The Eighth God

by Paul S. Lavender

  He approached the next orc from the right side his footsteps making no sound, darkness was Saethryth’s friend, he did his best work at night, as this orc found out. Then his dagger plunged into the orc’s heart killing him instantly and sending a plume of blood spraying out when it was withdrawn.

  These were the easy targets, the lone orcs, the ones to the sides of the main force, he knew he would have to encounter a larger group at some point, as long as they had metal weapons he wasn’t too concerned.

  Wiping the blade on the dead orc, he moved silently off again. He remembered the last time he was in the orc Lands when he had been given the name of The Dancing Death. Even the orcs, it seemed had forgotten the Orcslayers, he had done his best to remind them, slaying men, women and, yes even children.

  He had always killed the children quickly, didn’t touch them any more than he needed to, he didn’t fuck their women, mind who would fuck they were ugly, he had killed and had revelled in it.

  Survivors, of which there weren’t many, told of a black shadow that danced around, cleaving and stabbing, maiming and killing, no blade could touch it, swords passed harmlessly through. And it sang it sang a litany of exalted names, the names of the greatest Orc warriors that ever lived, even as it took more and added to them.

  He smiled at the thought of the fear he had put into them, but it wasn’t enough, it was never enough. One Orcslayer couldn’t destroy them all, but now there were two of them, here together and as the war continued he would find more men and women who wanted revenge. They too would want to carry the war back to the orcs.

  There were small trails that only he knew if you didn’t want to use the five passes. Of course, the other Orcslayers would be able to use them if needed, but so many questions to be answered. After all, why would anyone want to go over the pass willingly?

  He suddenly realised he had been thinking too much and not paying attention to what was going on around him as he noted movement near him. He had just walked into the middle of half a dozen orcs, two were the larger orcs of the Kul tribe with their human skull dripping blood insignia on their shields, the other four were from a tribe known as the Shik.

  The Shik were smaller and wore no armour, they had what looked like kitchen knives for weapons, whereas the Kul had proper swords, the Shik were also more cowardly and easily agitated. What concerned Saethryth the most was that the Shik lands were nowhere near the Kul lands, so what were they doing together, here of all places.

  As he thought all this he had drawn his long sword, and the sword began its litany.

  Bez-Shik...

  The Shik all stopped stone dead, Bez had practically been a god to the Shik tribe, the pause cost two of them their lives as the sword swung sideways and decapitated two of them at the same time. The other two Shik took steps back, and the two Kul orcs came forward together.

  Ang-Igg...

  The first orc swung at Saethryth with a chopping motion, the blade whistled down, and Saethryth moved to the left slightly, letting it pass harmlessly by him even as he counter-attacked with a thrust to the orc’s foot. The sword pierced the foot, stabbing deep, the orc howled out loud and threw his arms up in shock. This removed the benefit of his shield and Saethryth quickly pulled his sword out of the orc’s foot and thrust into the orc’s chest. The sword pierced through the orc’s chest and out of his back, Saethryth quickly put his foot up to the orc’s chest and kicked him off the blood-splattered blade.

  Grash-Jut...

  The second Kul orc had stabbed Saethryth in the side and was looking perplexed as to why the figure before him hadn’t gone down. He was still looking perplexed when Saethryth swept the long sword down, splitting his head in two, which then peeled away to show the brains.

  Isk-Isk...

  The last two Shik, fear in their eyes, started to turn and run, shouting, ‘The Dancing Death’, as they ran. Saethryth cleaned his blade and sheathed it, taking out his short bow, he assembled it and started to aim.

  The first orc didn’t make twenty yards before the arrow pierced through his throat and he pin-wheeled forward and fell on his face in the grass.

  The second orc managed to get thirty yards, his back arched as the arrow pierced into one of his kidneys; he slumped forward crying out as he did so.

  Saethryth listened, his senses straining and he could hear a large force moving towards where he was. He knew there were too many to take on alone, even with metal weapons, their sheer weight of numbers would eventually overwhelm him, and once he was captured, they would find ways to cause him extreme pain before clubbing him to death.

