CHAPTER SIX
For two days and nights Gnak watched the happenings of the humans. Theirs was a simple and stupid life of feeding animals they had captured, and cutting down more weeds to feed the animals they had captured. Of course, it made his nightly hunting very simple. Even with a full belly and plenty of sleep, however, his condition worsened by the day. The swelling in his face had already spread to his neck, and for more than a day his head had a drumming within it that would not stop. His opportunity was fading with each day he delayed. If he waited much longer he would not make the return journey himself. It was a risk he could not take.
He had seen Jen nearly all day every day, watching from his hidden perch within the building. It was her job to pick up the bundled grasses and place them into a cart pulled by a stubborn four-legged beast similar to those rode by the human warriors. Daily she struck her little brother, a little harder than the day before, and daily she healed him flawlessly. He even knew that she relieved herself behind the building he occupied, even though she was repeatedly told not to by what he assumed was her mother.
Over the course of his watching, never did he see her do anything wicked to man or animal. She was soft. Weak. Gnak was decided that this night would be the night.
He watched the camp’s routine that final time, and watched as the humans returned to their homes as darkness threatened. Stragglers were a daily occurrence, as it appeared that some of the male humans would rather be in the fields working than in their homes with their mates. By the looks of the females, he couldn’t blame them.
He waited then, a full two hours after the last sighting of a human, before he climbed down the ladder and back out of the building. Visiting the leather and cloth home first, he reached one long arm through the hole in its wall and collected a bag to fill with provisions and a small scrap of soft leather. Next came the food storage building.
Entering the unlatched door, Gnak strode inside eyeing all the supplies. No humans lived in this building, but several families of rats did. Collecting some dried meat, a round block of some hard substance the humans seemed to like, two long brown things that the humans cooked, and a large skin of water, he made his way back outside, slinging the bag over his shoulder. He had no idea how much the little female required, but assumed he had taken plenty.
Walking back around and behind the buildings, he entered a small storage room where he snatched up the spear he had eyeballed nightly, and two short lengths of rope. The human spear was shorter than one made by his race but would suffice. Walking to the southern end of the camp, he shoved the spear down into the soil and hung the pack upon it. Then he prepared the short lengths of rope into loops he could easily tighten, but that the small girl could not escape. Prepared, he went to collect his prize.
Back into the camp he crept silently, and as he had done on each night he rounded the corner of the building warily, peering around that last bit to be sure no light shone in the wall holes. Deeming it safe, he walked right up to the hole and looked inside. There she was, sleeping as if the world owed it to her. Carefully, gingerly, he slipped his hands beneath her, lifting her slowly. She stirred a little, but remained asleep. Once she was off of the bed roll, he pulled her up and out through the hole and simultaneously tucked her under one arm as he stuffed the scrap of leather he had collected in her mouth. That certainly woke her up!
Kicking and thrashing with muffled screams of fear and panic, the girl’s eyes popped open as silent screams caught in her throat. Wrapping the first rope about her head he cinched it tight, securing the leather in her mouth. Readjusting his kicking cargo, he grasped her tiny arms in one large hand, wrapping the second coil of rope around them and securing it in place as well. Then he tossed her up over one shoulder and strode to the edge of the camp where he collected his new spear and pack. It was time to go home.
Setting a nice brisk pace, he strode across the grass covered hills back to the south, all the while his prized bundle kicked and thrashed and tried to scream. Over. And over. And over. She was relentless. Even tied and gagged she fought on, trying to free herself from her captor. It was annoying beyond a doubt, but so too was it admirable. She was a stronger child than she appeared. She had heart. She would make a proud sacrifice.
It was several hours later when her thrashing began to lessen, and thinking she had finally given up he was quickly proven wrong. The girl said something quite calmly through her gag, and then was silent for several long minutes. Then without warning he felt the wet warmth flowing down his shoulder, back, and chest. She had pissed on him. Disgusted, he yanked her from his shoulder and deposited her on the ground roughly. She crumpled into a pile and Gnak could swear she was giggling.
With the urge to smash her little skull he paced back and forth, waiting for the urge to pass. It refused… at least for a quarter of an hour or more. Then he had an idea. If the humans spoke basically the same tongue as him, then perhaps he could convince her to not make him kill her prematurely.
Stalking to the girl, he stood towering above her and jutted one massive finger in her face.
“Next time you piss me… I piss you.” he grunted at her, and watched as her eyes grew wide and mouth began moving a mile a minute.
“No talk!” he told her in no uncertain terms, and with her shoulders sagging she complied.
