by Craig Zerf
Whatever, or whoever it was, thought Nathaniel, it was quick. Because the marine had been riding ugly horse hard, pushing it to it's limits for almost two days and the follower was still there and he had seen no signs of another horse.
He had tried using his power to identify the follower but it was no use. He simply didn't have the finesse necessary. All that he could deem was that there was someone and that was all.
So that morning, before sunrise, he led his horse into a long narrow vale that ran through the forest. He tethered ugly horse back under cover of thick foliage and waited, his mouth and nose covered in a strip of material to stop his breath fogging. Still. Patient.
After forty minutes his vigil was rewarded as an Orc came into view. But Nathaniel could tell straight away that it was no normal Orc. The creature moved with great stealth and great speed. Almost graceful.
'I know you,' whispered the marine to himself. 'Should have killed you when I had the chance.' He continued scanning for more pursuers but, after a couple of minutes, saw none. 'Odd,' he said to himself as he slipped back to his horse and led it quietly away. 'Why is he alone?'
The marine pushed hard all day and then, at sundown, he stopped for a short break and grabbed a bite to eat. Hard bread and cheese, and then he continued. His plan was to keep going all night and give the Orc the slip. He remembered well the last time that they had met and, although he was sure that he could take him in battle, he saw no reason to deliberately court danger.
The next morning, as the sun rose, Nathaniel lay in watch once again.
To his amazement, the Orc was still on his tail. And he was chasing on foot.
The marine smiled and stood up, no longer bothering with concealment. He went to ugly horse, took a small pack of hard bread, a slice of cheese and a handful of dried fruit from his saddle bag, put them into a pouch and tied it to his waist. Then he slung a full water bottle over his shoulder and made sure that his axe was settled in his belt.
'Okay, ugly horse,' he said to his mount. 'We're not that far from home. Do you know the way?'
The horse stared at him. Expressionless.
Nathaniel smacked it on its rump. 'Go home, boy,' he shouted. Ugly stared at him for a while longer and then turned and trotted off, heading in the correct direction.
Nathaniel waited until the horse was out of sight and then he turned to face the distant Orc.
'Hey!' He waved his hands in the air. 'No horse. Just you and me.'
The Orc stopped running, looked at the marine and answered his wave.
'Right,' said Nathaniel as he turned towards home. 'Let's see just how tough you are.'
And he started to run.
***
Kob had been chasing the thin skin, Nathaniel, for three days now and he was bone tired. Keeping up with another biped was one thing, but trying to outrun a horse was another thing entirely. Kob had tried to ride before but try as he might, a horse would go insane whenever he, or any other Orc went near it. They had no idea why. So when it came to transport it was Shanks Pony all the way.
He had suspected that the human knew that he was being followed but he had been taken by complete surprise when, this morning at first light, the thin skin had stood up, waved to get his attention, and then shown him that he was no longer going to ride his horse, thereby leveling the playing fields.
Sergeant Kob already had a vast amount of respect for this human as he was the only being to have ever bested him in single combat and now, with the thin skin's latest demonstration, he felt even more admiration for him.
As a rule, Orcs did not have friends. Nor did they have partners. But if Kob had ever entertained the concept of friendship, then he was sure that this strange human would be an entity well worthy of his comradeship.
He adjusted his broadsword on his back, took a swing of water from his flask and started to run. Long loping strides that he could keep going all day and night if necessary.
***
Nathaniel ran along the game trail, not bothering about the clear tracks that he was leaving behind him. The Orc was obviously too skilled at tracking to be put off by anything as blatant as sweeping the trail or darting off into the underbrush.
But, as he ran, the marine was formulating a plan. He was simply waiting for the right moment to execute it.
Soon he saw a good spot up ahead. He immediately left the trail at a right angle, running off into the undergrowth for about twenty yards and then, mid stride, he stopped and, slowly and very carefully, he backtracked. Stepping in his own footsteps so it appeared as though he had been running and simply disappeared.
When he arrived back at the point where he had deviated from the trail, he ran on for thirty yards or so, preparing himself as he did.
And, as he passed under a tree branch that was sticking out over the track, some twelve feet in the air, he launched himself up with a mighty jump and grabbed it, fingers scrabbling desperately at the icy coating. Then, moving with care and stealth, he climbed along the branch and then jumped to the next tree. Once again, his trail had simply stopped as if he had flown away.
