El-Vador's Travels (10 page)

After
making sure the Orc had twitched its last, El-Vador walked out to the
clearing. His arrow had narrowly missed the captive Pixie and
embedded itself in the eye socket of his foe. If any of the Orcs
discovered their kin lying dead in a clearing with an Elven arrow
through his eye they would raise his settlement. If the Orc were to
vanish in the forest, never to be seen again, who could say for
certain what had befallen him? It was a chance he had to take now so
that the Orcs wouldn't immediately think of Elves. The other Elves
seemed too cowed to possibly attempt such a thing. El-Vador was
banking on their meek pacifism to help him for once.

The
Pixie was like something out of the tales of the Faerie that the
elders in his settlement spoke of, the wings sprouting from her back
were beyond description and not like those of an insect or bird.
Somehow they did not seem out of place on a body that seemed Elven in
appearance, if slighter and more pale in complexion.

She
still breathed, the fall had bruised her arms and legs but there were
no markings on her head or face from the fall to suggest concussion.
Her appearance was marred by the ugly bruise the Orc had given her,
it didn't look overly dangerous though.

With
that in mind El-Vador came to a decision. Taking hold of the Orc's
boots and dragging him back through the forest. He knew that a river
was nearby and if he could somehow haul the body there and submerge
it, those that came looking for him would not discover his fate.

Before
pushing the body into the river, he went back and carefully erased
every sign of the Orc having been in the clearing, including most of
the not inconsiderable trail that it had left getting here. By the
time he was finished he felt his strength failing him, he needed to
get back to the body and dispose of it.

After
he had completely submerged the body he was soaked from head to foot.
Having taken care of that last detail, he went back to the clearing
to check on the Pixie only to be greeted by emptiness, she had
vanished.

El-Vador came back home carrying an old wolf he had mercifully killed
that had crawled out into the woods to die and chanced upon his path.

'What
happened to you?' His father asked from the bedroom. 'You look like
you washed up outside the front door.'

'I
dumped a corpse in the river.' answered El-Vador, deadpan. Yet saying
those words somehow gave his actions meaning, he had finally killed
his first Orc. It had felt strange.

Cusband
struggled out of bed and advanced toward him, somehow he still
appeared intimidating, even in his sickness. 'You did what?' he
asked, the ominous tone in his voice held no potential retribution
but still stirred feelings in El-Vador. 'How could you do such a
foolish thing?'

El-Vador
maintained eye-contact with his father, it was important that he saw
the reaction. 'I saved the life of a Pixie in the woods from the Orc,
nobody will find him.'

There
it was, the fear deep in his father's eyes at the mention of that. He
had expected the man to dismiss his claims as delusional fairy tales,
yet he did not. Clearly he knew more than he was letting on, this
just clarified what El-Vador had already known since his encounter in
the cave. His father was craven and withholding information from him.

Gathering
himself, he asked, 'Why won't you tell me what's going on, father?'

'I
can't do that son, events are in motion that I have no say over. You
must do as you see fit without being influenced by me.'

'Then I shall go on without you.' El-Vador replied, turning away
from him.

'Don't you walk away from me boy.' Cusband said in a dangerous tone.
'You're still my son and you'll do as you're told.'

Without
hesitation, El-Vador knocked him down. When he got up, there was a
wild look of disbelief in his eyes. He aimed a weak swing at
El-Vador's head, only to get knocked down once again by his son. When
Cusband struggled to reach his feet a third time, El-Vador offered
him a hand. 'I am my own man now father, I shall live and die by my
own choices, nobody else’s.'

Cusband
shook his head to clear it, El-Vador had not held back with the
second blow. 'You have a hard hand with your lessons.'

'You taught me well, father. You're a very stubborn man, it was the
only way I could make you understand.'

'I
see now that it was wrong of me to attempt to forbid you anything,
long have you been looking after both of us now as a man of the
household would.' setting a hand on his son's shoulder, Cusband
continued speaking with gruff affection, the admission was clearly
hard for him. 'I believe in you. I don't know if I will live to see
the day but I know you will drive them off.'

