by Justin Wayne
Chapter Two: Going South
Hay was still stuck in Thomulus’ hair when he was strapped onto the back of Outsider’s horse. His hands were tied behind his back and his middle lashed onto the saddle just like the bags, in case he should fall.
“Comfortable back there, Thom?” Outsider asked as he walked the gelding to the gate of the stables.
Thomulus rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, it’s just fantastic back here! I get a free ride on a horse, the offer of free shelter and food for a number of years, oh, and let’s not forget the joy of being tossed off a roof into a bale of hay.” He spat off the side of the horse. “Best day of my life.”
Outsider smiled beneath his hood and mounted. “Well, I’m glad. Ol’ Jiff here has been aching for some company.” he said scratching the gray horse between the ears. Jiff knickered in pleasure and began his trot as his rider’s heels pressed in his sides lightly. “You two play nice now.”
They turned for the main gate to leave the bustling town of Rusk.
“Hey, wait a minute! Aren’t you going to return that dagger I stole?”
Outsider turned around in his saddle and stared from the darkness of his cloak into his prisoner’s eyes. “Now why would I want to go and do something like that?”
“Because it’s stolen! And you’re supposed to return it! That’s the right thing to do, eh?” In actuality, Thom just wanted to bide time to escape before getting too close to those who knew of him and his actions. Not to mention the thought of his captor getting such a fine blade from him made bile rise in his throat.
“See, now, right there is your problem. I’m no guard nor have I sworn any oaths. I take what I can by my own means. I haven’t stolen anything. You have. I merely confiscated it from a criminal and in the rush of apprehending you, out of the goodness of my heart mind you, forgot to return it to the shop owner, which I would’ve had to neglect protecting the helpless and the innocent just to identify. So by not returning this fine blade, I did a service to the good people of Rusk and made the town a more wholesome and safe place for all to live and raise their children without fear.” He looked up to the town behind them and did a small dip of his head. “No thanks are necessary. You are welcome.” He turned back in the saddle without a word and suppressed a chuckle at the incredulous look Thom was unable to repress from his face.
After that, the ride was a long quiet one in which Outsider took shifts from riding to walking in two hour intervals as to avoid tiring Jiff. With this plan, they were able to ride well into the night until the east began to turn purple with the morning sun just beyond the horizon. Outsider slid from the saddle, loosened the girth strap on Jiff and rubbed him down with a reward of an apple before letting a drowsy Thom down.
“What time is it?” he croaked. Outsider pulled his head back and poured a mouthful of water down his throat. Thom nodded his thanks and wiped his chin on his shoulder as his hands were still bound.
“Almost seven. The sun has nearly risen.”
Thom blinked a few times and looked back the way they had come. Nothing but mountains and the hilly plains of the wild north stared back at him. They had come farther than he had anticipated in such a short amount of time.
I’ve got to get away from him. A chill wind blew past and he shivered. And away from here.
“How’d you manage to ride through the night? Most would never risk breaking a horse’s ankle or coming upon something.” he asked as he stretched out his stubby legs.
Outsider shrugged as he prepared their camp by laying out bedrolls and placing a tarp of rough cloth between two spindly trees that formed the back wall of their little site. A few small shrubs acted as a screen to the opposite side so that their camp was hidden from view in a valley that kept them low.
“And why do you wear your hood at all times? Ya’ ugly under there or just bald and shy?” the hobbit pressed in an attempt to goad him into action: the perfect opportunity for him to slip the knife from his boot.
“Do you want to keep asking questions? Or do you want to eat? Cause either way I’m not going to fall for your pathetic excuses at provoking me.” He struck a small rock against a shard of steel, casting sparks into a small pile of tinder he pulled from one of his bags, and blew until the embers caught the kindling. “Besides, that knife in your boot is already gone.” Then he held up the metal piece he started the fire with in his hand.
“Damn you, hunter! Who are you to interfere in the affairs of others that do not concern you? You think yourself a protector of man who shields the weak and helpless from the likes of me? Do not be a fool; no one is innocent.” Thom spat and rose to his feet.
He kicked sodden soil at his captor and bellowed as he was grabbed from behind before the dirt even hit the ground. “Now why would you want to get me dirty? If you like being filthy so much that you want to share it,” He lifted the little man off his feet. “Then don’t let me hinder you.” And with that, he tossed Thom on his face in the dirt, hands still bound behind his back.