He kept moving from tree to tree until the gap between the trees was too great and he then climbed back down to ground level and set off running once again.
'Ha,' he said to himself. 'Work that one out, mister Orc. I think not.'
***
As Sergeant Kob ran he wondered at what he had done. Why had he chased after the thin skin without telling his commander that he was doing so? Why had he left, unaided by any other Orcs or goblins? Why hadn't he shouted the alarm when the human Milly had told him of The Forever Mans presence?
He could not think of a viable answer. He might say that a single warrior could travel faster by himself. He might argue that a lone tracker could remain unseen for longer than a contingent. But he knew, in his heart of hearts, that these arguments were specious. And, as a result, he also knew that, whatever the outcome, when he returned back to his garrison, his Fair-Folk leaders would punish him. It would be a short rope and a long drop for him. As it should be, he agreed to himself as he ran. He had acted irresponsibly and recklessly and had disobeyed protocol.
And all because of his own vanity. A trait that the pod-bred Orcs were not even meant to possess. He wanted to test himself against the thin skin. He wanted to fight him again to see if the last time had been mere bad luck or simple circumstance.
If he managed to beat The Forever Man then he would return home and face his punishment. It would have been worth it. If he lost…well…he laughed to himself, there would be nothing to worry about as his head would most definitely be well separated from his body, courtesy of the huge axe that the thin skin used so well.
He turned a corner on the game track and saw, immediately, that the human's tracks split. One set carried on straight and another veered off sharply to the right, plunging into the thick undergrowth.
Kob stopped running and thought. What he saw in front of him was obviously not possible. A man could not be traveling in two directions at the same time. He decided to follow the tracks that veered off into the undergrowth. He moved quickly and silently, sacrificing speed for stealth. But after twenty yard the tracks simply disappeared. He cast about, running on for another twenty yards and then circling the vanishing point. Nothing.
He squatted down on his haunches and thought for a while. Could The Forever Man fly? The Orc shrugged to himself. Who knows? Maybe he could. But Kob assumed that, a man such as The Forever Man would not use his gift of flight in this situation. He reckoned that he would see it as…unfair.
Kob stood up and ran back to the track, to follow the set of prints that had continued on straight. After thirty yards or so - they too disappeared.
The Orc sergeant took a deep breath, sat down in the snow and pulled out a stick of jerked beef to gnaw on and he thought.
Chapter 37
Nathaniel had a small, smokeless fire going and he sat close, toasting a piece of hard bread on a stick. Turning it
constantly to stop it burning. After a few more seconds he pulled it from the flames and took an experimental bite. It was warm but still rock hard and stale, but he chewed and swallowed nonetheless. Eating to replenish energy.
'Come,' he said. 'Sit by the fire. It's small but warm. Warmer than no fire, at least.'
Orc sergeant Kob walked up to the fire and squatted opposite the marine.
'You used the trees,' said Kob. 'Swung from branch to branch. Took me two hours to find your spoor again.'
Nathaniel laughed. 'Pretty clever, hey?'
Kob nodded. 'But then you squandered your lead to make a fire and toast some old bread. Why?'
The marine shrugged. 'I think that you probably would have caught up with me before the wall. You're fast. I mean, I am faster but I suspect that you have the lead on me when it comes to stamina. I burn hot but fast. Better sprinter than long distance runner. So, I figured, if it's a fight that you're looking for, now is as good a time as any.'
'True,' agreed the Orc. 'So, what now?'
Nathaniel stood up and stretched. 'Now we fight.'
'Armed or unarmed?' Enquired sergeant Kob.
'Oh, armed,' said Nathaniel. 'This isn't some sort of fight club. This is for real.' He unclipped his battle-axe from his belt and Kob drew his massive broadsword.
Kob swung first. A massive overhand blow.
Nathaniel swayed to his left and deflected the sword with his own blade and then he countered with a backhand.
The Orc ducked under the backhand, swiveled and struck again.
As the fight progressed the two contestants sped up. Metal crashed against metal. Sparks flew and steam boiled off both warriors as they clashed again and again.
Neither drew blood and neither could gain the upper hand.
There was no finesse in the way that they fought. It was all about speed, strength and endurance. Every blow was a massive, killing swing. Every parry was a desperate hack. The very forest itself shuddered at the colossal onslaught.