Snatching her back up off the ground, he shook her slightly at arm’s length to be sure she was not still dripping before once again slinging her upon his now wet shoulder. Disgusting humans.
It was an hour before dawn when he found a seemingly safe location to rest for the day. The humans might come looking while it was light, and if they did, he did not want to be moving about. Setting her down again, feeling dizzy as he bent, he lowered himself down upon the ground where he could easily see her. Their only protection from view was the tall grass around them, and as such he needed to express to her the circumstances of his companionship.
“You hear talk. Take rope mouth. You no yell. Yes yell, me kill. You eat. You drink. I rope back. Yes?” He questioned her understanding. She nodded her agreement.
Reaching out, he grasped the rope in both hands and loosened the knots that held it in place. Once loose, he allowed her to remove it with her still bound hands. She stared at him a moment and he held the bag full of supplies out to her. She took it easily, if not a bit reluctantly, and pulled the straps open to reveal its contents. The thirty seconds of silence was then apparently too much for her.
“You can talk?” she asked entirely too loudly.
Baring his teeth at her, he squinted menacingly and she took well his meaning.
“I mean, I was told Orcs and goblins and trolls and giants couldn’t talk. Can all of you talk?”
“Humans talk much. Very much,” Gnak replied, still scowling at the girl.
She reached inside the bag and pulled out one of the long brown objects, breaking herself off a hunk. The inside, it seemed, was soft and fluffy. Tearing the piece she had collected in half, she placed one half on each of her knees. Reaching in again, she tore free a chunk of the hard orange substance, and sat it atop one of the halves of fluffy stuff. Then she again reached in the bag and extracted a small piece of the dried meat. This she put atop the orange stuff, and then she placed the second piece of fluffy stuff from her opposite knee on top of the small pile of human food. Grasping it from each side with her bound hands, she smashed it down and crammed the first bite in her mouth, chewing with her mouth open like the large animals the humans kept and fed. Disgusting!
After the second bite, with her mouth still full of half chewed food, her eyes looked up to his once again and she talked through the disgusting mass of gelatinous gunk in her mouth.
“Are we going to where you live?”
Gnak did not bother to answer.
“Why did you take me?”
He ignored her again.
“Are you going to eat me?”
Maybe this would shut her up… “Maybe yes. Maybe no. Me think yes,” he
replied.
“So why not just kill me now and not have to feed me on the journey?”
She had called his bluff. Eat a human? Yuck!
“Maybe kill. Maybe no.”
“Maybe blah, maybe blah,” she recited through another half chewed bite.
“Are you smart enough to answer a single question?”
Gnak was tired of her already.
“Are you smart enough to no ask more?” He half repeated her own words back to her, showing his understanding.
Her eyes widened. She had obviously underestimated his intelligence. He could only imagine what she would ask next.
“I’m Jen, and I am eleven. What’s your name?” she asked.
He was at a loss with the tiny girl. Perhaps if he gave her one answer, her simple mind would be satisfied and she would shut up after all.
“Gnak,” he replied.
“Gnak…” She tested the word. “Is that really your name? Gnak? Kinda… um… silly. Isn’t it?
This time she had him at a loss. He knew none of her words. Kinda? Um? Silly? Orcs had no such words so instead of listening further, he reached across as she pulled the watering skin from her lips and picked up the leather, stuffing it back in her mouth. She did not resist. He was more than a little disappointed by the fact. He had thought her strong of heart.
Securing the rope back in place around her mouth, he used the remaining length of it to tie around his own wrist. If she moved, he would awake. The dizziness was becoming more and more an issue. He needed rest. But first, before he tried to get some sleep he ate a quick meal of dried meat as her eyes watched his every move. Then, looking to her, he spoke once again with his finger in her face.
“You run. You die. You yell. You die. You piss. You die. Yes?”
She nodded her agreement and he shoved her over onto her side so she could rest as well. Then laying down a very short distance from her, keeping her easily in reach, he closed his own eyes. For a minute. Then he popped them open to see if she had moved. She hadn’t. Closing them again, he did not reopen them again until at least three minutes later. Still no change.
Try as he might, he could not just trust her to lay still and obey his orders. Even if she was small. He knew that even if she did get away and run he could catch her easy. But what if she put magic on him and made him sleep forever? Or what if she sealed his eyes closed, making him blind? Many what ifs assaulted his mind, lulling him off to an uncomfortable sleep where he thrashed and kicked, a cold sweat covering his entire body.
It was dark again when he woke, and there she sat quietly, her gag removed, a mouth full of half-chewed food as she decided to greet him.
