Chapter 4
A Traitor's Due
AN 1216 (AZ 1453) - Spring
Thermodas Forest, Notos
It was only after the capture of the village that Urgill learned of the great things the Firebringer Tribe had accomplished. The great city in the north had fallen into their hands and the West Wind Tribe was driven back into the western cities, where they had remained ever since. It would seem the day of final victory was at hand, which meant that she could return in triumph to her home with valiant allies at her side to throw off the yoke of the Death-speaker. It was a good time. The promised day was near, so very near.
Firmly believing this, Urgill could bear the long moons of roving through the forest. Spring would come and they would make the final push the drive the West Wind Tribe into the sea. It would be glorious.
However, not all of their number shared her faith and hopeful expectation. Ten Orghim, a couple Trollim and nearly a dozen thrall-beasts, about a third of their number, banded together to confront her. Sensing ill will, her more loyal warriors took up arms to set themselves between her and them.
It was Orgruk who led them, one of her best warriors, famed for crushing skulls with his stone club no other Org could wield. He was not one Urgill wished to see set against her.
"How long, Ukhromgin?" he asked. "How long must we be made to wait? How many winters must pass while our people suffer under the Death-speaker's lash?"
"Why do you approach me as an enemy, Orgruk, son of Orgnun?" she asked. "Why do you need warriors and thrall-beasts at your back? When have I failed to turn my ear to my good and faithful servants?"
Urgill emphasized the 'good and faithful' in an attempt, however weak it might have been, to shame Orgruk and his followers. A few of the warriors with him did not share Orgruk's bold confidence. So long as Urgill could manage him, this conflict would be brought to an end, but he posed a daunting opponent.
"It has been four winters since we left our homes and we have tasted battle only twice," Orgruk said. "The humans esteem us lightly. We are no more than thrall-beasts to them, to be kept in a pen to grow fat and weak in idleness. Are we not warriors?"
As much as she did not wish it to be true, Urgill feared he was right. No, she knew he was right. They were scorned and despised. They were not equal partners, not true allies, but she wanted to believe otherwise and that desire overruled all other concerns.
"A warrior obeys his chieftain," she told him. "So long as we are bound to the Firebringer Tribe, we fight according to the will of their chieftain."
It was something of a coward's answer, to simply bear whatever burden was laid upon you, and Orgruk scowled at her for it.
"This is not what your father would have wanted."
"Who are you, Orgruk, son of Orgnun, to speak to me of my father's will?" she asked sharply. "Do you not remember his words to me? We are to fight for the humans so that they will fight for us."
In anger, Orgruk struck the ground with club, shouting, "The humans have deceived us! We are but tools to be used and discarded. You saw how they dishonored us on the night of our victory. They would have slain us if we did not submit to them. We threw away our pride and our honor for our lives. We are not warriors. We are thralls!"
The warriors with him echoed his words and even those on Urgill's side muttered amongst themselves. She could quickly lose her grip on the war-band if she allowed Orgruk to continue to stir up their hearts against her.
"What then?" she asked. "Would you have us turn our spears on the humans to die like dogs and fail in our task?"
"We have already failed our task!" Orgruk snapped back. "It was impossible from the beginning!"
This cut to the very heart of the matter. In his heart, Orgruk was already defeated. No battle would change that. Defeat was the most sinister of the black goddesses. More often than not, it was long before the battle that she ensnared the heart in her coils and her venom would do its work. For all his strength, Orgruk had succumbed to Defeat's venom and could not be saved. How many of the others were beyond saving?
The best Urgill could do was show how little Orgruk had to offer. Perhaps that would be enough to turn the others away from him.
"What do you mean to do then?" she asked.
"We return," Orgruk said. "We tell your father there is no faith to be found in men. We leave Shildur and go west, beyond the Death-speaker's reach."
Urgill balked at this, saying, "You would lay dishonor upon dishonor, not only abandoning our task but our home as well?"
Orgruk was not so easily shamed, though.
"We have been dishonored since the day the Death-speaker made slaughter upon our war-bands. If we cannot have honor, we should at least seek life."
Those were not the words of a warrior but of a thrall, to cast aside all honor to preserve your life. It was for honor that they came across the sea and it was for honor that they would remain until their work here was done. Urgill could accept nothing less.
"Not while I live," she told him. "Not while I live will I allow this shame."
Her words were practically an invitation to be killed and Orgruk certainly took it as such. Hoisting up his club and resting it on his shoulder, Orgruk replied, "Then I challenge you, Ukhromgin."
"You cannot, Orgruk," one of Urgill's warriors said. "She has the blood of kings. You will bring down the curse of the gods."
"You'll curse us all!" another cried.
"No!" Urgill shouted. Now was the time for her to prove herself bolder than the Defeat-stricken warrior. "If I can be defeated, then the gods have forsaken me and no true blood of kings runs in my veins. There will be no blood-guilt."
"Can she do that?" a beast-master asked his companion.
"She's closer to the gods than us," his companion replied. "She should know."
Orgruk's mouth twisted into a grin.
"You are no craven, Ukhromgin, I grant you that. For that, I will grant you a quick death."
