning.”

  “Excellent. All orc necromancers and necrolytes are to participate in the mass sacrifices tonight. I want them all at full strength tomorrow.” Supreme Mistress Sylestra looked up at the large orc standing rigid in front of her desk.

  “Orders have been sent to all the temples, supreme mistress. Reanimated armies will be accompanying the living. Izlalek will fall quickly,” said General Jak’ho.

  “Of that I hold little doubt,” said Sylestra rising to her feet. “Gnash, however, could be a different story.”

  “It is a long march to Gnash. They will have plenty of time to prepare and reinforce and it has strong defences. I agree it won’t be as easy, but they have never faced the full force of our armies. It will fall and I will kill Gilkan myself.” General Jak’ho spoke with a determined confidence. Sylestra rose and walked around her desk toward him seductively.

  “If you do indeed perform as you have so spoken, you will be rewarded with a week of sharing my bed, general.” She stroked his face gently with her hand and kissed his neck passionately. Her efforts were rewarded with a low growl. “Now I am sure you still have much to arrange, general, so I won’t keep you any longer. Be sure to attend the sacrifice in the Palace tonight.”

  General Jak’ho bowed his head, turned and marched from the room.

  * * *

  “Will he agree to the terms?” asked Cressida. She had collapsed in relief to hear the children were alive and reasonably well. That had changed to outbursts of anger at the children’s foolishness and then to a long moment of utter quiet. Her sudden break in silence made Decker jump.

  “We will see in due time,” replied Decker.

  “Why do you always have to do that?” Cressida slapped him across the chest as she shouted at him. Her sudden fury and subsequent physical violence had him scratching his head in confusion.

  “Do what exactly?” Decker asked slowly and deliberately.

  “It’s always ‘we will see’ or ‘time will tell’ or other such nonsense. I’m not an idiot! I know that we’ll see! What I want from you is some assurance. A simple ‘yes’ or ‘he’d be mad not to accept’ or even something like ‘the children will be fine no matter what he decides.’” Cressida’s raised voice attracted a number of looks from nearby soldiers.

  “But … But I can’t say those things with a surety. I have as much an idea about what his response will be as you do.” Decker realised once the words had left his mouth that it was somehow the wrong thing to say and so he took a quick step back avoiding the full weight of her push. He grabbed both her arms and pulled her in close to him. “I’m sorry. I know you’re worried about the kids but please don’t take it out on me.” He reached his right hand around the back of her head and brought her in for a long deep kiss. She fought against him initially, but she soon relented.

  A shuffle in the trees behind him had Decker pulling away from the kiss and turning toward the sound. Duke Angus was returning from the tent with King Buster by his side and Master Pilk trailing. Decker couldn’t read the expressions on their faces.

  “What was his reply?” asked Major Hillsworth who was a few paces away from Decker.

  “He accepted,” replied Duke Angus with a relieved smile on his face. Cressida’s arms wrapped tightly around Decker’s mid-section from behind him. He got the sense that if she wasn’t holding onto him she would have fallen to the ground again.

  “What of the children?” asked Decker.

  “The orc general is releasing them now. I’m sure they’d like to see some familiar faces as they come out of the fort,” said Duke Angus, his smile growing.

  Not needing any more incentive than that, Decker started walking hand in hand with Cressida toward the fort with Master Pilk on his other side. They waited at the edge of the trees until finally the gates opened and the children were led outside by General Krak’too himself. Cressida began to cry and pulled Decker in closer to her.

  Vik’s shoulder length, dark brown hair hung unkempt, covering half his face but his broad shoulders and confident stance that he inherited from his father were unmistakable. As he began walking, Decker could see it was taking some effort for him as he held his right arm tight by his side. A hint of a wide white bandage was exposed under his open-necked, dirty tunic.

  Trent walked beside him and was the same height as his younger friend with dishevelled, curly, sandy-coloured hair of the same length. He was much thinner than Vik and always wore a cheeky smile on his face.

  Jaz looked as dirty as the two boys with her long black hair looking almost brown it was so filthy. She was slightly taller than them with a slender frame and fine facial features like her mother’s. For once she wasn’t smiling; in fact she was looking rather haggard and forlorn.