And then The Forever Man realized, with a heavy heart, that he was actually holding back. He was deliberately slowing his reaction time down by microseconds. Not much, but just enough to allow the Orc to stay in the battle. Enough to allow the creature to retain some semblance of honor.
Kob faked a blow to Nathaniel's head and then he jumped back and grounded his sword.
He held his hand up.
'Wait,' he said. 'What are you doing?'
'Fighting,' answered Nathaniel. 'What else?'
Kob shook his head. 'You could have blooded me many times already but you haven't. Why?'
Nathaniel shrugged.
'Please,' continued Kob. 'You do me no honor in holding back. I beg you, give me your all. There is no dishonor in losing to a warrior such as you.' The Orc sergeant raised his sword up again, took a deep breath and lunged towards the marine.
The Forever Man exploded, smashing the Orc's sword aside and kicking him in the chest, forcing him back and up the hill that they were fighting on.
Kob fought with renewed effort, spinning and ducking and lashing out with his steel. But his efforts were for aught. The Forever man was as the wind before him. Powerful, unstoppable and untouchable as his double bladed axe blocked Kob's massive blows, turning them aside with consummate ease as he smashed open his armor, hammering it to pieces, blow by blow.
Kob retreated, stumbling backwards and further up the hill as the demigod of war hacked and slashed and cut. Blood flowed freely from the Orcs forehead and chest and arm but none of the blows was enough to dismember or kill and Kob could sense that, even now, The Forever Man was not fighting at close to his full potential.
Finally, when they got to the top of the small hill that they had been battling on, Kob succumbed to his exhaustion and fell to his knees, his sword held limply in his hand with no strength left to lift it, let alone wield it in combat.
He smiled to himself. It had been a good fight. There was no shame in losing to this magnificent being that had bested him with apparent ease. No shame at all.
He looked up at The Forever Man who stood above him. Not a cut nor mark upon his face nor body. Not a bead of sweat. Not even a rip in his clothes to betray the fact that he had just fought the ultimate Orc warrior to a standstill.
Kob rested his head on his chest and waited for the blade that would end his life. He knew that the cut would be strong and sure and his death would be clean. There would be no rope for him. No ignominious death by the hand of his so-called superiors. For him would be the true honor of the warriors' death. A death by the blade.
He waited.
But nothing came.
He looked up at the Forever Man and saw that the human was staring at something. Over Kob's head. Looking at something in the valley below him.
Kob turned to see what Nathaniel was staring at.
The entire valley was packed with rank upon rank of brightly armored creatures. And the air above was full of flying versions of the same thing.
'What are they?' He asked.
'Annihilators,' answered The Forever Man as he held out his hand to help Kob to his feet.
The two of them stared at the mass of living beings below them.
'The Vandals told me that they were coming,' said Nathaniel. 'I didn't take them seriously enough.' He turned to face the Orc sergeant. 'Listen, my new friend, we have a problem. These things are bad. Worse than you and I put together. And I tell you something for nothing - they are here to destroy us all. Humans, Fair-Folk, goblins and Orcs.'
'I believe you,' said Kob. 'With your leave I will return home as swiftly as possible and warn our leaders.'
'As will I,' said Nathaniel
The two unlikely allies shook hands, forearm to forearm as warriors do.
'My friends call me Nathaniel,' said the marine.
'I have no friends,' retorted the Orc.
'You do now,' said Nathaniel. 'So what do I call you?'
The Orc tilted his head to one side as he thought about the concept of friendship. 'You can call me Kob.' Then he picked up his sword, slid it into his scabbard and started to run for home.
Just before he entered the forest he turned to face the marine and he waved. 'Thank you, friend.'
And then he was gone.
Nathaniel clipped his axe to his belt, gave the massed Enemy one last look and then headed for the wall and his people.
Once again, The Forever Man was preparing for war.
********************************
Well - that's the end of another chapter in Nathaniel's life. If you enjoyed it PLEASE could you leave a review on AMAZON. It really does help. If you didn't enjoy the book, or if you would like to discuss it or offer some advice…then please get hold of me at [email protected]. It's my personal email and I will get back to you straight away.
The Forever Man. Book 4: UNICORN
© 2015, Author Craig Zerf/C. Marten-Zerf
Small Dog Publishing Limited
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
For Polly and Axel…of course!