El-Vador's Travels (5 page)

It
was a small sortie of about twenty members, scouting ahead in the
hopes of uncovering the Elven settlements and hamlets tucked into the
mountainside. El-Vador watched them cautiously from the tree line.
'These are the creatures that slaughtered our kin?'

He
had found Cusband further up the track, his father had been in a
sorry state. They hadn't exchanged as much as a word between them
since he had come back, the knowledge that his father was a coward
who had run from the enemy was something that El-Vador had not been
ready to deal with.

His
father didn't take the question rhetorically. 'They are heavily
organised and very experienced in the matters of war, their
individual strengths may not match our own but as a group they have
strength unseen.'

'I
did not ask for the opinion of a coward.' El-Vador snapped, knowing
his father was in no condition to spar with him.

Cusband
seemed to take that in his stride. 'You may not think much of me any
more, that does not change the capabilities of our foe. We sent our
finest warriors against them and they bested us. Their actions speak
not of our weakness but of their strength.'

The
words rang true, regardless of whether his father had been cowardly
or not almost all the best warriors the settlement had to muster had
been annihilated by this force. El-Vador fought down the rising
sensation of fear, the knowledge that the invaders were probably too
great a force for his settlement to repel, that they would
undoubtedly reach the settlement before help arrived from deeper in
the mountains. He could see Cusband was right though, should the Orcs
find them their resistance would only lead to massacre.

Those
he had left behind were those too young or infirm to fight, none of
them had much weaponry beyond basic farming implements and even less
training in battle. They would be slaughtered if the Orcs reached
them, which is where this path was undeniably leading them toward.

The
marching was called to halt, Cusband cursed quietly, it was no
coincidence that they would cease right here.

The
Orc who had given the command strode out in front of his soldiers. A
long red braid affixed to the top of his helm singled him out as a
Commander of some kind, as none of the others were sporting it. He
marched out closer to their tree line and grunted out something in
his own language.

'He says they spotted us in the tree line and they ask us not to
flee.' said Cusband. He took a step out from forest and spoke in a
strange mixture of grunts that El-Vador was baffled to hear. Where
had his father learned how to speak the Orcish tongue? Furthermore,
why would he need to?

'This
Orcish dog claims that we are now the slaves of their Chief, an Orc
called Sarvacts. He says that the Elven lands belong to the Orcs by
right of conquest and that his Chief will be merciful if we come
peacefully.'

El-Vador
was surprised to see his father giving genuine consideration to the
words of an Orc, as if a green-skinned monster like that could be
trusted to leave any of their people alive.

That
this thing had the audacity to declare El-Vador's entire race a
conquered people boiled his blood, he stifled the urge to charge out
of the woods and attack the entire force head-on.

Cusband
continued to translate. 'They say that they will set up forts in
every settlement they find and require taxes and food from us in
exchange for peace.' Cusband gritted his teeth. 'If any should oppose
this they will torch the entire settlement.'

El-Vador's
grip tightened on the pommel of his sword, his father spotted it and
stilled his hand.

'Listen to me my son, we have no choice in this matter. If are to
decide between slavery or death I would rather be a slave with hope
than a dead man with none.'

His
words did not placate El-Vador, who bristled at the thought of being
a captive to such monsters. He stared out at them from the line of
trees and tried desperately to fight back his murderous urges.

The
Commander met El-Vador's expression through narrowed eyes, he clearly
knew that look. He raised his hand as if about to give some order.
El-Vador tensed, ready to hurl himself against the invaders should
they open fire upon him. Instead he lowered his hand and spoke a
single sentence, his eyes not leaving El-Vador's.

'He asks if you plan to charge him.' Cusband murmured to his son,
wondering the same thing and knowing he was powerless to prevent it.

Reluctantly,
El-Vador released the tension in his sword arm and let it rest at his
side once more. Although he gave every outward impression that he was
submitting to these beasts, he could never do so on the inside. That
undying will to be free reflected outward from his eyes at the Orcish
Commander who studied him with mild interest.

The
Orc spoke to Cusband again, in response the forester set his hand on
El-Vador's shoulder, seemingly as much to hold him back as to support
him.

Cusband
answered in Orcish, then spoke to El-Vador. 'He asked if you were my
son. I said that it was so.'

'Feel free to tell him that I will gut him before they can stick me
full of arrows.' replied El-Vador, his gaze not wavering from the
Commander. The words didn't need translated for the Orc to
understand.

'El-Vador,
should you lay a single hand upon him he will torch our entire
settlement when he finds it. You know as well as I where that path
leads, he will find it.'

Another
stream of words meaningless to El-Vador came from the Orcish officer.
'That was a warning,' said Cusband. 'He claims that while he has been
lenient with your attitude, Chief Sarvacts will not treat your
arrogant display so mercifully.'

The
Orcish officer spoke once more. 'He says his people have come here to
stay, and we had better get used to it,' said Cusband.

Liar!
El-Vador did not shout the word, but he wanted to. They would stay
for a time perhaps, maybe even take comfort in their new surroundings
and domination over the Elves. So long as there was still breath in
him, he would find a way to free his people.

Gurgash
and Harg stood guard with a Goblin sentry outside the makeshift
garrison that had been constructed by the first Elven settlement they
had encountered on their travels. Night was beginning to fall and the
Elves were retiring to their homes yet the Orcs were under strict
orders to guard the garrison constantly. This made for cranky shifts
and poor sleeping conditions but ultimately it was better than a slit
throat should their foes feel empowered by the lack of supervision.

'The
Commander doesn't trust these Elves,' the archer said, he had a knack
for speaking the obvious.

Harg
offered him a non-committal grunt in the hopes that he wouldn't
continue speaking for the duration of their shift.

