The Immortal Mystic (Book 5) (13 page)

Gorin tipped his head to the side and pursed his lips. “You should be honored to fight here,” he said. “In one hundred years songs will be sung of the battles fought at Ten Forts. It will be up to you to decide whether orcs sing of their victory, or the families we miss so dearly sing of how we saved them. As for me, I don’t see any difference between nobles and commoners. They both bleed easy enough. I see only men with honor, and those without. Make your choice about which you will be.”

The room grew very quiet.

At that moment, the door opened and in walked Peren, carrying a green bag and making a straight line for his bunk. “I assume you took bottom again, Gorin?”

Gorin didn’t answer. His eyes remained locked on the warrior with the brown hair.

“Ah,” Peren said as he noticed the situation in the room. “Making friends already, are we?” Peren threw his bag onto the top bunk and moved to a round table in the middle of the room. He produced a deck of cards and then pointed at the warrior in the brown hair. “You there, come over here. Let us settle this like gentlemen. I don’t know what this is all about, but there is no problem that a good game of cards can’t solve.”

“Keep your cards,” the man hissed as he turned his back on Gorin.

“I thought we could play a round of canago,” Peren said.

“Drinking games aren’t allowed,” said another soldier.

Peren shrugged. “Yeah well, I am tired. I have been on the road for days, and I had the misfortune of riding behind this brutish man over here.” Peren pointed to Gorin. “He smells worse than an ox by the way, have you gents noticed that yet?”

That did it. A few of the men began laughing and some of them moved in toward the table. Gorin started to approach too, but Peren waved him off.

“Oxen don’t play cards,” he said.

The others laughed, but Gorin just grunted and moved to the bed. “Not everything is a joke, little mage,” he whispered as he passed by.

Peren pretended not to hear. “Alright, the rules are simple. I draw a card and lay it face up. I then draw another card. You guess whether it is higher or lower. If you are wrong, you drink.”

“We don’t have any drink in the bunks,” one of the soldiers complained.

“Ah, well, I can fix that.” Peren moved back to his green bag and pulled out a set of small cups. He took them to the table and set them in front of the others. “Now, all I have to do is—”

Lady Arkyn leaned into the doorway and called out, “Gorin, Peren, we need to go.”

Peren’s eyebrows went up and he pointed to the cups and cards in front of him. “Right now?” he asked.

Gorin grabbed his massive warhammer and made for the doorway. “Come on, Peren, let the others play with your toys while we are gone.”

Peren frowned. He looked down at the empty cups and then sighed. “One for the road.” He snapped his fingers and all of the cups filled with amber colored whiskey. He grabbed one cup and took a short sip.

“Peren!” Gorin shouted from the hall.

“You men go ahead and play the first round, but hold my seat!” Peren rushed out the door and down the hallway to catch up with the others. He wedged between his companions and looked up to Gorin. “So what was it this time? Giving them the famous ‘honorable men’ speech, or did one of them steal your sweetroll?”

Gorin glanced down at him. “Honor,” he said tersely. “They need to pull their armor on like men and get down to business.”

“Ah, yes, well I am sure that has made us popular bunk mates,” Peren lamented.

“I am sure your drinking game will fix that,” Lady Arkyn put in. “Until the morning when their heads are splitting.”

Peren held a finger up in the air. “That is the beauty of it. They are only drinking air.” The other two glanced at him quizzically. “What? You have no issue with me changing rats into wyverns, but you don’t think I can transmute air into alcohol? The genius thing is, they will go to bed drunk and happy but not wake with a hangover. No harm done.”

“You should spend some time in my village,” Gorin said. “Then maybe you would quit these foolish games.”

Peren shrugged. “I am who I am. I make no apologies for that. Besides, I like to make people smile.”

“Enough,” Lady Arkyn said. “We have work to do.”

“Where are we going?” Peren asked.

