by Sam Ferguson
Kiuwa folded his arms, a seemingly harmless gesture that Torgath knew only too well put the big man’s hands within reach of two concealed daggers. If the guards tested his patience, they would pay for it with their lives. Torgath flicked his eyes toward the battlements, but no one above had seemed to take notice of them.
“Those papers are signed by your king. We are to have safe passage, and be allowed to stay within the walls,” Kiuwa replied.
“The king would never sign such orders,” one of the guards cried out.
Torgath cleared his throat, starting to chafe at the fact no one was addressing him directly. The officer glanced his way but looked back to Kiuwa.
“If you suspect that we forged the seal, then arrest us, otherwise, let us pass,” Kiuwa said. Torgath grinned, for he knew where Kiuwa was going with this. “However, if you arrest us, you’ll be announcing that the royal papers and seals are so easy to forge that even an orc could do it.” Kiuwa leaned forward and lowered his tone so that Torgath could just barely hear him. “You wouldn’t want that kind of idea making its way around town now would you?”
The guard checked the papers once more, then looked to Torgath and shook his head. “No, you’re right. No orc could forge these papers.”
“Someone else might,” one of the other guards commented.
The captain shook his head. “No one sophisticated enough to reproduce royal papers would be inclined to associate with an orc.” He rolled the papers and then smacked them into Kiuwa’s chest. “Stick to the outer district. There is an inn called the Hogfroth. Arrange for your lodging there. Once inside the gate, take the first road on your right. Any dalliance from my instructions and I will have the town guard hunt you down, are we clear?”
Kiuwa nodded and unfolded his arms. “Perfectly.” He took the papers in hand and the three of them waited for the guards to open the gates.
Torgath dismounted and walked his horse through, making a point of staring at the guards from behind his mask. The youngest of them was only a boy, perhaps seventeen years old and still scrawny. The guard’s eyes widened as Torgath passed, taking in the orc’s sheer size and no doubt wondering what exactly the mask hid from view.
The orc followed the Kuscans down the first road on the right, passing by a couple of drunken men stumbling their way through the street, filling the air with their wretched singing and oblivious to the trio. Others were not so unaware, a pair of streetwalkers eyed the two Kuscans and then bent close, whispering to each other before giggling and then turning their attention to Torgath.
One of them, a curvy red head with a low cut dress -- if one could call it that for it was barely more than a corset and ragged skirt that covered the essentials-- started to call out and approach, but Tui gave a shake of his head and waved his hand to dismiss her. The streetwalkers scowled, but ceased their attempts to lure the men in.
They passed several squalid houses, most of them one or two stories tall with the occasional three story building with a shop on the main floor. When they found the Hogfroth, even Tui sniffed in disgust. The stench of urine greeted them from the alley beside the inn, and the smell coming from the open doorway was hardly better; smoke and cheap alcohol mixed with the acidic tinge of old vomit.
“Hogfroth seems an apt name,” Kiuwa stated wryly.
“I’ll secure a room,” Tui said. “Or we could press on and camp beyond the city tonight.” He turned and looked at Torgath for approval.
Torgath shook his head. “I have business here,” he said.
Kiuwa frowned. “That’s the first I’ve heard mention of it.”
Tui sniffed once more and then disappeared through the open doorway.
Torgath pulled a pair of coins from his purse and entered the Hogfroth. His eyes scanned the room taking in card games, dice games, a soothsayer in shiny robes waving her hands over a glass ball, and several groups of men eating supper and smoking. After a bit, his gaze settled upon a young boy leaning against the far wall of the main hall. A rag, gray with age and use, dangled from his pocket and the expression on the young man’s face told Torgath that the boy had lost interest in watching the patrons long ago. “Call that boy over to me,” Torgath said, pointing to the young man.
Kiuwa nodded and went off to complete his task. He and the young man returned to Torgath at the same time Tui returned holding a key to a room.