“Hello, Gnak,” she said.
He grunted in reply, his body filled with ache, the side of his face feeling worse than ever. He reached up to touch the wound and found it wet. Removing his fingers, he pulled them in front of his face to reveal a thick yellow pus that reeked of decay. He needed to reach the shaman. Fast.
Rising, he stumbled slightly, his whole world spinning for a moment before it finally settled into place. Looking to the girl, he gave his orders.
“I lead. You come. I walk, you walk. No talk. Walk. Eat. Piss. Yes?”
She nodded, then decided that apparently a simple unspoken ‘yes’ was not enough.
“Are you OK, Gnak? Cause I gotta tell ya, you’re not looking so good.”
“Gnak good. I walk, you come.”
With nothing more, he snatched up the supply bag and began walking at a pace that made her struggle to keep up. If she was breathing hard, perhaps she would talk less.
Hours later, bless the gods, he stopped as she picked herself up off the ground for what had to have been the fifteenth time. Her eyes were pathetic in the dark, and she seemed to trip over every single obstacle they passed. Even so, with such short legs, she was making good time so long as he kept her moving.
Near the middle of the night, they stopped to allow her to rest while eating a quick meal and taking a drink. She eyed him the whole time, but never said a word. Until of course they got up and began moving again.
“What’s to stop me from just leaving when you drop dead?” she asked.
As was becoming their custom, he ignored her.
“I’m eleven, Gnak, I’m not a child. I can see that you are injured and with every hour you slow down more and more. Now when you walk, you sway from side to side.”
“Gnak injured, yes. But return home. See shaman. Get heal.”
“You have healers too?” she asked excitedly. “I’m a healer, though no one has trained me. Do your healers worship the goddess Lorentia?”
Yup, most of that was nonsense. Heal, train, and god he could understand, but the rest was gibberish. Humans talked stupid. Stupid humans.
“Shaman heal. We go shaman.”
Gnak snatched the bag of food once more and began walking again. He would show her slow down. Stretching out his stride he found that with every step the world leaned to one side and then the other. Sweat poured down his head and face. His leather armor was soaked with it. He kept moving and she followed behind. He stumbled once, perhaps an hour into that stretch of trail, and then he looked up at her from his back.
“Shaman,” he grunted.
“Yes, Gnak, shaman, I know. But I don’t know any shaman. Why not let me heal you? I could use the practice.”
“No. No magic.”
“No magic?” Do your healers not use magic?”
“You no magic Gnak,” he replied.
For a long time the world turned round and round, the stars in the sky spinning in his vision. Closing his eyes made it better, but he could not very well continue with his eyes closed. He needed rest. So he simply listened to Jen’s chatter, and with nothing better to do, decided to see if he could learn more about the stupid humans.
“You see, Lorentia gives me the power to heal, but I just use it. It’s not really mine.”
“You god give power?”
“Of course. Do the Orcs have gods?”
“Yes. Orc gods.”
“What gods do Orcs worship?”
“Gogoc, Burliq, Keeka. You?”
“I’ve never heard of those gods. Do they give power to Orcs?”
“No many.”
“Maybe you should try different gods, then? Do you know of any others?”
“No.”
“Are you a fighter, Gnak?”
“What fighter?” he asked.
“A warrior? A Knight? A swordsman?”
“Warrior, yes. Sword, yes.”
“Then maybe you should worship Gorandor, or Vikstol, or Ishanya. They all grant warriors with power.”
“Talk me power.”
“Gorandor is the most known and honored god of human warriors. He makes his soldiers big and stronger than anyone,” she began to chatter. “Even the king of Valdadore worships Gorandor. But some soldiers worship Vikstol too. He gives his warriors victory in the face of defeat, letting them live when other men would surely die,” she added, whipping her hand about like she brandished a sword.
“Gnak need Vikstol,” he joked before realizing his own actions, letting her continue as he closed his eyes again.
“Now, I can’t tell you much about Ishanya. Not many worship her anymore, my ma says, but I heard a rumor that there is a man up north who worships her, and he can change men into beasts, and shoot fire from his hands, and kill people with a single thought.”
“Ishanya?”
“Yup, that’s right. Ishanya. Funny name, huh? Kinda like Gnak.”
Again, half of her words were meaningless, but he understood her point nonetheless. The humans had gods, too. Their gods granted power, too. It sounded to Gnak like some gods were better than others. But he wanted more knowledge.
“Talk me. You god.”
“My god? Well, Lorentia is a goddess of healing and nurturing. See, that is what I am doing right now. Nurturing. I am letting you be at peace, and helping you to be comfortabl
e and pass the agonizing hours. It’s better to not be alone when you die. Oops, I meant when you are hurt and all that.”
