In other news, I've just about got my old truck back on the road. Just need to finish the exhaust and go through the brakes. Looking forward to driving it again.
Any way. Hope you enjoy this next chpater.
-Wayne
Light coming through the window woke me...that combined with a mighty urge to take a piss. It took me a couple of seconds to disentangle myself from Shala. I'd be willing to bet one of her legs weighs over half what my entire body weighs, but oh lord what a leg. I give serious thought to waking her up, but then I realize I have other commitments today. Dammit, sometimes, life just ain't fair.
I open the door to the hut and the sight that greets me was something a person would have to see first-hand to fully appreciate. There were naked, sleeping orcs EVERYWHERE. The cook fire was still smoldering and there was still some meat left on the carcass hanging over it. After I finished draining my bladder, I carved off another big chunk and took it back to Shala's hut. She was awake and dressed when I got there. I tore the meat in half and offered her a portion. She took it with a smile and gently stroked the side of my head.
"You are definitely not what I expected, white skin," she said with the softest tone I'd heard from her. "You are fierce for one so small, and I think you will do well today. Try not to let my kinsman kill you. I would like to see you again when I return from my duties for the day." Then she bent forward, nuzzled the side of my head, and left the hut.
"Dying is never part of my plan," I replied to the empty room. Time to find Valsh.
I find my man Valsh right where I left him the night before only now he's naked with a woman under each arm. They're both lying with their heads on his chest, and all three of them are sleeping peacefully. Almost seems a shame to wake him up. As I get closer I notice that there's a little trickle of dried blood running out of his left nostril and the eye on that side is a little swollen and surrounded by a darker green ring that is likely a hell of a shiner. Oh, he's grinning like an idiot in his sleep too. I can respect that.
"Wake up, you old dog," I say kicking the bottom of his foot. No way I'm getting within arms reach of a sleeping orc.
He kind of snorts, opens the eye that isn't almost swollen shut, and smiles at me. Then he gently rolls each woman off of his chest and sits up. He kind of swoons a little and almost falls back over. I'm guessing hangover mixed with a slight concussion. I can't help but laugh a little which earns me a glare and then a chuckle from Valsh.
"Old is right. I think I may be aging beyond this sort of thing, but gods it is good," he said as he got to his feet and gathered his clothes. "We should head to my hut and I will heal anything serious. It is good to keep some pain. Reminds us we are alive. Have you eaten?"
"Yeah, Shala and I ate before she left this morning. Water would be good though. I am more than a little dehydrated."
"I would be disappointed if you were not," he said with a laugh walking towards the cook fire. He carved himself off a chunk of meat, grabbed some fruit, and came back my way. "There is water in my hut. Shall we go get you ready for your trial. There are things that must be done. This is ritual as much as anything else. The traditions must be followed."
Once we were in his hut, Valsh sat me in the center of the main room and wove some healing magic around me to close up anything that had been bleeding. I was surprised at just how many bite wounds there were. I honestly hadn't noticed them happen. He left the bruising caused by the bite and just closed the wound. He also found a couple of light fractures in my left arm and right thigh. Guess it was a rougher night than I thought.
While he worked, Valsh described what would happen the rest of the day. I would be taken to a hut to be prepared for the trial. Elder females would bathe me, paint my body with symbols significant to the trial, and dress me in the ritual outfit for the fight. Fucker laughed when he said that because they were going to have to make one because of my size. Sometimes being small is a pain in the ass.
The healing took a lot out of both of us, so we ate more and drank about a half-gallon of some fruit juice that was supposed to replenish the body. I have to be honest I did feel considerably better about twenty minutes after I drank it. I'm not one hundred percent sure there wasn't some mild narcotic effect from the drink though. I felt invincible, but Valsh kept reminding me that even a newly blooded warrior was going to be considerably bigger than me. I kept reminding him that almost everything I had ever faced in a fight was considerably bigger than me going all the way back to John Morton back in high school. This was nothing new.
About mid-afternoon there was a knock at the door of the hut. Outside was a cadre of ancient orc women who announced they were here to see to the white skin. Valsh obviously respected these women because he bowed as they entered. He introduced them each in turn citing their places on the women's elder council. It seems that the War Leader had two teams of advisors. The male elders dealt with war, which meant he ignored them entirely, but the female elders counseled him in the running of the village. They planned all of the hunts, farming, and education of the pups. These were important ladies. I decided it was in my best interest to be nice, so I bowed to each in turn.