“The rate is cheap,” Tui said with a grin. “Three silvers.”
The young man scrunched up his nose and looked to Tui. “My uncle charges others three coppers,” he said. “He doesn’t like Kuscans though, he used to be a merchant marine until he lost his left leg at the hands of Kuscan pirates.”
Tui’s grin faded. “He tripled the price?”
The young man nodded.
Tui turned around to head back to the inn keeper, but Torgath reached out and seized the large man by the shoulder. “Let the man keep the silver. I’ll pay the difference back to each of you.” Tui relented, but grumbled under his breath. Torgath ignored the comments and addressed the young man. “You disagree with your uncle?”
The young man nodded. “Just because a pirate who happened to be Kuscan took my uncle’s leg doesn’t make all Kuscans bad.”
Torgath offered a nod. “Uncommon to find one so young with wisdom. Now tell me, what if the pirates had been orcs?”
The young man’s face turned sour and he shook his head. “That’s different. There aren’t good orcs to be found, they were created from evil, and that’s all they can ever be.”
Tui and Kiuwa both looked to Torgath with wide eyes and sucked in their breaths.
Torgath narrowed his eyes on the boy and tilted his head slightly. Perhaps it was too much to think the boy might apply wisdom to all races. “Well,” Torgath said as he held up his two gold coins. “I happen to have a job for someone as honest and forthright as you have shown yourself to be.”
The boy’s eyes lit up and he stood rigid, hands itching to snatch the coins. “Name it, and I’ll do it.”
Torgath nodded, knowing full well that the boy could work for a full year and not make half of what he offered him. “Half now, and half more when you return.” Torgath slipped one gold into his pocket and deposited the other into the young man’s hand. Then he reached for a small envelope sealed with green wax. “Deliver this to Master Hawking, and then bring me his reply.”
The boy took the letter and examined the blank envelope. “You mean the old knight?”
Torgath nodded. “Do you know where to find him?”
“He lives in a house adjacent to the town guard barracks. Everyone knows him. I’ll deliver this right now.” The young man started to take a step but then stopped and examined Torgath’s mask. Torgath waited patiently for the young man’s courage to build. “Mister, why do you wear a mask?”
“My face does not have a pleasing appearance for most people,” Torgath said. It was the same answer he had given countless times before. It was both honest enough to put the conversation to rest, yet ambiguous enough that the inquirer could draw their own conclusions. The orc assumed that most people settled on some sort of disfigurement from battle, or perhaps a birth defect, but very few ever realized what he truly meant, and those that did made sure to keep their opinions to themselves.
The young man rushed off just as the inn keeper called out for him.
“Be back soon, uncle!” the boy hollered as he sprinted out the door.
“Well isn’t that a fine way to talk to your uncle,” the inn keeper grumbled, slamming his towel down on the bar in front of him.
The trio ordered food and drink and then made their way up the stairway to their room. Several of the wooden planks squeaked and others were in desperate need of repair, but the room itself was intact. The door was made of sturdy oak, and the lock still worked. The group gathered around a small wooden table. Torgath removed his mask and placed it beside his bowl of stew and worked his jaw a bit, enjoying the freedom. The three of them ate their meager
dinner of fish stew and ale. None of them spoke until the food was finished.
“This knight, who is he?” Tui asked.
Torgath dabbed the corner of his mouth and grunted. “He owes me a favor,” Torgath said. “Some years ago I completed a task he could not do.”
“He didn’t pay you?” Kiuwa pressed.
Torgath held up a hand. “Some deeds do not require payment.” Torgath would have preferred to let it drop there, but the two Kuscans looked at him with such incredulity, he felt he needed to clarify. “My honor precluded me from taking payment, and his honor precluded him from accepting the assistance without offering something in return. He swore that in the future if I ever needed something, I could come to him for it.”
“What did you do, rescue his wife from a monster?” Tui asked.
Torgath nodded. “Something like that,” he said.