“Everything die alone.”
“I suppose that is true too in a way, but I don’t think I would want to be alone if I knew I was dying.”
“Gnak no die. How you heal?”
“I’m not really sure yet. The first time I healed, it was a little bird I found with a broken wing. I wanted to save it so bad, I picked it up and held it in my hands. I knew Lorentia was the goddess of healing, and so I prayed that she help me heal the bird. Then I felt her power inside me and I opened my hands and the bird flew away. Now when I want to heal something, I just pray to Lorentia and wholla… healed. Ma says that other healers do it different, but what does she know? She ain’t never left Brookside before.”
“What else you heal?”
“I healed a horse once, and some chickens that a fox got to. These days I mostly heal my brother, but he don’t like being my practice.”
Gnak mulled over her words in his head, trying to keep his world from spinning. She had a great many ideas about the gods and her healing, but he wondered if her young age tainted her thoughts or if they were real and true.
Laying on his back, the world seemed heavy upon him and he felt as if he slipped further into the ground with every breath. He decided that her words were true. She was not trying to convince him of anything. She was not even trying to escape. She was only trying to… to? Nurture? Him? It was a strange word, but he knew the meaning. She was being with him, keeping his mind busy as his body fought the infliction. It was a kind gesture, a weak one, but he understood it coming from a young human girl. Had she been a strong Orc she would have sliced through his neck by now and watched him bleed out upon the ground. But she was not Orc. She was human.
Even opening his eyes now, everything remained dark. His vision had escaped him. A strange fog filled his mind, but when she spoke, he could feel his way through it to her words. It was an odd sensation. Again, he encouraged her to talk.
“Tell me why you god?”
“Why do people choose to worship Lorentia? I guess because they want to help their people. I worship her because she allows me to make a difference. Though she chooses which of her followers to give the gift of healing, she does not pick and choose who we can heal. She allows us to heal anyone we are able. She…”
Gnak heard no more. His hearing was lost in the fog too. Her words remained though, only as a muffled sound. Human gods helped them make a difference and helped their people. They did not need to kill their sick and weak. They made them better, making their clans and their people stronger. It was smart. Even for humans.
He pondered further what she had said about the gods of human warriors. They gave gifts of power to humans. Made them stronger. Made them live when they should have died. Made them throw fire, and kill with a thought. The Orc gods sometimes gave strength and speed. It was a great asset in war, but with Orc life it made those blessed by the gods look at other Orcs as weak and infirm. It did not make them better to make their clan better. It made them better for only them. Gnak questioned much of what he had been taught. ‘Kill or be killed’ was good advice on the field of battle, but how was a clan to grow stronger fighting amongst itself?
Such were his thoughts as even they began to fade into the fog. Darker and darker Gnak’s world became’ as he fell deeper and deeper beneath the world’ until at last a bright white light appeared before him. He looked into the light, his eyes burning from the brightness. He imagined that this was the heavens and he had returned to the side of the gods. But the light wasn’t the heavens.
Nearing death’ his eyelids had relaxed and come open. The light radiated from small hands. The small hands were Jen’s. She had brought him back from the nothingness of death and saved his life, even if it meant he would lead her to the end of her own. He could see her small face from the light her hands created, glowing with joy.
Her goddess had allowed her to heal him, even though he planned to sacrifice the small girl to one of his own gods. In his homeland the act would be seen as weak, but it was the act of a strong god. For only a god with strength would say ‘let me save you, even if you wish me harm, to do as you were meant to do. For by doing so, I have done what I am meant to do’. The saving was a greater act than the killing. It took more strength to save.
Gnak watched as the light faded from Jen’s tiny hands, a crooked grin washing across her face.
“All life is sacred, Gnak. Even yours,” she whispered, before she collapsed from exhaustion.
The words burned into his mind. The girl was a stupid human and she was only half his age, yet she in her short years had become wise beyond measure.
Sitting up to assure himself that she was only unconscious, he rolled her onto her side to sleep more comfortably and watched as she breathed slow even breaths. She would be fine.
Reaching up to his face, he quickly turned his head as his eyes widened in disbelief. Both the wound in his shoulder and slice through his bicep had vanished. Not even a scar remained where just moments before swollen, jagged edged wounds had been. Touching his face, he found that there too his wounds had vanished. No more swelling, no more burning, no more pus, and no more fog. The little human had taken it all away. And he was planning to kill her.
It was a confusing predicament, to say the least.