The Gate - An Ancient Connection Page 6

  “I’ll be fine, Cressy. I’ll be back before nightfall and will visit you as soon as I return.” Decker grabbed hold of her hands and turned her toward him. Pilk caught sight of a small tear forming in his sister’s eye. He had rarely seen such a sight with his steely sister. Cressida wrapped Decker in a tight hug, and then pushed him back to arm’s length.

  “You had better or being spotted by orcs will be the least of your concerns.” That was more like the sister he knew, thought Pilk. As Decker turned to leave, Cressida turned him back to face her. “If you see Jaz and the boys around, tell them to return home at once.”

  “What mischief are they up too so early in the morning?” asked Decker.

  “I have no idea. They had already left when I awoke.” Decker nodded to Cressida and then to Pilk before he turned once more and walked off down the cobbled street.

  * * *

  Gerard awoke to the noise of the metal door down the hall being opened. Had he slept in? Was breakfast here already? If he had slept in, all the other men in the cell with him had done the same as they only now began to stir. He jumped down from his bunk bed and stretched out his muscles.

  Within minutes four orc guards stood at the entrance to his cell..

  “All off to an early start this morning, are we?” Gerard thought he noticed a slight grin on the orc in the rear but couldn’t be sure.

  “Not sure about you Gerry, but I always enjoy an extra-large breakfast when starting early,” replied Jeff, Gerard’s best friend and neighbour. The orc guards remained silent and beckoned to the men to come out of the cell. Gerard led the five men out and started following two of the guards down the dark corridor while the other two guarded the rear. Gerard paid no attention to the jeering and insults from the orc prisoners that had awoken because he had grown very much accustomed to it.

  A short while later they entered a dining hall with a long dining table full of food in the centre. Gilkan sat at the head of the table. Gerard noticed at once that he was dressed in fine black leather armour instead of his usual robes and the crown absent from his head.

  The orc certainly lived up to his title of the fierce one dressed like this. The armour had been intricately decorated with inlaid gold and well-fitted, covering every part of the mighty orc while not hindering his movement. He wore high rising, spiked spaulders that would protect him from attacks on either side of his head.

  As usual, his long black hair was tightly braided along with the hair on his chin which hung down to mid-neck height. The solid orc looked at Gerard with intense, unreadable grey eyes.

  “Is this to be our final meal?” The orc guardsled Gerard over to a seating position not too far from the mighty orc leader. The men were split up evenly and seated on either side of the long table.

  “Who can ever be sure which meal will be his last?” Gilkan the fierce one looked at him curiously.

  “A prisoner before being sent to his execution,” answered Gerard.

  “Perhaps. But does he give up hope that he’ll be rescued or that his sentence will change before being carried out?” asked Gilkan.

  “His ‘hope’ has little impact on the reality of the situation.” Gerard reached for some bread and broke it open, taking in the smell of the freshly baked roll.

  “Of course not. But did I not promise that your death will not come at our hand?” The orc leader picked up a large leg of a creature Gerard didn’t know and ripped a chunk of meat off the bone with his sharp teeth.

  “A dead man can no longer scream out for justice.” Gerard took a bite of the bread and savoured its flavour. He then proceeded to fill his plate with all manner of food, determined to nourish his body as much as possible for whatever lay ahead.

  “You still do not trust us after all these weeks?” shouted Gilkan furiously.

  “A lifetime of dealing with your kind is not easily washed away,” replied Gerard calmly.

  “You have never dealt with our kind!” Gilkan slammed his fist down on the table, rattling plates and cutlery. Gerard remained quiet and started eating his breakfast. The fierce one also returned to eating after staring at Gerard in contempt for some time.

  “Today you’ll be released,” said the fierce one suddenly after they had all eaten. The comment was unexpected and Gerard really had no idea what to say.

  “Back to our home world?” asked Jeff from the other side of the table.

  “No. You will be reunited with the others we hold captive where you will be given further instructions related to your release,” answered the fierce one.