He
silently vowed that his father would be free one last time before
this sickness took him.

Vows are easily spoken in anger and defiance, reality often has
other plans regardless of how vehemently you swear a thing. I no
longer promise a thing, for even I cannot see all ends that could
potentially break such a cast-iron claim.

G
urgash
picked his way along a path in the woods barely wider than the spread
of his shoulders. He clutched his spear with both hands, ready to
impale anything that burst out from among the trees. Behind him
marched Harg, whose grip on his pike was much looser but belied the
fact that he was equally alert. As far as Gurgash knew, there were no
other Orcs in the area they had been sent out to scout.

'Hurglug!' he called. 'Where in Gurthag's name are you?'

He
felt as if he were exposing himself to an army of secret Elven
warriors with every cry, yet they had been tasked with finding the
missing Orc, dead or alive.

Harg
muttered at his shoulder, 'If we do find the pissing fool we should
tan his hide brown for making us venture this far beyond the
boundaries.'

'That's assuming his hide isn't already being used as the skin for
an Elven war drum.' replied Gurgash before returning to calling.
'Hurglug! Have you gone deaf?'

Harg
took issue with his previous words. 'Did you see any war drums when
we last fought the Elves? Hurglug is no drum. Besides, his skin is
far too thick for such a fate.'

Gurgash
couldn't think of a single Orc who wouldn't have enjoyed Hurglug
suffering so. The fat fool was nothing but trouble for everyone and
everything around him. He wouldn't be surprised if he had somehow
taken a wrong turn and got himself killed by a tree.

'I
know that look on your face cousin, I want to go back to the warmth
of the fort too.' said Harg. 'We're not here for his sake though, we
need to know if the Elves got him or not. Like him or not he was
decent in a fight, if someone sprung something on him then perhaps
the forests hold a resistance force of some kind.'

He
had been missing for a whole week now. None of the search parties had
found any trace of him, the possibility of him living was slim but
they called him by name all the same.

After
another hour's trudge through the dark, gloomy forest, Gurgash
stopped caring what had happened to Hurglug. All he cared about was
making sure the same thing, whatever it had been, did not happen to
him or Harg. 'We'll never prove he was killed by an Elf, they're not
likely to leave traces when they know we'll torch their settlement.'

'Knowing Sarvacts he'll probably torch it anyway.' said Harg.

'None of the other Elves look likely to off Hurglug, no matter how
angry our occupation makes them.' said Gurgash. 'Except the boy.'

'The boy?' mused Harg. 'Doesn't look like much of a boy any more,
could well have done Hurglug in if you ask me.'

'He's always out this way in the woods too.' said Gurgash, the
pieces beginning to fall together.

'You've seen the looks he's given us.' said Harg. 'Wouldn't be a
stretch to think if he stumbled across one of us out here he'd damn
the consequences and hunt us down.'

It
was just a theory, but it was gaining traction the more they
considered it. Better that they suggest Sarvacts make an example of
the kid than raise the entire settlement. The time for battle had
long passed, there was no sense in massacring any others needlessly.

A
stream lapped and splashed nearby. Gurgash's parched throat informed
him that it was time to change direction. 'Shall we fill our bottles,
cousin?' he asked, pointing. 'The springs are unnaturally fresh out
here in the woods.'

'We don't have time for such diversions.' Harg took a canteen from
his belt and held it out to his cousin. 'You want a sip of my black
stuff instead?'

Gurgash
turned his nose up at that foul Orcish grog, his cousin knew he had
no stomach for it.

Harg
made a deliberate show of savouring the dark liquid, then motioned
for them to move deeper into the woods.

El-Vador
watched as the Orcs retreated from the stream, they had been so close
to potentially discovering the resting place of their bloated
comrade. For now the secret of his location remained with him, he
stopped pushing his luck while shadowing them. Had he been revealed
they would have wondered what he was doing out here so far from the
settlement. Judging from the conversation he had overheard, he was
both their prime suspect and their scapegoat. He had considered
shooting them but that would have led to more disappearances and more
questions, too many for the settlement to survive. Especially with
the likes of Sarvacts still in the area.