"I can make you no such promise, Orgruk, son of Orgnun," Urgill replied.
"What will become of those of us who sided with the loser?" a fretful Org asked.
"If I win, those of you with Orgruk will follow me without question," Urgill said. "If Orgruk wins, those who side with me will follow him. The victor will not punish the followers of the vanquished. Do you agree?"
Orgruk nodded and said, "It is good."
To the entire war-band, Urgill said, "You have all witnessed the pledge. The gods' curse on any who break it."
"Let us begin," Orgruk said.
Urgill nodded and waved away those clustered on either side.
"Clear the field."
The warriors and their thrall-beasts withdrew to form a large circle around Urgill and Orgruk. Marah Sidhe stepped forward to preside over the duel.
In a loud voice she declared, "Orgruk, son of Orgnun, challenges Urgill, daughter of Orgun. In the sight of the gods and these warriors, they shall fight to the death or until one surrenders."
"No," Urgill said. "No surrender. To death."
"Aye," Orgruk agreed.
"To death then," Marah Sidhe replied. "By strength of arms and sharpness of wits, one shall be the victor and one shall be the vanquished. Take up your arms of choice and begin."
Urgill took up her ax and began to approach Orgruk. He was bigger than her, with longer arms and a weapon nearly as long as he was tall. He could easily kill her well before she could even think about landing a blow on him.
Looking to make good on his promise to give her a quick death, Orgruk swung his club overhead and brought it down mightily, sinking the club's head deep into the earth. Urgill hopped to the side and dodged the blow, but she would not have been so lucky in the broad sweep that followed if Orgruk did not have to struggle to free the club from the ground first. The delay gave Urgill the time she needed to dodge it as well, a stroke that unbalanced Orgruk besides.
Urgill rushed forward to strike, but Orgruk quickly regained his bearing and swung to the side, catching Urgill with the shaft of his club. Though it was a light blow, it knocked Urgill off her feet. Orgruk then righted himself and drew the club back for another overhead swing, this time for the kill, but as he prepared to swing, he stopped short and made a pained expression. He looked down to his trailing leg and Urgill wasted no time taking advantage of the distraction.
She scrambled forward and struck the ankle of his leading foot. Orgruk yelped from the pain, but before he could do anything about it, she twisted the ax free and cut into the meat of his thigh. She chopped away two more times, then swung the ax into his belly. She tried to yank it free, but it was stuck.
Even though it was intended for another purpose, she took her honor knife and began to stab Orgruk repeatedly in the gut. Orgruk dropped his club, but he was far from dead. He took hold of Urgill's head and pressed down to crush her skull. His wounded leg buckled under him, though, causing him to release her. Before he could seize her again, Urgill drove her honor knife into his temple pushing it down as far as it would go. And with that, Orgruk was dead.
Though exhausted from the ordeal, Urgill rose to her feet. Marah Sidhe walked over to her and held up her blood-stained hand.
"The victor: Urgill, daughter of Orgun."
Urgill had to take a moment to catch her breath before she could address the war-band.
"You who sided with Orgruk, I forgive you this time," she said. "Stand against me again and none shall be spared."
"What of Orgruk?" one of would-be mutineers asked.
"Leave him for bird and beast," Urgill replied dismissively.
A quiet came over the war-band and they dispersed, leaving Urgill alone with Marah Sidhe and Orgruk's corpse.
"You are blessed by the gods after all, Ukhromgin," the Trolwif said.
"Was it the gods that stiffened Orgruk's leg?" Urgill asked.
Marah Sidhe betrayed only the faintest hint of a smile as she said, "The gods need a helping hand at times."
"At times I wonder if you even believe in the gods."
Marah Sidhe did not answer her, at least not directly. Though no one but an Urg herself was supposed to touch her honor knife, Marah Sidhe nevertheless plucked the knife out of Orgruk's head and offered it to her.
"Come, Ukhromgin," she said, "your warriors would not be contemplating rebellion if they were not so idle. Let us give them work to do."
"What would you suggest?" Urgill asked.
"This forest has been our home for many moons. What if we were to make it permanent?"
She could not possibly mean what Urgill thought she meant.
"Are you saying you would abandon our homeland?"
As was her custom, the Trolwif's reply was noncommittal.
"Perhaps there are those who would wish to remain," she said. "We have helped the Firebringer Tribe win this land. Should we not claim a portion for ourselves? If things were to go ill for us, this place could be a refuge so that a remnant of our peoples would survive."
Any other day, Urgill would have rejected the notion out of hand, but after what had happened, she paid it some serious thought. Could there be a place for them in this land? It was a harsh land with all its green and the baleful light of the Yellow Face, but as the years passed, she found herself acclimating to it. Would not the same be true of the rest of her people? Could they not find refuge here, far from the Death-speaker?
"If nothing else," Marah Sidhe continued, "it would put their hands to some use until we battle again."
She did have a point.
"I will consider it," Urgill replied.
Marah Sidhe rubbed Urgill's head, as a parent would a child. It was not a gesture that should be forgiven, but free of the gaze of any others, she would allow it. After all, who was more loyal to her? It forgave much.