  It was time to retreat behind the stockade at Hardstone; he hoped the wooden walls would be enough to slow the orcs down, making it easier to kill them. He turned and stalked silently back to the village.

  42: The Battle of Hardstone

  Tierra had organised the villagers into groups with the help of Goyler, she had one group keeping an eye out from rooftops near the walls, and another group were piling anything heavy they could find behind the two gates of the village. The third group were filling everything they could with water, in case the orcs tried to set fire to the walls, which they had already dampened as much as they could.

  The fourth group were making bandages and looking after the children, they would be the reserve if they were needed and was mainly composed of the elderly and the younger women.

  Many of the older women wanted to be with their husbands and families and to fight alongside them. Tierra didn’t have a problem with that, as a female and a soldier herself she knew the capabilities of other women, knew their strengths and weaknesses. They would fight as hard if not harder than the men to protect the young and their homes from the onslaught that was to come.

  ‘How’s it going?’

  The voice beside her, so close made her jump, made her heart beat faster as adrenaline began to course through her, she took several deep breaths to bring her breathing down again.

  ‘How the hell did you do that? We must have twenty people looking out over the palisade.’

  ‘Unlike you and I, they're Human, it’s getting too dark for them to see much, even with the torches lit they’ll be struggling because it’ll destroy their night vision.’

  Goyler turned to Saethryth, he hadn’t moved when the Elf had spoken, and Tierra wondered if there was more to the old man than met the eye.

  ‘You’re a pretty quiet young fella ain’t ya? You one of them ‘sassins out of the desert kingdoms, is ya?’

  ‘No, Goyler. I’m not an Assassin, but I am a good scout. The Orcs are about half an hour away, they’re moving slowly even though they can see pretty well in the dark, I figure they will arrive roughly between that gate and the house over there.’

  He pointed at the two positions as he said them, ‘We could do with some caltrops or similar, it wouldn’t kill them, but it would have taken them out of the fight. I’ll be able to take a lot out as they close on the wall, but I’m not entirely sure how many there are, I think it’s still the half band, so I’m thinking about three hundred of them. I’m thinking that there are about three or four of smaller orcs to one bigger one. The smaller ones will break first, so if you can try and kill as many of them as you can, lower their morale quickly, and we will win this.’

  ‘You sure do know yer orcs lad.’ Said Goyler looking impressed.

  Saethryth chuckled, ‘Yeah, I know more about them than I do my own family. Anyway, apart from the barkeep how many archers do we have?’

  ‘Two dozen. Although they ain’t war-bows, mainly short ‘uns, we do a lot of huntin’ for fresh meat.’

  ‘Well, that’s good, if we let the orcs advance until they’re nearly upon us before they fire, that will give us a bit of surprise.’

  Goyler went off in search of the Hunters to give them their orders.

  ‘There’s something about that man.’ said Tierra

  ‘Yeah, he’s pretty calm considering what’s about to hit his village. Still, I’m sure we’
ll find out soon enough, he won’t be able to keep his talents hidden once the orcs get here. We better get ready, could you take to the skies and keep an eye on things?’

  ‘But, don’t you need me here, I’m a soldier Saethryth, not a house wife, please don’t treat me like Ashen Falls glass?’

  ‘I’m not, look you can see where the orcs will break through, and swoop in to bolster the defence there. You’re our best weapon, our ace in the hole on this one.’

  ‘Okay.’ Tierra took to the skies once more.

  Saethryth moved up to the palisade, and climbed up to stand with his legs stood on two of the pointed logs, he stood like a statue, unmoving, looking into the darkness, waiting for signs of movement. Soon Goyler joined him, standing on the walkway behind the parapet.

  ‘See 'owt yet?’

  ‘No, something’s not right; I should be seeing them by now. Oh wait, here they come. Better get the archers ready, down there.’

  Saethryth had seen a ragtag row of orcs at the edge of his vision and then as he watched another row came into view. The orcs started to spread out, and Saethryth started to hear the jangling of weapons and armour as they came closer then he could hear growling and cursing.