'He has no reason to trust them.' Gurgash said, ignoring Harg's sigh.
'Did you not see the boy we encountered on the road? He was ready to
charge and gut the lot of us.'

'He wouldn't have got far.' said the Goblin. 'Still, I wouldn't like
to see a whole settlement up in arms like that, wouldn't make for a
pretty slaughter as they'd more than likely carve some of us up.'

'We're lucky that the rest of the Elves aren't like that boy then.'
Harg said, hoping to shut the conversation down. 'No point in
worrying about what won't happen.'

'Still, it wouldn't take too many with his attitude to make life
very difficult for us.' Gurgash replied, refusing to let the topic
go. He couldn't help but notice a distinct lack of Orcish champions
around the base, they all knew that but for their counter attack they
would have been killed in the previous battle.

The
Goblin archer pointed. The boy they had just been speaking of had
appeared out of the woods with a large boar slung over his back.

Gurgash
stared at him, jaw dropping in astonishment. 'Did you see the size of
that thing?'

'We saw it cousin, try not to look so surprised.' replied Harg in a
tired voice.

Gurgash
wasn't the only one amazed though, the Goblin sentry had fallen very
quiet and had aimed a distrustful look at the boy.

'Anyone
who can take down a boar by himself is more than capable of besting
one of us.' he said.

'A
Goblin perhaps.' said Harg dismissively. 'He'd struggle against more
experienced and larger opposition I think.'

'You mean you think you can take him?' asked the Goblin, clearly not
believing a word of it.

'It matters not who is stronger in battle.' answered Harg. 'It's all
about what you do and what you know and perhaps a bit of luck to best
your opponent. That child has not seen war, he might have passion and
youth on his side but he wouldn't fare well against a drilled
soldier.'

Gurgash
nodded, though he remained far from convinced.

The
Goblin was even less so. 'Killing boar every day for survival could
toughen a boy much like battle. Even our best hunters don't chase
after that kind of prey regularly.'

'Well I hope he comes after us then.' said Harg. 'That way we can
torch him and his settlement and be done with this damned sentry
duty.'

'No sentry duty?' Gurgash replied. 'That's something I'd be willing
to kill for.'

The
Goblin shrugged. 'Perhaps it would be like that for a while, then
before you know it we'd be moving even higher up the mountain and out
to the next sodding settlement. Nah, better to stay here where the
air is good and the people are conquered.'

Gurgash
still watched the boy as he walked back to the settlement. 'That boy
doesn't look conquered to me, I'm thinking he'll try to off someone
before we've been here a week.'

They
looked at one another then, even Harg. They were all thinking the
same thing in the back of their minds. What if it was one of them
that the boy went after?

El-Vador
sat silently as he watched the others cut up the carcass of the boar.
His mother had died in her sleep shortly after he had left the
settlement to search for his father. It had been a quiet funeral and
they couldn't afford much ceremony. Now it was just the two of them
alone together, one in a state of deteriorating grief and sickness
and he in a state of pure vengeance.

No
matter how often his father urged him not to fight against the Orcs
and to grow accustomed to their presence he refused. Though he did
not raise a weapon against his occupiers he fought them in his own
way, planning in his mind what he must do to be rid of them forever.
What he must do to exact revenge for their enslavement of his
now-docile people.

He
began learning Orcish. A long and painful process aided in part by
his father, he needed to understand his enemy in order to overcome
them. Everything he did now was obsessively bent to that end.

'We
have to do something.' he said to his father one day as the man lay
in bed, as feverish as his mother had once been. 'If we don't, this
occupation may become permanent.'

'We?' asked Cusband. 'Boy, I am wasting away. I feel my strength
being leached from this old wound. I urge caution first and will
offer you my mind if nothing else. We must take time to mourn the
loss of your mother and recover what we can of ourselves as life goes
on. There will come an opportunity eventually, son. When exactly it
shall present itself I do not know, it will come and you must be
ready.'

It
was getting increasingly difficult to wait for that time to arrive.
The days ground in as if attempting to irritate him, at those times
he would venture out into the forest and take out his frustrations on
whatever was living in there. So long as he brought back more game
the Orcs did not care where he ventured.

Cusband
seemed to understand where he had gone, in spite of his illness he
was still a proud man and felt he didn't need his son's help to
recover. He knew that the boy needed to venture out into the world
beyond that of Orcish control lest the same temperament he possessed
snap and spell disaster for the entire settlement. When El-Vador
returned, Cusband would query him about his hunting and correct him
on specifics, offering insight about how to strike and when. He knew
that it wasn't game that his son was thinking of hunting and prepared
him accordingly.

Time
marched on a pace and El-Vador continued to hunt, his hatred for the
Orcs unabated by its passage.

Silent
as the beasts he stalked, the young Elf slipped through the woods.
When he came to the edge of a clearing he went rigid as a statue, his
eyes scanning the area before he ventured out into the opening. He
was like so much emptiness, at one with the forest and gliding
through it without disturbing a branch.

Something
was speaking to him, but not in any way he had known before. It was
as if it echoed through his head endlessly, drawing him onward in
bedazzled fascination. He shook his head but it would not relent, the
sensation was one that he could do without. Like most things in these
woods he vowed to hunt it down and put an end to it.

His
father had urged him to go by this path for reasons unknown, it had
been a strange conversation, though the man's illness was making him
less lucid these days. A wariness stole over him, he knew every
inhabitant of this forest but he had not been in this part of the
woods before. Caution was a hunter's ally, he embraced it without
letting it control him utterly.

The
silence that followed was not one of concentration that he was
accustomed to. He was not mentally blocking out the external sounds
in order to track a single prey, this was different. As if his senses
and the surrounding forest noises had been smothered in pelts and
rendered dead and useless to him. It seemed unnatural to him, that
not a single creature would stir in this place that he had been sent
to.