Lady Arkyn pointed down another hall. She led them out to the main courtyard of the next fort over to the west from the main keep. As they stepped out into the night air, Peren and Gorin saw the whole group of dwarves before them.

“Night hunting?” Gorin asked.

Arkyn shook her head. “The dwarves are going out, but we are not.”

“Then why are we here?” Gorin asked.

“We are going to help with the gate. Mercer wanted us to help with the attack because he suspects a traitor in his ranks. The only others that know of this are the dwarves. Mercer himself is in the gatehouse now, watching the assigned guards.”

“I think I need another drink,” Peren put in. “I didn’t realize I was going to babysit. I could have sat that one out.”

Gorin nodded. “I wholeheartedly agree.”

“Well, that is what Mercer wants.” Arkyn looked to Gorin. “He wants you to muscle the gate in case the dwarves need to retreat quickly.” Then, she looked to Peren. “He wants you on hand in case we need extra support.”

“What, did he gather a bag of mice or something?” Peren asked sarcastically.

“Actually, he did,” Arkyn said.

The three of them moved into the gatehouse and opened the gate upon Mercer’s command. The dwarves raced out, many of them riding upon the giant, snarling lizards they called cavedogs. The cavedog riders galloped off to the east while those on foot broke out to the west.

“Where are they going?” Gorin asked.

Mercer came up and clapped the giant on the back. “Some head east to cut off any reinforcements to the orcs. The last few nights we have watched them stream in from that direction. The others on the cavedogs are headed out to the west to see if they can’t find a way in to the caves we think they are hiding in.”

“I suppose I wouldn’t be much good in a tiny cave anyway,” Gorin said. The large man closed the gates and then moved to sit down. “I hate waiting,” he added.

Mercer chuckled. “When they return, let them in, and then go and get your rest. You all have my thanks for doing this on such short notice.”

Peren offered a limp salute and then shot Gorin a cross-eyed look as soon as Mercer had his back turned to them. Gorin sniggered and threw a pebble at Peren.

“Sit down before you hurt yourself, court jester,” Gorin said.

“I would have been a good jester,” Peren commented. “Peren the Magnificent they would have called me. I bet King Mathias would have me permanently in his court for performances. People would come from miles around just to hear my jokes and watch my tricks.”

“I have a trick I would like to see,” Gorin said.

“What is that?” Peren asked.

“Well, I am not sure you could do it, so I can offer you two.”

“I bet I could do both of them. Try me, come on, tell me what they are.”

Gorin sneered wickedly. “The first is to make yourself disappear.”

Peren frowned and folded his arms. “Har har har,” Peren mocked.

Gorin shrugged. “Well, if you can’t do that, then you could just make yourself be silent. That would still be quite the feat.”

Peren arched an eyebrow. Lady Arkyn laughed and then slipped out of the gatehouse to move to the wall above for a better vantage point.

“Funny,” Peren said after she left.

Gorin sighed and put on an exaggerated expression of concern. “Oh, I am sorry, I thought surely you could do
one
of the two tricks. I didn’t realize they would both be so hard for you.”

“Go ahead and laugh,” Peren said as Gorin started chuckling to himself. “I will outlive you, just you wait. Those who take themselves too seriously are always the first to go.”

“If I die first, then my spirit will come back and whisk you away to my homelands so you can see what it means to be serious.”

Peren rolled his eyes. “I’m going to sit with Arkyn.”

“You have no chance with her,” Gorin said. “She prefers men of action.”

Peren glanced bank and offered a wink. “I act when I need to, otherwise I use my head.”

Gorin laughed and slapped his leg. “Go on, little mage, go try to woo the fair lady.” He watched as Peren left and then leaned his head back against the wall. He knew he shouldn’t tease Peren as much as he had lately. He wasn’t sure if it was the incident at Lokton manor, where Peren was presumed dead, or if it was the nagging feeling of depression that was starting to gnaw at his stomach that made him do it. The truth was, Gorin was very fond of Peren. He thought of him as a brother. A small, weak brother, but still family nonetheless. He knew Peren felt the same. They had traveled together for several years now, dealing with all sorts of trials along the way. Gorin knew that it was as much the mage’s jokes as it was his skill that endeared the little man to him. He was a good counterbalance to the stoic warrior.