No,
for now he would remain silently watchful, preparing for the
inevitable conflict soon to come.

When
El-Vador returned with more pelts and meat for his father, he was
greeted with bad news. 'Chief Sarvacts has returned to the
settlement once more.'

'He has?' cried El-Vador. He stifled the instinct to grab an arrow
and hunt the Orc down. 'What is he doing there?'

'Well, they say he came because of the Orcish soldier who
disappeared near the settlement,' answered Cusband. 'The first time
he said that, I feared he was going to punish us even if his men
never found the creature's body.'

'The Orcish soldier who disappeared,' echoed El-Vador, he felt the
invisible noose tightening. Sarvacts had come looking for him.

'I
told him you were out hunting and that you wouldn't be back for some
time.' said Cusband unhappily. 'He was right here, inside our house.'

This
gave El-Vador pause, Sarvacts had actually come here to ask for him
specifically? 'He must have asked his men which Elves spent long
periods in the woods.' He didn't mention that he had overheard the
entire conversation that placed the blame solely and correctly on
him.

'Don't go after him El-Vador, kill Sarvacts alone and the rest of us
will suffer.'

'The temptation is there but I'm not stupid,' replied El-Vador.

'Yes, we both know what you have to do,' said Cusband. 'I just had
to make sure that I didn't need to temper your youthful spontaneity.'

'I
am a man now father, you admitted as much yourself. ' El-Vador
reminded him, not liking that his father thought him a bloodthirsty
animal.

'You may well be a man but you are a young one at that, I have
always urged patience and caution to you, let us not falter in our
plans now. We lost the first fight against the cursed Orcs, do you
suppose we'll stay quiet under their heels forever? Things have a way
of changing.'

Oh
they would change, soon. Spring had arrived and El-Vador was nearly
ready to strike.

Mugrab's
farm flourished in the spring weather, he had grown accustomed to the
harsh climate of the mountains now and had managed his expectations
during the colder season. Now there was more land that was workable
and more time in which to let his crops grow, for that he was
thankful.

Though
he had other Orcs for neighbours, Mugrab still carried a weapon
wherever he went. He seldom saw Elven folk, and not seeing them
suited him just fine. They seemed docile for now, but that couldn't
last forever, Mugrab had a feeling in his gut and his gut was rarely
wrong. When they finally did retaliate, Mugrab knew that he wouldn't
go down unprepared or without a fight.

He
did not think that the Elves were a naturally violent people, in
spite of reports he had heard about the initial battles. Then there
was El-Vador and the strange relationship they had developed after
his choosing to be merciful.

When
the Elf reappeared after winter, he came out from behind a tree at
the edge of Mugrab's farm with such silent grace, he might have been
standing there for some little while before the Orc noticed him.

'El-Vador, you return.' said Mugrab, and then, cautiously, 'Have you
come to end me then?' He still had his pike with him but he was under
no illusions about who would come out alive in a fight between them.

The
Elf neither confirmed nor denied that he would kill him. 'I told you
to leave before there was violence.' he said. 'You have one more
chance to depart, after which the killing shall start.'

'On to our last chances then?' Mugrab asked. 'You would kill a
defenceless farmer in cold blood?'

'If that is what is needed of me.' El-Vador seemed surprised at the
question. 'You are not just a simple farmer, you are an Orcish
farmer. You take our lands just as the other invaders have done, even
if you have not raised a blade to do so.'

Mugrab
wondered whether every Elf stored that hatred deep inside, if much
like El-Vador it just waited for the right time to burst forth and
destroy the Orcish foes. Though they were not warriors, the Elves
still far outnumbered the Orcs. That wasn't something that was going
to change for a long time.

'Has winter treated you well?' Mugrab tentatively asked.

'I
have survived it.' answered El-Vador, showing no sign of wanting to
speak further.