  “You mean to release us on a world full of orcs no doubt many miles from the only way back to our own world?” The wicked grin on the orc’s face told Gerard the answer to his question. “So when you said no orcs of the Black Skull would kill us you were being truthful, but will give every opportunity to all the other tribes of this world.”

  A knock at the door and the arrival of General Krak’too and Great Shaman O’tukka stopped the conversation from progressing further.

  As usual the mighty general was in full, brown leather battle armour with the mark of a black skull on his chest along with the purple, red and yellow ribbons intertwined which signified his rank of general. His magically enchanted falchions hung easy by his side and even in the presence of his leader, he walked with a sure confidence.

  The great shaman by his side was intimidating for entirely different reasons. He was closer to the size of the smaller orcs of Ka’ton than these larger orcs, but walked as upright as a man of royalty. His deep black eyes seemed to hold some spell and Gerard always had to fight hard to block out the hopelessness he felt as he looked into them.

  He carried a tall staff with him with a large, polished purple gem mounted on top by the wood which was shaped like a crooked hand wrapping its fingers around the gem. The fearsome orc wore more jewellery than the women of the royal court, with a ring on every finger and a thick golden chain hung about his neck.

  Wearing a rich red robe which hung to the floor with gold trimmings and curving, black lines running from neck to foot, this orc would almost blend in amongst the wealthy people of any human city in Lertia if it wasn’t for his ugly, dark green face and protruding fangs. Even so, Gerard had to admit that the shaman’s features were finer and more defined than those of his tribe, which only served to make him stand out further and appear even more mysterious.

  “Right on time, General Krak’too,” said Gilkan rising to his feet.

  “As honoured as I am to be summoned, my fierce one, I am concerned our fort may be attacked while I am absent.” General Krak’too bowed his head slightly and walked to the head of the table to stand before Gilkan.

  “I am sure you have left a capable orc in command and I hope I will not delay you too long. Now Great Shaman O’tukka, can you create a gate to take us to Qunik?” Gilkan picked up some armoured, leather gauntlets from a nearby table and after putting them on he retrieved a mighty sword from an orc servant and slid it into the scabbard hanging from his hip.

  “Of course I can, fierce one.” O’tukka began casting a spell right away.

  “Why are we going to Qunik, fierce one?” asked Krak’too. A swirling magical gate appeared in front of the great shaman and glowed an eerie blue.

  “Because I have a surprise for you. Call it a reward for your efforts.” The fierce one smiled mischievously.

  “The gate is ready, fierce one,” announced O’tukka in his shrill voice.

  “Then let’s not waste any more time.” Orc soldiers surrounded Gerard and the other men and ushered them through the gate.

  * * *

  They had decided to wait for the sun to come up on this strange new world before continuing on and so had found a small unoccupied cave in the canyon to get some sleep.

  Vik realised that the time on this world must be a few hours behind their own as they had walked around the labyrinthine canyon for another hour before deciding to rest and the sun still had not risen.

  Sta
nding at the mouth of the cave and looking out over the vast canyon in the morning sun, Vik realised how big their mission was and how unlikely they were to succeed. They had no idea where captives may have been taken. Vik was accustomed to orcs living in caves in the mountains, but these orcs had shown their familiarity with construction in their fort and camp on either side of the Gate, so he had no idea where they may dwell. They could be hidden in any number of caves in this vast black, rocky canyon or they could have a city.

  Vik looked around for a while but could pick up no tracks, and with the ground as solid as it was this didn’t surprise him. Still he got the impression that the area had seen very little traffic and so on a hunch he went north which was his best guess as to a way out of the canyon.

  They ate some bread and cheese as they walked and travelled as silently as they could. All three of them were wide-eyed as they looked at their strange surroundings. The red sun shone a different light on this world and the black rock of the canyon was like none they had seen. It was as black as obsidian but dull and grainy. It was all around them, with very few patches of dirt or growth.

  The bushes and plant life they did see was strange and dangerous looking — shades of dark brown and murky green with wicked looking spikes and trap shaped leaves. Vik noticed an insect land on the leaf of a particular plant and it snapped closed in an instant. The pained noise of the trapped insect died out in short order as a black, sticky substance started oozing out of the closed leaf. Is everything on this planet hostile?

