El-Vador's Travels (8 page)

Eventually
he caught sight of the first one as it bounded toward him, snow
parting from the eagerness of its gait. A mixture of desire, hunger
and excitement could be seen in its eyes as it drew closer, it knew
that its prey wouldn't leave its sight and the long chase was at an
end.

The
pack leader leaped. El-Vador let fly. The coated arrow sped forth
with deadly intent, unerringly on target and hissing through the
winter air. A conflagration lit up the woods as the arrow found its
home in the wolf's hide, the beast seemed to twist in the air in
agony as it was wreathed in crimson flames. El-Vador watched
dumbfounded as the fire raced across the pelt of the wolf and grew
brighter with each passing moment, going from red to yellow and now
to an unbearably bright white that was almost impossible to see in
the snow. Then the detonation hit, a vast booming noise that burst
through El-Vador's ears and left them ringing. He stared down at his
mangled hands and stifled a scream, then laughed instead as the
yelping noises retreated from what was left of his hearing. The blood
that stained him was not his own, the wolf had been torn apart by the
arrow and its remnants were splattered over him like a gruesome
trophy.

The
hunted turned hunter and loped after the retreating pack of wolves,
he may not have another coated arrow but he could be perfectly deadly
with those that remained in his quiver. He and his father would have
plenty of meat tonight.

'What
in the blue hells happened to you out there?' his father demanded
when El-Vador finally returned, his face a strange mixture of anger
and concern.

El-Vador
recalled the explosion. Yes, he still looked as if he had been mauled
by some great beast. 'Worry not father, the blood is not my own. I
have been busy testing our new weapon.' he said smugly, setting down
the few kills he had poached from the hunting of the remaining
wolves.

Cusband
looked over the kills with obvious hunger, this had been an
unexpected bounty. 'What happened when you let loose the arrow?' He
finally asked.

'It cooked the outer hide of the beast with flames before detonating
its innards and leaving a crater in the snow the size of a small
homestead.' answered El-Vador, recounting his story in full then to a
disbelieving Cusband.

After
El-Vador finished his tale, his father was silent for some time.

'This
is a powerful weapon you hold,' the older Elf mused, 'one that was
gifted to you alone.'

El-Vador
couldn't believe what he was hearing, he had not expected his father
to talk of the beast even in vague terms. Cusband wasn't done
speaking though.

'You
could destroy entire structures alone with such power. You would be
an army of one for as long as the phial lasted.'

El-Vador's
chest swelled to hear his father speak of him so, if he was a one man
army he knew exactly who his first victims would be. 'I will
slaughter them father, drive every last one of them from our lands
for good.'

His
father looked at him oddly then in appraisal. 'I no longer doubt that
you would be capable of such an act.' he replied. 'Leave at least one
alive to tell the tale to those who would encroach our lands in
retribution for the loss you would inflict upon them.'

He
shook his head in slow wonder, then caught himself, as if realising
it was his son he was speaking to. 'Let's go sort this meat out and
cook ourselves a stew after you're done washing yourself.'

'Agreed.' El-Vador said, for the first time since his mother had
passed he found reason to smile.

Mugrab's
farm had done well enough considering the mountainous winter. He had
a sufficient amount to feed himself with if he remained frugal and
for that he was grateful.

He
ventured out to the fort that the young Elf had spoken of to see how
large it had become since he had first passed it.

The
journey had not been the kindest he had faced but he struggled along
regardless, knowing that the terrible conditions would keep any Elven
retribution from striking him. He didn't dare hope that they were all
as merciful as the first one he met had been. It was the wolves that
Mugrab was more concerned about, he couldn't afford an armed escort
and was taking a real chance in these conditions.

As
if his thoughts had conjured them, a number of what looked to be
Orcish warriors came round a bend in the road directly ahead of him.

One
of them gave him a wave of mutual respect, another decided to engage
him verbally, 'Still on your feet I see, farmer.'

'That I am, soldier.' replied Mugrab, nodding at the rest of the
well-armed group, they must have thought him foolish for travelling
alone. Then again, perhaps he was.

The
soldiers clattered onward past him and before he knew it he was alone
once more, not that it bothered him. He continued forward with
measured strides, using the trampled snow of the soldiers to his
advantage. So did his ox, with slow, patient and uncomplaining
strides.

The
small fortification he had left behind had now sprawled out into a
reasonably sized settlement, the fort in question had been completely
rebuilt and expanded upon with additional fortifications and several
barracks to serve the swelling numbers of troops in the area. Whether
the Elves liked it or not their occupiers were here to stay, it gave
him confidence in his venture out onto the frontier, to have so much
military might within a few days walking distance.

As
the farmer came into town, he saw an Orcish champion following a page
who carried new reigns for a horse, elsewhere there was hubbub of
activity all centred around equipping and maintaining the steadily
increasingly number of champions in the area and the grunts they held
command over.

Mugrab
made his way through the makeshift settlement, purchasing bits and
pieces for the return journey and hoping to coincide his venturing
back into the wilderness with an armed escort of some kind.

He
paused briefly as a group of soldiers led manacled Elven captives
toward the stronghold. They must have been dissidents that could not
live under Orcish rule, now they would suffer for it with slavery for
the rest of their days.

Mugrab
continued to shop in spite of the unsettling scene, he was a
practical man and knew how the world worked, he realised the Orcs and
Elves couldn't come to any agreement without one conquering the
other. Casualties of such conflict were unfortunately inevitable.

Eventually
he tired of acquiring new things and decided to wet his beard.
Striding inside the nearest tavern he ordered a mug of ale.

When
the Orc finished that first mug of ale, he bought himself a second,
when that was done he left the tavern, he couldn't afford to get
drunk at a time like this. He had his supplies and now he needed to
be getting home before the dark settled over the land.

