Legends of Gravenstone: The Secret Voyage

by Alex Aguilar

Suddenly, the girl’s smile faded and her eyes sunk… Something behind Melvyn had caught her eye. Something leathery and brown caught in between two stones just down the stream. She threw her stick on the mud and ran towards it, her curiosity at its peak.

  “Margot? What are you doing?!”

  She bent to her knees and, while holding onto a loose boulder, reached into the water.

  It was a blade, old and rusty and still sheathed on a tattered leather case.

  She became lost for a moment, her lips curving into a smile.

  And then her other hand slipped… Her arms sunk into the water, but before the current could hit her face, Melvyn’s hand grasped the back of her dress and gave a strong pull.

  “What are you doing?!” he said, but his eyes widened immediately when he noticed the rusty blade she had fetched from the river. “Whoa… brilliant!”

  For a moment, their innocent eyes became immersed with wonder. They were far too inexperienced with a blade to ever be allowed to hold one just yet. Often when they asked, they’d get lectured by their mother or Old Man Beckwit. A blade is not a toy, they’d say. It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt…

  But their inquisitive little hearts could not resist. The blade, however tarnished and worn out it might have been, was like treasure to them. And not having held one in their lives made them completely oblivious to the fact that it was in fact their brother John’s old blade, the very same one he’d used to fight and capture a wanted thief, the one he had lost when he threw himself into the creek just a week prior.

  “Could I see…?” Melvyn asked.

  “I found it first,” she held the blade out of his reach.

  “I know, but could I jus-”

  “Wait, shh!” she silenced him, her ear catching something rather peculiar.

  “What?”

  “D’you hear that…?”

  It was a high-pitched cry, like that of an infant, somewhere within a cluster of bushes nearby. They began walking towards it. Margot led the way, much like she always did, her long black hair swaying with the wind.

  “W-Wait, Margot…”

  He grabbed her by the elbow, but she shook herself right off.

  “Let go!” she hissed at him.

  “Yes, but what if y-”

  “If you don’t want to come, then stay back.”

  But he didn’t… He couldn’t… Much like any other child, his curiosity won him over, despite the fact that he was frightened out of his mind. They followed their ears, the muffled whimpering growing louder and louder with every step they took. Then, as they stepped in between two shrubs, they came across a pile of leaves pressed together into a bed, and on top of it was a bundle of cloth… Something within the cloth was moving…

  Margot bent down and, with a cautious hand, revealed what hid underneath.

  Her jaw dropped slightly. “By the gods…”

  It was an infant orc… Tiny, olive-skinned, and sharp-fanged, but oddly endearing all the same. Melvyn searched all around for any sign of life, but there was no one. “Y-You think someone left it here…?”

  The babe stopped crying all of a sudden and looked up at Margot, his glossy yellow eyes blinking gently, and gave her something like a smile. She smiled right back and with wonder in her eyes she reached a hand out to touch him…

  “Stop!”

  She bounced from the fright. “What?!” she hissed at Melvyn.

  “What if… I-I don’t know, what if it gets you sick, or s-something?”

  “Don’t be stupid, it’s only a baby!”

  “I-I know, but… y’know what they say. They’re… dangerous, aren’t they?”

  “When has a baby ever hurt you?” she rolled her eyes.

  Melvyn was sweating, despite the cool breeze. Margot would’ve been lying to herself if she said she wasn’t a bit rattled herself. It was, after all, the first time they’d ever seen a baby orc.

  “Fine,” she said, leaping to her feet. “I’ll go get mum! You stay here.”

  “What, alone? With… it?”

  “You’ll be fine! Stop being childish! Here, take this,” she handed him the rusty blade. “Make sure nothing harms it. I’ll be back!”

  “W-What if I go get mum?!”

  “You’re too slow. I’ll go!”

  “Wait, M-Margot!”