The two Kuscans ceased their teasing and both offered a deferential nod. They didn’t know Torgath’s entire history, but they knew enough to realize when they had erred in judgment or pressed a joke too far.
“What is it you asked him for?”
“A map,” Torgath replied. “He knows a small, seldom-used pass through the mountains we must cross to reach the forbidden lands. It will make our journey shorter, and preserve the precious supplies we will need to purchase at our next waypoint.”
Tui and Kiuwa both nodded and shoveled spoonfuls of stew into their mouths. Tui started to speak, but since he was only half-finished chewing his food Torgath lifted a hand and frowned in disgust. Tui closed his mouth, chewed a couple of times and then swallowed, but his slightly knitted-brow and his flatter tone told Torgath that the Kuscan didn’t much care for being corrected.
No matter. As far as his arrangement with Teolang was concerned, they were hired hands, not friends whose feelings required concern.
“You sure you don’t want to take us with you after the pass?” Tui asked.
Torgath shook his head, noting the subtle yet sharp look of reproof Kiuwa shot his brother. “No, that part of the journey must be undertaken alone.”
“But who will write your story, and sing your ballads should you be victorious?” Tui said as he leaned back in his chair and drained the last of his ale.
Torgath almost laughed at the thought. “Firstly, there is no question of if. I will be victorious.”
Tui patted the air in mock apology.
The orc continued. “Second, the last time someone tried to chronicle my quests, it didn’t end well for them. And third, it matters not that the world will never know of my quest. I care only that my god will know them, and count me worthy to stand with him.”
Tui’s playful smile shrank and the three each became lost in their own thoughts.
After a while, a knock came at the door. Torgath replaced his mask on his face and then nodded for the two Kuscans to open the door. Despite expecting the young man to return and seek them out, each of the three readied a weapon in case it was someone else looking for trouble instead.
Tui opened the door and there stood the young man, but Torgath immediately felt his heart sink. The boy’s face was cut just above his left cheekbone, the jagged, gaping wound of a heavy punch over the sharp bone. His clothes had tears in them, and dirt covered him from head to toe. Torgath then glanced to the young man’s hand and saw the bloody knuckles. The orc grinned behind the mask, knowing the boy had fought his attackers. More than that, the boy had managed to hold onto the prize.
A rolled, though slightly damaged, map was in the young man’s left hand.
“What happened to you?” Torgath asked as he stepped forward to pay the young man the rest of the promised sum.
“Sorry for being slow, sir. I was delayed, but I was given this by Sir Hawking, and now I give it to you. He says he cannot come to you in person, but appreciates all that you have done for him.”
Kiuwa and Tui exchanged a glance and then visibly relaxed, moving back to the table and breaking out a game of small dice and bones.
“And who did this to you?” Torgath asked, pointing to the young man’s face.
“It isn’t anything, sir, honest. I gave almost as good as I got.”
Torgath tilted his head to the side. “Almost?”
The young man shrugged. “They got my gold coin, but that’s my own stupid fault for taking it along in the first place. Still, the second one is more than I have ever had in my lifetime. I came out on top in the end.”
Honest, courageous, and optimistic. Torgath’s grin grew to a full smile. “Tell me where this happened.”
The young man scratched the back of his neck. “Really, it isn’t worth worrying about. I tried to take a shortcut to be quick, and went through the wrong part of town, that’s all.”
“This isn’t the wrong part of town?” Tui commented.
The young man frowned and shook his head. “No. We may not have much here, but the streets here are safe enough. The gray quarter is a whole other world though, filled with the wrong kind of people.”
Torgath reached out and laid a heavy hand on the young man. “I know this city,” he said. “Tell me where they were, and describe them to me.”
“Not worth the trouble,” Kiuwa said sternly. “You heard the guards. We’re to stay here for the night.”