By
the time the dark greeted him he was within a mile of his own land,
that was when the attack came.

An
arrow hissed past his face and thudded into the tree to his left. He
clutched his staff and stared in the direction from which the shaft
had come. He saw nothing and cursed his poor eyesight.

There
was no sense in standing still and waiting for the next arrow, he
moved toward the sound with his staff hefted in the hope of scaring
the brigand out of the woods.

El-Vador
emerged from the trees, a sardonic smile upon his face. 'You seem
like you want to die, walking straight toward bow fire like that.' he
said. 'If I had been you I would have made for the trees, less likely
to get struck by a second arrow.'

'Why do you shoot at me?' asked Mugrab. 'I thought our quarrel was
over.'

El-Vador
only smiled. 'If our quarrel was not over, my arrow would not have
missed you.' then his smile faded. 'You still have not left my lands
yet.'

'You're right, I haven't yet.' Mugrab said. 'We've had this
conversation already, either shoot me and be done with it or leave me
to my farming.'

Only
after he had spoken did he realise the finality of what he had just
said.

El-Vador
studied him for a time, weighing his words. 'You do not fear death?'
he asked at last.

'Fear it? Of course I do.' said Mugrab. 'It's putting up with the
uncertainty of not knowing whether you're going to kill me or not
that's irritating me most.'

The
smile was back on El-Vador's face. 'You are an impatient man.' said
the Elf. 'I will not shoot you.' Mugrab relaxed somewhat, that still
didn't explain why the boy had been tailing him though. Then the Elf
added. 'No, I won't shoot you until the time for vengeance has
arrived. You need to leave these lands before then.'

Before
Mugrab could respond, El-Vador had vanished into the woods.

El-Vador
stood on a hilltop now, watching the cattle attempting to graze
through the snow without much luck.

Something
flew past overhead. El-Vador did not pay much heed. There was no use
in shooting at birds from such a great distance, a waste of an arrow.
It was then that the flying thing soared down to the earth and landed
upon one of the cattle. It let out a howl that sounded nothing like a
bird.

Whatever
the creature struggling to lift the cow into the air was, it was no
bird.

Its
huge wings were black and pitted with corrosion, while a pair of
pointed ears pricked up above its fiercely glowing red eyes. When it
snarled, it showed a mouth full of teeth like razors and knives.

Stringing
his bow in response was the matter of a moment. Letting fly took even
less time. His arrow was straight and true, and sank to the fletching
in the flying thing's chest.

It
dug deep and yet the creature kept flapping, completely ignorant of
El-Vador's attack and still trying to take off with the distressed
animal. El-Vador shot again, none of these arrows were coated, he was
too close to the settlement to use such weapons and didn't think he'd
be needing them. The second shaft landed by the first, sinking just
as deeply. No normal living thing could have withstood such an attack
without even noticing.

'What manner of beast are you?' cried El-Vador. He drew closer now
and took aim at one of the creature's wings, the arrow finally caused
it to pay heed to him.

The
foul stench of it made him retch, he shot another arrow directly into
the creature's skull, it slumped over dead and dissipated into
nothingness.

Having
driven off the demon, and with the cow still standing, he returned to
the hill top to muse over what he had just seen.

'This
was a test,' a familiar basso voice rumbled as if from inside his
head. 'When next you are out in the world, you shall have the phial
with you and when you are next attacked you will use it.'

'And if I do not?' asked El-Vador, not appreciating having his head
invaded.

There
was no further response from the creature he had met in the cave.
Shaken, El-Vador returned home.

They say that to defeat your enemy you must first know him as you
know yourself. I believe this is erroneous, you need not know your
foe so completely. You merely have to understand enough to overcome
any opposition they could present.

C
hief
Sarvacts hated the cold of the mountains. He had been brought up in
and soldiered in hotter climes and being stuck out here in the harsh
permanent winter of the mountainside brought a chill to his bones
that he couldn't seem to shift.

Almost
everything that had to do with the Elven lands left Sarvacts cold. He
had sent word to his superiors that he had claimed the lands and was
hoping for them to send out a new Commander to take it from there. No
replacement had been forthcoming. Apparently they wanted him to
remain out here forever for his crimes, a fate better than some he
could imagine but still lacking in many other ways.

There
were reasons, good reasons, why Sarvacts had been sent beyond the
Orcish frontier, why he was unlikely to ever be welcome in civilised
lands ever again. He spent most of his time brooding over that, his
temperament was foul even for an Orc and the result had been this
permanent exile. Could he really have done anything differently? His
one solace was that he doubted it, he had been driven into action and
no force on this world could have prevented his slaughter. It was
that same attitude that had won him these lands from the hated Elves.

It
was too late for worrying over such things anyhow, he had made his
bed when he was soaked in the elder family's blood, now he just had
to make the best of a bad situation.

Sarvacts
tried throwing himself into the administration of the lands his
soldiers had seized from the Elves. For a few weeks he had bellowed a
stream of directives that his scribes had hastily written down for
the various commanders throughout the mountainous region. Then that
burst of activity also slackened. The various commanders knew enough
to keep their men alert and well fed and healthy without Sarvacts'
telling them to do so. Though none of them told him quite so bluntly,
Sarvacts was not an unintelligent Orc, he knew when his interference
would be more a hindrance than anything else.

Having
said that, if he chose to ride forth to investigate whether the
garrison commanders were doing all they said they were to keep the
lands safe and under control, none could gainsay him.

And
if, on that tour, he chose to inspect and investigate certain other
matters, who could gainsay him?

No
one at all.

Gurgash
was taking his turn at sentry duty outside the Orcish fort.
Everything there was quiet, which suited him down to the ground. If
the Elves got used to the idea that they had been beaten, they were
less likely to retaliate against the poor grunts posted here.