He leaned down close, his mouth near the hobbit’s ear, and whispered as quietly as the wind. “If I were you, I would watch my tongue. For I am not you. And I am not the protector of man. I am the taker.”
The little thief made no move to get up and instead slept exactly where he fell. His only movement was when Outsider bound his feet and attached the rope to the saddle with threat of being dragged to death at a single command. Afterwards, the bounty hunter enjoyed a small meal of venison rations and cheese before laying down on his bedroll against a tree with his cloak about him.
The sun rose soon afterward and continued its climb as they rested. The shadows slowly grew longer and longer until they elongated into larger than life phantoms of themselves. Together, the pair missed the stunning view of the sun’s scintillating glow across the vast waves of rolling hills in the frozen tundra. Even the Mountain Fang emanated a magnificent aura of power that soaked those who watched its splendor with a fulfilling sense of energy.
Invigorated by this, the roaming band of orcs decided to press on into the day rather than retire at morning as was their custom. They followed their leader, an orc Elder who stood over a head taller than the largest in his band, which looked more dirge than anything, and carried a battleaxe renowned for its impregnable edge that was impossible to dull. Whoever wielded the legendary weapon assumed its persona and shared its feared name of Cleave Rend.
As such, Cleave Rend was the first to notice the scent in the air. He held up a gray fist the size of a hobbit’s head and the troop came to a stop. His gruff voice soon graveled out a few words. “Tagvik, scout out the area ahead. I smell woodsmoke.”
As soon as his name was mentioned, a small goblin wearing the lightest of armor with green skin stepped forward and took off full sprint. They watched him go for several minutes before he descended down the side of a valley and disappeared from view. Cleave Rend turned to his second in command, a large orc who stood shorter than most but as broad as his leader. His muscles were tensed in anticipation of what was to come. He too thought he could smell smoke, but without the heightened senses of such a weapon as his commander, he couldn’t be sure.
“Ulgvhen, I expect we shall soon be spilling blood.” Cleave Rend said excitedly, his beady black eyes glinting like flint. His jaw clenched so tight his yellow fangs that stood up above his lips actually framed the sides of his nose. “I thirst for it.”
Ulgvhen was uncertain as to whether he was referring to the axe or not. He had found over the last few years since his brother had ‘inherited’ the axe by slitting their father’s throat in his sleep, the weapon had a personality of its own that often melded with its wielder’s. This led to sudden and extreme mood swings that left him oblivious to most of his brother’s decisions until they were made.
I remember when your name was Uvrikh, he thought as he listened to Cleave Rend paint a picture of slaughter and the shades of blood different races spilled.
“Dwarf blood is darker than human,
with hobbits’ a bright scarlet. The elves have the most options, from the wood elves’ rich rose color to the dark elves' almost purple red. Ooh, I can’t wait. Tagvik had best hurry if he wishes to see the light of tomorrow.”
Half an hour passed as Cleave Rend grew more and more impatient. A cry from one of the band caught his attention immediately. “Alas. He returns. And not a moment too soon.” he said as he greedily rubbed the blade of his black axe. “Everyone gather ‘round. We shall soon march into battle and I don’t want any of you to scare ‘em off before I get my blood!” They converged on his position and waited obediently and silent until Tagvik returned.
“Speak.” Cleave Rend ordered the goblin. Despite being severely out of breath with lungs that felt on fire, he responded at once as clear as possible.
“Just two of them, master. A man. And a hobbit. They have one horse between them.” he said staring at the ground, not daring to meet his leader’s eyes.
The giant orc turned from the scout and rubbed his chin deep in thought. He silently debated with himself before coming to a decision.
“I need the red. I shall go with Ulgvhen so that he can witness my triumph in the name of our family, four more of you to dress the horse and carry the meat back, and our newest addition so that he may prove his mettle.” he growled, eyeing a young orc in the back of the group with wide black eyes and a bent mace. “We move out at once! The rest of you march back home to prepare for the feast. This horse will be the perfect addition to the flock of sheep we culled.”
The two groups split apart, one headed south to the camp, the other west to their caves. As they walked, Cleave Rend clapped the young orc on the shoulder and pulled him under his arm.
“Do well, boy, and kill the hobbit. The man is mine. Otherwise it is you who shall give me my red and be left behind.” The young orc paled under his leader’s grip and swallowed hard at the thought of facing the orc and the axe that are Cleave Rend.