  After an hour or so of trudging steadily uphill, he halted and beckoned the others to do likewise. He had heard a noise; he was sure of it. They were nearing the top of the canyon and had been following a path that looked well worn. Tall, jagged walls loomed up on either side of them and the wide gorge was littered with large rocks on either side of the narrow pathway, obviously remnants of the slowly collapsing walls.

  Vik ducked in behind a boulder with the other two hot on his heels. Just when he thought he may have been imagining the noise, he heard a few footsteps not far from their location and they were gradually becoming louder. He peered around the corner of the rock which afforded him a view of the path. A moment later he saw two orcs walk by.

  He heard them walk on a few paces and stop. One of the orcs spoke but Vik couldn’t understand him. His father had taught him a few orcish words and planned on teaching him more of the orcish language but never got around to it.

  The other orc said something quietly in reply. The hairs on Vik’s arms started to rise all of a sudden and a tingling sensation went through his body; he took this as a warning and so started moving deeper into the mass of rocks as quietly as possible. Trent and Jaz followed him closely.

  A moment later he noticed an overhang in the gorge wall surrounded by a cluster of large rocks. He crept in quietly under the overhang and was relieved to find a small cubby. It was just large enough for all three of them to squish into.

  Vik was painfully aware of the fact that if they were discovered here, they had nowhere to go and would be at the orcs’ mercy, but he held faith that they wouldn’t search thoroughly enough to find them.

  Time slowly passed and he hadn’t heard any other noises. He tapped Jaz on the shoulder as she was at the entrance to the cubby and signalled for her to have a quick look.

  Jaz carefully extended her head around the corner. Suddenly she tensed and screamed. Vik heard some loud scuffling on the other side of the rock and watched on in horror as Jaz was dragged from the cubby.

  Vik drew his short sword and watched Trent do the same. A moment later Jaz screamed out for them to run. As Vik followed Trent out of the cubby, he saw an orc lying on the ground just outside, obviously alive but unable to move. Vik stabbed him in the neck on the way by, not wanting this orc to follow them or alert others of their whereabouts.

  Jaz and Trent stopped so suddenly that he almost inadvertently stabbed Trent in the leg. Looking past them, he could see what had forced them to a halt. The other orc had appeared from around the corner up ahead and was slowly stalking in at them. They had nowhere to go — it was a dead end behind them and this orc was blocking the way out.

  “Climb the rocks,” shouted Vik. It was a longshot. The orc would be upon them before they were out of his reach, so he stayed down while his friends climbed; hopefully buying them the time they needed to escape.

  The orc hesitated; obviously trying to decide whether he should try to bring Trent and Jaz down or confront him. He chose the latter and charged Vik with his axe high over his head. Due to the confined space it was all the orc could do. Vik’s short sword was better suited for the narrow pathway and he planned on making the most of that advantage.

  The orc swung his axe down in an attempt to cleave Vik in two, but Vik was too quick for that and jumped back out of range, jabbing back with his sword before the orc could recover and scoring a minor hit on the orc’s right arm. The orc jumped back and held his axe before him ready to block any pursuing attack.

  Vik didn’t pursue. The enemy approached him with a bit more caution this time and pulled out a long dagger as he stalked in towards Vik. With a wicked grin he threw his axe behind him and jabbed his dagger toward Vik’s throat.

  Vik easily swatted the attack aside, turned his wrist and made a reverse swing at the orc. His attack missed the orc’s chest by a hair’s breadth as the orc leant back. Thinking the orc off balance, Vik wasn’t prepared for the orc’s kick which knocked the wind out of him and pushed him back a few steps. Vik found himself standing on top of the dead orc, making his footing treacherous.

  Realising this, the orc came in more aggressively and went into a basic high-low routine. Vik had been trained by his father who was arguably one of the best sword fighters in Lertia, and was currently training with Decker who was almost as skilled, so parrying the basic attacks of the short bladed weapon was not a problem for him despite his unbalanced footing.