They led me from Valsh's hut to a small building beside a ring of stone that encircled a sand pit. That must be the ring. There was another building just like it directly opposite the one I was led to. Smoke rose through a clay chimney in the roof of each. On the other two points of the compass on the ring stood two weapons racks. There was nothing with an edge or a point, so they're training weapons. Doesn't mean they won't hurt like hell. Each rack held a club that would be a real chore for me to wield, a mace, and what looked like Escrima sticks except they were about two inches thick. Good to know I wouldn't have to stand out in the center and try to trade licks with one of these granite skulled mother fuckers.
From the other hut I could hear female voices singing songs of glorious death in battle and all that warrior bullshit. I, for one, agree with George S. Patton when he said, "The object of war is not to die for your country but to make the other bastard die for his.” Only in this situation it would be something like...the point of war isn't to die in battle. It's to make the other poor fucker die so you can enjoy the victory.
The one thing I hated about all of this was not knowing who I was fighting. My training is screaming for me to recon the shit out of this situation and then spend time planning the fastest way to end it. It's causing me more than a little anxiety. I tried talking to my escorts as we were walking from Valsh's place, but they wouldn't say word one. I need to find a way to accept that this one is out of my comfort zone, so I can calm the fuck down.
The bath was done with me standing buck naked in a tub of warm water. The old women sang the same songs I had heard on the way in while they worked. After I was dried, I was put into a leather cod piece and loin cloth. They moved me to the center of the hut to stand near a small fire pit. The oldest, or at least the one leading this ceremony, put some plants into the fire that made a sweet-smelling smoke. The smoke didn't fill the room, just the aroma. While it burned, two of the women began to paint orcish runes on my back and chest and one painted gold and red stripes on my face. Valsh had told me they were symbolic and supposed to hide the combatants from death.
Whatever. If you're supposed to die, paint ain't gonna fucking prevent it.
When they were satisfied with their work, one of them opened the door to the hut, and I was led to a place on the stone ring and instructed to sit and contemplate what was to come. I was not to move until the Battle Master said to do so. The trial would be just after sundown, so I had a couple of hours to sit there. I was gonna be so damned stiff by the time this shit kicked off.
Shortly after I settled in to wait, the door of the other hut opened and a similar group of women led a mountain of an orc to a seat opposite me. I could tell pretty much right away that this was no freshly blooded warrior. This dude had some years under his belt. I could see the scars on his chest from the twenty feet or so away that I sat. I could also see that he had rings in both tusks.
What the actual fuck is this bullshit? I thought this was supposed to be a formality with me fighting some wet behind the ears, young warrior. Where the fuck is Valsh? Fuck it. I can handle his ass.
I start to look him over to see if I can gather any information I can use once the fun starts. Scout training and years of being a sneaky bastard make it almost reflex. Start with the scars. He's been stabbed several times. There's a difference between a scar from a cut and a scar from a stab or other puncture wound. They tend to pucker. This poor bastard has played arrow and/or spear catcher on more than one occasion. Mark those as potential strike points...especially the one near the socket of his right shoulder. I bet that one gives him shit right before a rain.
His jawline isn't straight. Likely he's had it broken a couple of times along with the tusk on the side that is inset slightly. Cracked granite is still granite, but it tends to break more easily along those fault lines. Strike point number two located and marked.
As I file that away a memory jumps into my head. He was limping slightly. Not like he was currently hurt. More like Jerry back on Terra did back form that old football injury. Just give to it a little so you don't step wrong and fuck it up again. That's strike point number three, but only if I have to. I don't need an enemy here, and crippling a warrior might just cause some ill will to develop.
Size-wise he's probably a good foot taller than me and probably weighs twice what I do. Grappling would not be fun unless I get lucky and get him where he can't get me and then somehow force him to yield. Let's not make that the primary plan, but I could probably handle it as long as he doesn't get a hand on me. Something tells me he'd snap me like a dry twig and then apologize for getting carried away.
While I had been doing all my plotting and planning, the village had gathered around the ring. Some torches had been lit. I hadn't even noticed it getting dark. Hyper focus is a bitch sometimes. I hear Valsh before I see him. He's protesting the War Leader's choice of opponent saying that it is an unfair match to put me against a seasoned orc warrior like...Gujek I think he said was his name.