  The children continued to walk slowly away from the fort until they passed the tent and then they began to run, Vik falling behind and jogging awkwardly. Cressida let go of Decker and started walking toward them. As they got near Cressida held her arms out wide and Jaz ran into her mother’s embrace. Decker and Master Pilk strode over to the boys and welcomed them back with a tight hug as well. Not wanting to spend too long this close to the fort, Decker encouraged them to return to the army.

  Duke Angus welcomed the kids back and told the boys that were going to be more trouble than their fathers.

  “The bravery these young laddies ‘n’ this young lassie showed canno’ be taught. Their smarts ‘n’ skills can use some improvin’ though,” said King Buster receiving a roar of laughter from all around him.

  “Well, let’s go home. There’ll be no fight here today,” yelled out Duke Angus which was rewarded with a loud cheer — at least from the humans in the army.

  * * *

  “How are we going to break the news to the fort, general?” asked O’tukka.

  “Slowly … Very slowly. We need to gather the most trusted together first and let them know. For the majority we can mislead for a time.” General Krak’too was pacing behind his desk with his arms folded behind his back.

  “They will want to know why the army left without a fight,” said O’tukka standing as still as a statue watching the pacing general.

  “We tell them that we made a deal with the humans not to attack them or the dwarves but to attack their enemies the Raziyans and they would not trouble us. It’s partly true. We organise an attack on Heperi and bring in some more captives to keep the fierce one happy, while we let it seep through the fort that the fierce one is simply letting the captives free amongst our enemies. Every orc here will soon begin to resent that and be more willing to listen to an alternate plan.” Krak’too stopped pacing and looked at O’tukka, obviously trying to gauge his reaction. O’tukka gave him a small nod of assurance.

  “It could take some time, but it may very well work.”

  A knock came at the door and after being bid to enter by General Krak’too, the messenger came in and handed him a letter. After sitting down to read it, a crooked smile found its way to the general’s face.

  “Well it’s about to get more challenging, but with possibly greater rewards. The fierce one has given me leave to commission another five hundred warriors after the crushing blow we gave to the Red Axe at Qunik.” Krak’too dismissed the messenger with a look.

  “Those five hundred will take the most to convince, since they haven’t seen the difficulties we have faced here so far,” said O’tukka once the messenger had left. He walked over to the desk, took the letter from General Krak’too’s outstretched hand and read the note himself.

  “That’s true. But if we can convince them, get all their families to join us and pull this plan off, we
’ll have the beginnings of a strong new tribe.” O’tukka couldn’t argue with that, but he realised there was a fine line between success and failure.

  * * *

  “Who be you that ‘r’ cavortin’ with orcs?” asked the dwarven patrol leader.

  “My name is Sylestra — Supreme Mistress Sylestra to you now.” Sylestra approached the iron bars of the jail cell containing the twenty dwarves.

  “Supreme mistress? Huh, not on ya life.” The dwarf stood firm with his arms crossed — a hateful look in his eyes.

  “That attitude will change in time. I think you will find me a very fair and reasonable ruler. Unlike that ruling orc Gilkan of the Black Skull tribe who would have simply used you as fodder, I intend to look after you well.” Sylestra gripped the iron bars with both her hands and looked around the cell at her catch.

  “Ya lock us up in a cell ‘n’ be sayin’ ya lookin’ after us? A jug o’ ya finest mead for each o’ us would be lookin’ after us,” replied the burly dwarf with his arms folded across his chest.

  “I’ll have some sent to you right away, my stout dwarf.” Sylestra smiled at the shocked expression on the dwarf’s face. “Now what is your name so I can address you rightly?”

  “Ahhh … I’m Thirak,” stammered the dwarf, “Thirak Bomstotter.”

  “Well Thirak, I apologise for your uncomfortable lodgings at present. You will be moved soon I assure you, but even that will be temporary while we prepare the mountains for you.” She kept her voice pleasant and once again noticed a surprised look from a few of the dwarves when she mentioned mountains.

  “Which mountains be they?” asked Thirak

  “Mountains that will be unfamiliar to you called Bur’dyna Ver’ler, or in your tongue Eastern Guardians. You will find them rich with all kinds of metals and gems. You will be the beginning of a new dwarven clan.” Sylestra addressed her comments to all in the cell.