Torgath gave a gentle squeeze on the boy’s shoulder. The young man told him everything he knew, and then quickly repeated that it wasn’t worth fussing over, and that he was quite happy to even receive one gold piece. Torgath sent him away and then closed the door and turned back to the two Kuscans.
“You can’t go after them,” Tui said. “You’re too easy to recognize.”
“Nor can I let this injustice stand,” Torgath said.
“Then pay him another gold piece,” Kiuwa offered. “I’ll offset the cost from my own wages if need be. I don’t see how your honor is going to be served by fighting guards and putting a bounty on my head.”
Torgath shook his head. “The young man has too much honor in him for me to let this go.”
“The boy doesn’t like orcs, remember?” Tui put in frankly, crossing his arms.
“Call the inn keep up here, have him wear my mask and clothes. Seat him in the chair in the back corner of the room.”
“What for?” Tui asked.
“As a decoy in case the guards come to check on us,” Kiuwa guessed.
Torgath nodded and removed his mask. “I am betting the inn keeper will do it for a few extra silver, and if not, then inform him that we know he’s extorting a higher price from us and he either gives us what we want or we take our money back.”
“Again, not looking for a bounty on my head,” Tui said.
Torgath set his mask on the table and began removing his clothes. “My decision is made. You are free to leave if you so desire, but then you forfeit your contract from this moment.” The orc went to his bag and removed black clothes made of linen, complete with a hood and face mask. By the time he was dressed, every inch of his orcish body was concealed. The two Kuscans reluctantly agreed to Torgath’s plan just before the orc slipped out the window and climbed to the street below.
Under the cover of night, Torgath easily made his way through the darker alleyways. He avoided patrolling guards and slipped past people in the streets as though he were made of wind. Little had changed since the last time he had snuck through the streets, after rescuing Master Hawking’s wife and two daughters. He had even used this very same route through the gray quarter that the young man had described, making his path easy. The fact that he wasn’t also concealing an adult human woman and her two adolescent children made the journey much less complicated.
He darted from one alley to the next, slipping from shadow to shadow, until he came to the gray quarter. There he slowed his pace, searching for men lying in ambush. One gold piece was a decent haul for thieves in these parts, but not so great that they would retire for the night. No, they would be out on the prowl as surely as his lower tusks ached fo
r their blood.
After several minutes of searching, Torgath came across a pair of men standing just inside an alley on the opposite side of the street. With his ability to see more clearly in the dark, he could watch them without coming close enough to give away his own position. He crouched low and studied them. Their builds were similar to the men the young man had described, but there were only two. There should be four.
Soon, Torgath realized these men were after a different kind of prize. They spotted a woman exiting a nearby tavern with an unmarked parcel that gave off a faint clanking sound as she walked. Given the way the two started to fidget excitedly, rubbing their hands like a beggar would over a fire, Torgath gathered the parcel contained bottles of quickening, a cheap drug that was peddled in shady corners of the cities in this area. A package like that was likely worth a pretty penny, but these addicts were looking to get their high for free tonight. Torgath looked to the woman as she put up her hair and drew her hood up over her head. She looked frightened, and almost turned back into the tavern when a greasy looking fellow stepped out and made a gesture across his neck. As she began walking in their direction, the two men took knives from their pockets. He was certain they weren’t planning on a snatch and run. His mission wasn’t this one, but he wasn’t about to let this take place when he was so close to it either. The woman was clearly stuck in a situation she had no way out of.
Without waiting for the woman to get close, he circled back around two houses and crossed the street when he was certain the men were solely absorbed with the location of the package of drugs. He entered an alley parallel to the would-be thieves and then dashed behind the houses until he reached their hiding spot. Despite Torgath’s nearly three hundred pounds of body mass, he was as silent as a cat stalking a rat through the rubbish. He crept closer to the men, near enough that he could hear them.
“Looks like Kaspar’s got himself a new mouse to carry the cheese. Snap her in the trap and run off with the bait, I say,” the man nearest the street said.