"If your little friend was truly sent by the gods, then he must face a challenge worthy of him. The choice stands," Na'Guk proclaimed then he laughed and called for food and drink as his dais.
So, the old fucker is stacking the deck. Ok, this just went from proving myself to saving myself. That brings a whole new protocol up for the actions I am going to take. I don't need to kill him, but I do need to make this fast, decisive, and most of all brutal. If the War Leader want to test me, he picked a bad day to do it.
Valsh stepped into the ring and walked to where Gujek was seated. They exchanged a few words and Gujek shook his head in the negative. Valsh nodded and walked to me.
Once he was in front of me he said, "My role in this is to ask you if you wish to withdraw. If you answer no, I will move to the center of the ring and call you both forward to begin the combat. You may use any of the weapons on the racks to either side, but you must gain them after the fight begins. Tole, I would suggest you withdraw. There will be no dishonor if you do. You can alter your plan and still carry out the assassination."
I think of my night with Shala and think I would like to be able to return to this village someday. These people, their lives, and their world speak to me on a very basic level. If I withdraw, that cannot happen. Besides, I don't like being fucked with.
"I fight," I said with enough heat in my voice that there could be no misunderstanding my commitment.
Valsh stands up straight and looks me in the eye. Then he grins and says, "So be it. Fight well my friend."
He turns and walks to the center of the circle and raises his hands into the air. Everything falls silent. He motions to Gujek and me, so we both rise and walk to the center of the ring. Now that we're this close I notice some discolored areas around Gujek's ribcage and his left eye. He must've had a good time last night too.
Valsh conjures a small flame in his hand and lets it float in the air between Gujek and I. He says, "When this flame winks out, let the trial by combat begin. Remember this is ritual combat, so try not to kill one another. May the gods grant victory to the worthy." When he finished, he walked out of the circle to stand next to Na'Guk.
Right Tole. Knee...ribs...shoulder...jaw. Those are your targets...Get this shit done.
Just as I finish the thought the flame winks out, and Gujek takes a step forward on his weak leg. Thank you. I drop backwards into a Capoeira stance ducking his lead punch and immediately lash out landing the kick on that bad knee. It gives with a satisfying crack, and he roars in pain and anger.
Knee.
I follow it with a dagger hand strike into the scar on his rib cage and feel my fingers slip between two ribs, so I grab the upper one and pull hard feeling it crack and drawing another roar from my opponent.
Ribs.
He takes a haymaker swing at me which I duck under as it comes. Sometimes being small pays off. The punch combined with the broken knee cause him to over extend, and I end up to the side and slightly behind him. I jump up onto his back and my left arm snakes around his throat, his Adam's apple in the crook of my elbow, and I grasp my right bicep with my left hand.
Choke instead of shoulder? What the hell? Why not?
Startled, the asshole does exactly what everyone else does when this happens, and tries to smack me in the nose with the back of his head. Unfortunately, my right hand is on the back of his head, and his head-butt becomes a pitiful shove.
Automatically, I pull my shoulders back. It's now a countdown. Seven ... six ... I feel his weight start to shift, and I slam my feet into the back of his knees, collapsing the joints and throwing him off balance. He instinctively wastes time trying to stay upright ... four ... three ... He paws fitfully at my arm, buried deep under his chin ... two ... one.
He's out.
I'm not stupid, so I hold the choke for another five seconds, before dropping him like a sack of dead trout in the dirt followed by a roar from the crowd.
I start my walk over to where Na'Guk and Valsh stand to claim my victory when I notice the crowd is silent again. That's when I hear the cough behind me, so I turn to see Gujek on his hands and knees.
Seriously?!?! Fuck my life!
I walk over to a weapon rack and grab a mace and start back into the ring. About five steps from Gujek I start a loping run and my backswing. I land solidly on both feet right in front of him as my swing comes forward.
Jaw.
The crack left no room for confusion that I broke his goddamed jaw. He went down hard, and I walked over the edge of the ring where his broken tusk lay where it had landed in the sand. I picked it up and dropped the mace. Dusting the sand off of the tusk, I turned and walked back to the dais where Na'Guk sat with his mouth hanging open. Valsh was behind him with his arms folded across his chest and grinning like an idiot.
I dropped the tusk on the table and walked out of the ring and toward Valsh's hut without a word to anyone.
I need a drink.
1 comment:
Getting better and better! :-)
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