  But she was gone before he could protest, leaving him alone and nervous within the bushes… Alone with a babe whose mother was nowhere to be found…

  Evellyn Amberhill hopped off the cart and tied her mule to the pole just outside the Huxleys’ barn. She could see Adelina Huxley harvesting corn from the field and filling baskets until there was no more room in them. With a smile, she walked over. There was a deep sadness in the Adelina’s somnolent eyes. Having not heard from either of her children in a week, she hadn’t gone a single night with a good sleep. There was still hope there… For a mother, it was nearly impossible to give up hope entirely.

  Evellyn reached her, but the woman was lost in her thoughts. And so the blacksmith cleared her throat, startling her.

  “Evellyn!” she said, wiping the sweat and dirt from her forehead. “What a pleasure it is to see you, my dear.”

  “Hello, Missus Huxley,” Evellyn replied with a smile.

  “For goodness’ sake, how many times must I tell you? It’s Adelina to you.” They shared a warm hug.

  “I came by to give you this,” Evellyn reached into her pocket and drew the 5 coppers.

  “And what’s this for?”

  “Oh… John didn’t tell you? We couldn’t afford last week’s vegetable order. Business has been rather slow. He insisted we keep the food and pay you when we can,” Evellyn smiled shyly.

  “Sounds exactly like him,” said Adelina.

  Evellyn could see past the woman’s false smile and could almost sense her grief. Adelina had, in fact, shed tears every night since John and Robyn left the farm. And she was having difficulty getting out of bed in the mornings.

  “How are you?” Evellyn asked.

  “I’m fine…”

  “Honestly,” Evellyn placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “If you need anything… anything at all… please let us know.”

  Adelina felt the knot in her throat start to grow and before she knew it, the tears she was fighting so hard to hold back started to pour. Evellyn couldn’t help but lend her a shoulder. Seeing the blacksmith only reminded Adelina of John. She still saw them as the two children they once were, running and chasing each other through the fields. She longed for those days, truthfully. At least her John was safe back then. Now, he could be lying dead or wounded somewhere and there was no way for her to know for certain.

  “Mum!” a voice echoed in the distance. Margot Huxley had never run so fast…

  Adelina turned, suddenly alarmed upon seeing one of her children without the other.

  “Mum!” Margot kept shouting.

  Adelina ran towards her, nearly tripping over the basket of corn, and Evellyn followed closely behind. “Margot?! Where’s your brother?!”

  “He’s fine,” Margot slowed to a halt. “Quick… By the river! There’s something you have to see…”

  Melvyn Huxley could hardly bear to be near the orc child.

  Be brave, damn you, he thought angrily to himself. He was not like the rest of his siblings, never had been. He was always the timid one, always the one hiding behind his mother’s dress while someone else stepped forward and took the lead. His lip shivered as his eyes kept searching the fields, his snooping feet inching forward. Then he glanced nervously at the tiny orc’s face, as if glancing into a pit of poisonous snakes.

  Truth be told, it looked like any other baby, only with olive green skin and tiny fangs sticking out of its lower lip. It looked harmless, nothing like the ‘fierce creatures’ he’d been told about all his life, just a small innocent thing.

  He’s just a child, Melvyn repeated in his mind. Just a child, nothing more…

  He took another step clos
er, a bigger step…

  And it was then that he saw the incoming shadow…

  Just around the shrubs, an orcess approached holding a sack of river water in one hand and a bundled cloth in the other. Her clothes were ragged and torn and wet, as if she had recently swam across the creek. Her shoulders, arms, feet, and part of her belly were exposed where the cloth had been ripped, and her shawl was now gone, her long black knotted hair loose and wild, like the thick mane of a mare.

  Aevastra looked like any other woman, except perhaps taller than average, and much like the baby the only exceptions were her fangs and the color of her skin. When she saw the farmboy standing too close to her son, she felt the hairs in the back of her neck rise. She gave him a sudden snakelike hiss and her hands dropped. The sack of water splashed on the grass and the fresh berries stumbled out of the unwrapped cloth.