  He saw two huge man-shaped figures naked apart from scraps of cloth covering their manhoods. They were carrying a tree between them suspended from chains wrapped around their shoulders.

  ‘What the fu...’

  ‘Ogres lad, from the lands even more northern than the Orcs, ain’t never heard of ‘em workin’ with orcs afore tho’.’

  ‘Who the hell are you, Goyler?’

  ‘Me, I’m the man they’ve come ta kill. I’ll tell ya ‘bout it after.’

  Saethryth exhaled, ‘How do we kill them?’

  ‘Same as anyone else, steel, fire, acid if yer got some, but they take a long time ta go down, so if ya can, keep movin'. Shouldn’t be too hard for the Knight of Luck, eh lad?’

  Saethryth drew his long sword and looked at the rabble of orcs charging towards the parapet.

  ‘Yer gonna need more than that sword, lad, here borrow mine.’

  Goyler was holding a sword hilt first towards Saethryth. Saethryth stared at it, it was identical to the one he held in his hand, he reached out, and as his hand is wrapped around the hilt, both swords started to sing in a ululating cadence that soared high into the night.

  Villagers turned to look at the elf standing on the fence posts, and even high in the sky, Tierra could hear the blades.

  The orcs stopped in their tracks, some being crushed as the ogres continued towards the gate, their order had been to open the gate and that was all their brains could handle. They weren’t even aware of the singing of the swords and didn’t even care that the orcs had stopped and that they were now alone.

  ‘Tell the Archers to fire now, while they’re confused, I’ll take the ogres.’

  Goyler shouted the command to fire, as once more Saethryth leapt down to the ground on the other side of the palisade. Landing he took a deep breath and ran for the ogres.

  Trush-Kul saw the lone figure making for the two ogres, he was impressed, even orcs could recognise bravery in a foe, but the figure was going to die tonight. Even as he opened his mouth to sound the charge that would get his men moving forward again, a rain of arrows flew down.

  The arrows pierced Kul and Shik alike, they flew into the massed ranks of orcs hitting everywhere, one orc spun like a wooden top with an arrow sticking out of one eye.

  As Trush watched, the orc pitched forward, and the arrow punched out the back of his head as he hit the ground. At least a dozen more were down with arrows through chests, legs and arms, as Trush yelled charge, the second flight of arrows hit and more men went down.

  And then they were running forward towards the village, hate and revenge sweeping them along, counteracting that terrible singing that had nearly caused his men to flee.

  Trush had his orders, he had to find an old man and kill him, and the best way to find the one you wanted was to kill them all. He didn’t know why the old man had to die, but his uncle had said it would change the world, and Trush would be venerated as a great hero and could have his pick of the slave women and boys. When the time was right Trush would kill Grash and be chief of this new world that he had helped forge.

  43: Concangis and Epiacum

  Saethryth ran at the nearest ogre, and as he closed he realised that he would be struggling to get near their heads, shifting slightly he ran for the log between them and leapt up to stand upon it. Shifting his feet to keep his balance, he slashed with a long sword at each of the ogres. The blades slashed a shallow cut, as the ogres’ thick skin stopped the blades from penetrating deeply.

  The ogres both raised their free hands to bring them down in a crushing blow, but Saethryth somersaulted forward, and the huge fists of the ogres swept past harmlessly.

  Saethryth then back flipped and as he did so tried the same manoeuvre with the blades as before, this time scoring slightly deeper cuts across the ogres' backs. The ogres bellowed in pain and swung again at the elf that stood between them, this time, Saethryth jumped upwards and landing on the arm of one of the ogres, he ran up and thrust both blades into the top of the ogres' head. The blades punched through the ogre’s skull, smashing it open like a boiled egg, brains and goo went flying, and the swords pierced deeper thrusting into the neck, severing arteries and fountaining blood into the throat.

  As the ogre toppled forward, Saethryth launched himself to land on his feet, but in mid-air, the other ogres fist smacked into his chest. Saethryth felt ribs crack as he was sent flying into the dirt at the ogres feet his swords flying out of his hands. He could do no more than grimace in pain as the ogre stepped forward, raising his hand to strike the killing blow.