  But he was in trouble as he backed into a dead end, and he couldn’t afford to keep giving ground like this. It was his turn to make the aggressive manoeuvres and so set his feet and blocked the orc’s next attack firmly. He pointed his left finger at the orc and concentrated hard, softly muttering the incantation Master Pilk had taught him.

  It was a longshot as he had not been able to get the magic missile spell to work despite Master Pilk’s intensive training, but ‘desperate times called for desperate measures’ his father had always said to him.

  Vik’s surprise was as genuine as the orc’s when a spark of magical energy shot out from his finger and hit the orc in the chest. The magic missile was weak and the orc barely twitched when it struck him, but it had served its purpose. Vik made the most of the distraction and went into his own furious offensive, angling his slices from shoulder to hip and forcing the orc back.

  He was preparing to jab the orc when a form dropped from behind his target. The orc stiffened before dropping his dagger and collapsing. Trent stood before him, holding a bloody sword in his shaky hands. Vik looked down at the orc and noticed the blood flowing freely from the wound in his neck.

  “Nice one,” said Vik as Trent lowered his weapon.

  “You were great, Vik. I can’t believe you stood your ground against him and you managed a spell too. I didn’t even realise you could manage anything beyond a glowing finger.” Trent’s excited chatter came out so fast that Vik had trouble understanding him.

  “We would have been easy targets had we all climbed the rock and I was also surprised my spell worked as it had never done so before, but I had to try something as he had the upper hand on me.” Trent wiped his sword clean on the dead orc’s pants and slid it back in his scabbard. Vik tried to catch his breath and steady his hands as he sheathed his own blade.

  “Well it worked that’s for sure.” Jaz dropped down beside Trent and looked at the two dead orcs before turning to Vik.

  “Nice work. I can see your father taught you well and Uncle Pilk’s training has not been wasted.
” Jaz smiled cheekily.

  “I didn’t defeat him. That was Trent’s smart thinking and what happened to that first orc?” Vik pointed toward the orc lying closer to the cubby.

  “I paralysed him.” Jaz wore a smile from ear to ear.

  “Paralysed him? How?” asked Trent before Vik could ask the same question.

  “It’s a minor cantrip really. It comes in handy when an injured patient won’t stay still while you’re working on them,” explained Jaz.

  “Nice work. I see your mother has taught you well,” replied Vik.

  * * *

  “You’re trying to tell me that these large orcs and humans once lived on a world together, Master Pilk?” asked Duke Angus after Pilk had told him all about his discussions with Grand Master Reibeck.

  “It’s a possibility, my lord. The reliability of the information in these books is questionable, but there are far too many coincidences for my liking to dismiss them altogether.” Pilk looked into the duke’s dark brown eyes and could easily determine that he wasn’t convinced.

  “And you say these books tell of a time when orcs and humans were at peace?” Pilk had asked the same question when Grand Master Reibeck first told him. He found it as hard to believe as what Duke Angus did now.

  “They were not only at peace, my lord, but they were allies in the war against giant kin.” Master Pilk was hazy on all the details himself and was only passing on what his mentor had told him. Grand Master Reibeck had shown him snippets of passages in his books to support his claims but Pilk had yet to read these books in their entirety.

  “Giant kin?” asked Duke Angus, the exact question Pilk expected.

  “Yes, these books tell of a race of giants. Ogres were known to be the smallest and least intelligent of the giant race and were mainly used as slaves. Then there were forest giants, hill giants, fire giants and mountain giants. The mountain giants were the largest, apparently three times the height of an average human. Fire giants lived in volcanic plains and possessed strong fire magic. Hill giants were the smartest and had magic which could control the earth — open up the ground, create dust storms, produce earthen spikes from the ground — that sort of thing. Forest giants dwelt in dense forests full of large trees and actually had a gentler side to them. They would look after animals and could communicate with them and heal them with their magic.” Pilk was very intrigued about this giant race and had asked Grand Master Reibeck many questions concerning them. He looked forward to reading about them in the books his mentor had loaned to him and finding out more about them.