  Melvyn stumbled backwards in fear. “S-Sorry, I…”

  Aevastra reached into her waist belt and pulled out a hidden knife, a tiny knife, the likes of which Melvyn’s mother would use for butter, except sharpened to a thin edge. She aimed it up at Melvyn, taking careful steps towards her child, shielding it, protecting it like a wolf mother would protect her pups. It wasn’t the boy that scared her, it was the rusty blade he was holding against his chest; it was still sheathed, but he looked mere seconds away from using it. She opened her lips, a rough grunt escaping with every exhale.

  “Go…” she said.

  And much to his surprise, her voice was soft and kind like his mother’s. Her eyes may have been wary and fierce, but in a way that also reminded him of his mother.

  “Go!” she said louder, swinging the knife gently as if trying to scare him.

  A moment passed… Melvyn was petrified by the fear…

  “I-I’m s… I’m so sorry,” he said, easing back slowly. He loosened his grip on the blade and held it to the side as if showing her that he meant no harm.

  She approached the bed of leaves.

  “Back!” she grunted, knife held up in defense still.

  “Y-Yes… yes, okay,” he stepped back. “We were just looking after it… Him.”

  She dropped to her knees and caressed her babe’s cheek, checking for any wounds. But the child was looking up, eyes gleaming and lips curling. He was safe and unharmed, and it eased her nerves a bit.

  Melvyn watched in awe. For a couple of ‘fierce creatures’, they appeared more human than anything else. He found that while he was still nervous, he was not exactly afraid anymore. He had a strange warm feeling, like gazing upon a mother bird feeding her chicks. Behind him, however, were a couple of more worried faces…

  “Melvyn… Get back here…”

  The boy turned, only to see his mother’s firm eyes beckoning him back. “M-Mum…”

  Adelina, Margot, and Evellyn Amberhill stood there with open mouths and befuddled looks on their faces. By impulse, Aevastra’s hand swung up again, knife still at hand. And Melvyn ran to take cover behind his mother. Margot, on the other hand, stepped valiantly forward with a look of shock and wonder.

  “Margot! Get back here this instant…”

  But the girl’s curiosity was far too great to obey.

  “Hi,” she said to Aevastra. “I’m Margot…”

  Aevastra glared back… The girl’s eyes were friendly, she could tell. The orcess hadn’t seen friendly eyes in a long, long time. Her mother and the other woman, however, seemed to be more guarded.

  “Margot Huxley,” the girl reiterated. “I-Is, um… Is your baby hungry?”

  Upon hearing Margot’s words, Adelina looked down at the bundle of cloth. Not that she hadn’t noticed it before, but she had failed to notice the movement within it. And suddenly, she understood the orcess’s overly protective manner.

  “It’s okay,” Margot said. “We have food… I-If you want?”

  It was then that Aevastra lowered the knife. She was a rubbish huntress and she knew it. And though she wasn’t at all trusting of humans, her child mattered more to her.

  “What’s your name?” Margot asked.

  The orcess picked up her child and held him against her chest, swaying him gently.

  “Aevastra,” she said. “My name is Aevastra.”

  Adelina was hesitant to speak. Something inside her was burdening her with doubt and uncertainty. Seeing a desperate mother with a starving babe in her hands was not entirely new to her. The world was regrettably full of desperate mothers and starving babes. And though her heart knew what to do, her mind wouldn’t allow it. Not again.

  “Mum?” Margot muttered. “Please? I think she’s lost…”

  We’re all lost, Adelina thought. And that is not my child to care for…

  She felt a knot in her throat. She loathed herself for having such thoughts. But she had always been a survivor. And she knew that with both John and Robyn gone, the burden of the labor would fall entirely on her. And there was no way she could possibly provide food for two more mouths.

  That is not my child to care for, she kept on, as if trying to convince herself.

  But it was still a child… And the fact that it wasn’t hers hadn’t stopped her before…

  “Please, mum…”

  Adelina looked at the orcess one last time. She saw the fierceness in her eyes, the will to survive. It was far too familiar to her, and she couldn’t simply ignore it. And so, with a sigh, her lips curled into a hesitant smile. And she saw Aevastra’s own lips start to curl as well.

  It was a pleasant moment… Quite pleasant… Until it wasn’t.