  Suddenly the ogre was whirling and grasping at something on his head, it bellowed, and Saethryth couldn’t help but watch fascinated as a rain of flesh and blood started to fall all around him.

  Dust flew up as Tierra landed next to Saethryth, ‘Need a hand.’

  She reached out and pulled him up, and he winced at the pain in his chest.

  ‘We need to go,’ she said and grabbing his arms she slowly started to lift him into the air. As they slowly rose, Saethryth saw the net, cutting and slicing into the ogres' head, as the 0gre tried to pull the net off, the net cut through flesh and bone, severing them. The ogre screamed and screamed as it was diced into more and more pieces until the net reached the mouth and then silence. The ogre toppled over to lie next to its brethren.

  Saethryth cursed, ‘My swords.’

  ‘Too late now, the orcs are past the ogres and coming on fast.’

  ‘Shit.’

  Tierra carried Saethryth back into the village and put him on the ground, she was breathing hard and put her hands on her hips as she took deep breaths.

  ‘You need to rest, now. Leave the rest to Goyler and me.’

  Saethryth struggled towards the wall, ‘I can’t Tierra, it’s just a bit of pain, I need to get my swords back.’

  Tierra shook her head, ‘Men!’

  Saethryth moved slowly towards where Goyler was standing.

  ‘At that speed, the orcs will get there before you.’ Tierra put one of his arms over her shoulder and helped him back to the palisade. A minute later a wall of orcs crashed into it.

  ‘Could...Really...Do...With...A...Sword...Now...’ Gasped Saethryth through gritted teeth.

  Goyler looked at the elf, ‘Just call them.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Say their names, mines called Concangis, yours, as you know, is Epiacum, obviously, you don’t have to say them out loud just think them, and they will hear.’

  ‘I swear, how do you know all this stuff?'

  Saethryth concentrated on the swords names.

  Trush was bending over looking at one of the black long swords when suddenly the weapon started to shake and bounce on the ground. He took a step back as the blade suddenly lifted into the air, and five feet awa
y another sword lifted u as well. He reached to grab the hilt of the sword, but as he did so the weapon surged forward, both it and its twin flew four feet off the ground, heading straight for the village.

  As the swords flew they chopped and sliced through anything in their paths, orcs went spinning in all directions with arms severed or pierced through their chests. As the blades closed on the wall, they lifted higher to clear the palisade and landed in the hands of the figure who had charged the ogres.

  Trush yelled at his men, ‘That’s the man we want. If nothing else kill him. KILL HIM!’

  The palisade was only six and a half feet tall, designed more to keep livestock safe than to keep out a horde of orcs. The large Kul orcs started to form stirrups with their hands so that the smaller Shik orcs could leap onto and over the wooden top.

  As the first orc came over, Goyler grabbed him and started smashing his face into one of the Palisade tops, the orcs face collapsed as the wooden point drove into it. Goyler smashed the face a few more times for good luck and then pushed the corpse over the fence.

  Saethryth tried to swing Epiacum but his chest flared with pain, and he gasped.

  Seeing him in pain Tierra threw a coin at an orc that was jumping down toward the elf. The coin hit the orc in the chest, throwing him back against the parapet blood spurting out of the puncture wound.

  ‘You.’ She pointed at Saethryth, ‘Aid station, now!’

  Saethryth, obviously not happy walked from the palisade, even as the archers moved forward to replace bows with short swords. He shook his head as they went running past. Something was definitely not right with this village. He sheathed Epiacum and was wondering what to do with Concangis, when he realised that he didn’t have the sword anymore, looking at Goyler he saw him thrusting and chopping at orcs as they came over the fence. How the...He stalked off towards the aid station.

  44: The Eighth God’s Avatar

  Saethryth lay on a straw filled mattress in one of the Inn’s small rooms, his ribs were still aching but not as bad as they had been. He was getting soft, time was a broken rib or two had been nothing, now it had him laid out like a new born babe.