Gorin stood up and walked out into the pale moonlight. He placed the head of his hammer down upon the ground there in the courtyard and knelt beside his weapon with his left hand upon the metal shaft. He whispered a prayer to his ancestors in his native tongue, asking them to watch over Peren and guard him as one of their own.

*****

Maernok sat upon a stool of rock, pouring over the map of Ten Forts for the hundredth time this hour. The candles had burned low long ago, and left him with hardly any light at all. Gulgarin came into the chamber, holding a drinking horn embellished with silver plating around the rim.

“That was quite a display,” Gulgarin said.

Maernok nodded. “I have heard stories of Master Lepkin,” Maernok said.

“Perhaps you should challenge him,” Gulgarin suggested. Maernok shot the orc a dirty look. Gulgarin shrugged and put the drinking horn to his lips. He then pointed to the uneaten meat and potatoes on Maernok’s plate. “You going to eat?”

“I have no appetite,” Maernok grunted. “Two of our chiefs have gone missing.”

“Gersimon and the she-orcs reported that once Serndar saw the ram, he tried to desert.” The big orc shrugged and took another drink. “Gerarn tried to stop him and they both died from their wounds.”

“And you believe that?” Maernok pressed.

“I have no reason to doubt the testimony of twenty orcs.”

“Gilifan was with them, that makes me doubt everything.”

Gulgarin shrugged. “He is a crafty one, but by all accounts he simply changed the metal on the ram and then vanished.” Gulgarin took another drink. “You should just be happy that the remaining orcs from the other clans have agreed to fight under your command. When this is over, you will be a king of three tribes, and not just a chief.”

Maernok shot Gulgarin a sour look.

Gulgarin nodded knowingly. “There is more bothering you than Gerarn and Serndar, isn’t there?”

Maernok struck a fist on the table. “We can’t get the ram within striking distance, our trebuchets are destroyed and we have not the materials to build replacements, and now today not only did Lepkin turn into a dragon, but he stripped himself down and beat thirteen orcs.”

Gulgarin nodded. “When you put it that way, I suppose even the wine has lost its sweetness.”

“We need to strike here,” Maernok said definitively as he thumped his finger onto the map. “The eastern most fort.”

“Why there, good brother, why not continue pounding in the middle?” Gulgarin asked.

Maernok shook his head. “They have bolstered the main gate. Also, they have reinforced everything to the west. If they have a weak spot, it will be in the east.”

Gulgarin grinned. “Force them to shift resources eh?”

Maernok nodded. “I have received word that there are three thousand reinforcements arriving tomorrow. I have already sent runners redirecting them to the east. We will continue to push the ram forward. In the meantime, we will send the reinforcements to the east. We will break through one of the two gates.”

Gulgarin looked down at the map and growled low. “Who leads the reinforcements?”

Maernok glanced up, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. “Are you volunteering?”

Gulgarin’s devilish grin widened and he offered a simple nod.

Maernok rose from his stool. “I will lead a direct assault with the ram. It is the only way to answer Lepkin’s display today. You will lead the others.”

Gulgarin tossed his drinking horn to the side and beat his chest with a fist. “Tomorrow will be a glorious day!” He turned on his heels and shouted out as he exited the chamber, “Prepare my horse, now!”

*****

Maernok walked behind the ranks of soldiers gathered before the hills. The sun was only now beginning to peek over the eastern horizon. All the orcs stood still, their armor wet with the morning dew. They wore silent, grim expressions. Some had painted their faces black, others concealed all but their tusks behind masks of steel. Behind the orcs on foot were several score atop goargs. The commander cut to his left and started making his way through the rows of soldiers. When he emerged out the front of the formation, he was met by sergeant Drisaerk.