  The sudden sound of piercing flesh startled them all. An arrow flew in out of nowhere and struck the orcess in the back. And the sharp tip managed to stab through and burst out of her collar bone.

  The orcess roared. And for a moment, the twins realized where the word ‘fierce’ came from, in the stories. Aevastra’s roar was like that of a wildcat…

  Adelina sprung forward and managed to catch the orcess before she fell to her knees.

  Margot grabbed the baby and immediately carried him back towards the bushes to safety.

  And it was then that they all saw the two pairs of sinister eyes staring from across the creek. Two orcs, standing side by side with eerie grins plastered on their faces. One of them, the massive one, was holding a bow in his hand and reached for a second arrow.

  Adelina’s eyes opened wider than ever before, realizing her own children were still there.

  “Get back to the farm!” she shouted. “All of you! Now!”

  They ran.

  * * *

  Robyn Huxley never thought she could sleep while leaning against a pile of junk.

  She also didn’t think it possible to dream, and yet she did.

  She dreamt of Nyx… She dreamt that he still lived and that they were back at the Huxley farm, laughing and talking about the misadventure with the tree nymphs. She didn’t want to wake. If it were up to her, she would’ve slept forever. Something, however, woke her up.

  Perhaps it was the guilt.

  Perhaps it was the pulsating rage in her chest.

  Perhaps it was the throbbing and agonizing pain in her arm. With her hands tied behind her, she couldn’t see the burn wound. But she could feel it, all right… It itched and stung like all hells…

  She heard voices outside, a blend of friendly chatter and angry drunken shouts.

  Nighttime had arrived, and though she now knew the horrors that lurked within the Woodlands at night, she preferred to be out there, free and imperiled. Anything could be better than this. The pain and exhaustion had gotten the better of her, and so she’d ended up sleeping for hours.

  What a day, she thought. What an awful cursed day…

  She heard footsteps approaching. Very familiar footsteps, the girl realized.

  Welcome back, you bastard…

  Captain Malekai Pahrvus entered the tent, looking as hostile as ever but slightly more worn out. “You done crying, girl?” was the first thing he asked, and already she cou
ldn’t bear his presence. He dropped a fresh bucket near her roped feet and a bit of water splashed on her boots. She didn’t give him the courtesy of a reply, nor did she meet eyes with the man. She simply waited, her neck turned away from him, her eyes locked on her bow resting over a pile of scrolls.

  Malekai bent to his knees and began untying her feet.

  “Still quiet, eh?” he asked. “So eager to use that tongue before. What’s the matter now?”

  Her jaw shuddered from the rage. Part of her was prepared to kick the man as soon as her feet were free, knowing very well it wouldn’t end great.

  Breathe, Robyn, she told herself. Be patient… Be smarter than him…

  “Look at me, Robyn,” he said, then waited a moment before untying her hands.

  When she refused to turn to him, he forced her by clasping her jaw viciously.

  He could feel it trembling, and she was worried he would mistake it for fear.

  “Look at me, I say!” he growled. “So nervy, you are… It’s starting to irritate me.”

  “I have nothing to say to you,” she finally spoke, though her throat was so dry it came across as more like a whisper.

  “I don’t believe you,” he shook his head. “I remember the first man that ever scarred me. Believe me, I had plenty to say to him… I wanted to kill the fucker. It was a shame someone got to him first.”

  He tightened his grip on her jaw, his sharp fingernails sinking into her skin. She was mere seconds away from spitting on him. And if it hadn’t been for that sinister eye of his, she would have done it already.

  “I’m gonna break you, Robyn,” he said menacingly. “Sooner or later, you’ll warm up to me…”

  Robyn waited a moment. Her feet were now free and she could very easily have landed a kick. Either he’s stupid or he’s testing you, she told herself. Either way, don’t do it… Not yet… Use your words instead.

  She opened her lips. His eager ears waited patiently as he grinned.

  “I’ll never stop,” she said, and her eyes were honest, firm, and unyielding. “You can burn me… You can hurt me… You can keep me roped and chained, but I will never stop running…”

  It was not the answer the captain was hoping for. And some of his grin lost its flare.