Fallen Crown (Orc Destiny Volume II) (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (13 page)

Crossing the top of the temple, he passed his gloved hand
over the dais and continued on towards the front of the platform. Looking down
the hundreds of stairs, he watched as the inhabitants of the city prepared to
celebrate the completion of his greatest creation. Everywhere meat was being
cooked, and goblins danced and played instruments as trolls and Orcs tried
their luck at games of chance. The city was perfection. Of course there were
incidents. There would always be those who did not conform, but Gnak had them
dealt with permanently. After all… for many to live, some would have to be
sacrificed. Besides, a little bloodshed now and then kept his people’s violent
side satiated.

Climbing down the seemingly endless stairs, Gnak ducked into
a small door hidden upon the shadowed side of the temple and traversing the
dark corridor, he entered one of his favorite rooms in the whole city. Here
great columns supported the weight of the temple above, and those who had been
sacrificed, and thrown through the great hole in the ceiling above, came to a
sudden rest here as they shattered upon the floor after their throats had been
slit before the masses.

Here, among the dead, he could speak to those he wished.
Those he carried with him. Reaching within he pulled forth a small ball of
light and cast it into one of the broken bodies. The room then began to swirl
and when it relented he was in a new room. This one was neither dark nor damp,
but instead was lavishly decorated with iron and bones.

A great chair formed of the bones of giants encompassed the
center of the room, though Gnak walked past it to look out the window. From
here he could see even beyond the walls of the city to the great winding road
that climbed up to the mouth of the skull. Upon the road an army marched up to
his gates, but Gnak was not afraid. He would kill them all and then make them
dance for his own entertainment.

Turning, he strode to the opposite corner of the room where
stood a great mirror of polished silver. Adjusting his breastplate, he looked
into its depths and admired the goblin king looking back at him.

* * * * *

Gnak imagined it was sometime that night, or perhaps the
next, when he felt the kick to his leg.

“Methinks he dead,” said a familiar voice.

“Is no dead. Is sleep,” another familiar voice replied.

“He ugly Orcsie. Looks his hands. And no ear too!” the first
voice said.

“Is battle scar. Is proud.”

“So says Orcsie. Lets us takes him.”

Feeling himself hefted aloft, Gnak reached up and wiped the
dust from his eye with one boney finger.

“You right. He’s not dead,” the Goblin king smirked to Bota.

“Bota says you this. Now we take. Go.”

Without further warning, Bota dropped him unceremoniously
into a cart as the goblin king hopped in beside him. Gnak felt as Bota began
dragging the cart forward at a quickening pace through the darkness. Faster and
faster his second-in-command pulled the cart as he was jostled this way and
that uncomfortably. Though even so, he managed to roll to one side and seek out
the goblin king to see what their plan was.

“Where take Gnak?”

“To camp, Orcsie. Chief gone two night. We must hurry or
we’ll run out of time.”

“Why hurry?” Gnak asked.

“Gathos cannots remains without a leader for long. So fars
your captains haves kept everything movings as it should, but the big chief has
left, many, many clans with no chief. Now is time for Orcsie to strike!”

Gnak listened through his pain, realizing that if what the
goblin said was true, there might never be a better time than the present to
unite the clans. But how could he fight? His body was destroyed. There was no
telling if he would even recover. If infection set in, he would be a goner for
sure. He needed to reason it out.

“Gnak no can fight. Look,” Gnak said, raising his all but
missing fingers for the goblin to see.

“Gnak can fight,” the goblin replied.

“How? All body broken. Take long heal. Maybe no heal.”

“Chief nots be fighting with swords. Chief be fighting with magic!”
the goblin king explained.

It was true. He didn’t
have
to fight with his hands.
It was much easier to simply touch them and… but he didn’t
have
to touch
them either! He had used his power several times on the field of battle without
actually touching anything. Of course… all of
those
subjects had been
dead. Could he simply summon the will from a living creature? Was it possible?
If it was, then he could do exactly as the goblin king suggested. He could
challenge any foe from a distance and simply take their will. Once frozen in
place, he could do as he pleased with them. The goblin was right. Now, while
all was in confusion, was the time to strike.

Rising to a sitting position, he did his best to ignore the
pain. He needed to know everything.

“You say Gnak gone two day?” he asked.

“Yes, we haves a camp set a few miles south of the pass.”

“How many clan left?”

“Almost a thousand Orcs, you were ables to saves most. We
lost more. There are three thousand goblins left.”

“Tell me other clans,” Gnak said, then sat back against the
side of the cart to listen.

“Many clans near to Gathos. Many camps. Many in struggle for
power. Some leave soon. Must hurry.”

On and on the goblin king chattered about the other clans,
speaking of their sizes and telling which ones already had new chiefs. Gnak
tried to listen as best as he was able, but even so it seemed like forever
before the goblin told him the most surprising news of all.

“Big chief injured bad bad. Some says he die soon. Me hears
there aints many who will fight to take his place. Maybe none.”

“What you plan?” Gnak asked.

“Take Gnak. Fix this,” he said, pointing to both his hands
and face. “Then Gnak unite the clans. No big chief, no problem.”

It sounded easy enough, but it would only work
if
he
could remove the will from a living host at a distance as had done with the
dead just days ago.

“Gnak not know if work. Gnak no try… live thing,” he said,
trying to convey his concern.

“Then Orcsie should try before we get back,” the goblin king
said with a twitch of his head.

Taking his meaning, Gnak turned in the cart. Ahead of him
Bota ran as fast as his feet would carry them, hauling the cart behind him like
a beast of burden. Raising his skeletal hand, Gnak summoned the orb of Bota’s
will to himself and watched as things unfolded.

Freezing mid-stride, the cart smashed into Bota from behind,
throwing him forward to land on his face. Such was its momentum that the cart
continued on, rolling over and crushing Bota beneath its wheels before bouncing
forward, its handles catching upon a rise in the stone floor of the pass. With
such force the cart moved, that it flipped end over end, tossing both Gnak and
the goblin king from its confines, sending both sprawling across the floor of
the pass. Though both hit the stone floor hard, neither was injured beyond that
of their pride, and rising, they both looked to Bota and the cart.

“Now we know,” the goblin king smirked.

“Bota, good Orc,” Gnak replied.

“Then bring him back,” the goblin king suggested.

“No. Is not same. Is never same. Gnak keep safe. Take with.”

For the remainder of the night Gnak walked with the goblin
king, passing out of the mountains and into the soil and sand beyond. He fought
hour after hour to stay upright, ignoring his pain, even as each movement felt
like his last. It was early morning when they approached the first of the camps
they would find before reaching their own. Without so much as a pause to
consider it, Gnak and his goblin companion strode into the camp, demanding that
their chief present himself and kneel before Gnak.

From out of a tent a massive Orc came. Upon his shoulders he
wore the skulls of bears and around his neck was a collection of human ears.
The chief of this clan had fared well at the battle and appeared to have
returned unscathed. Gnak eyed his opponent through his visor with his one good
eye. It was good he would not have to fight the man.

“Come. Kneel here. Say clan, Gnak new chief. If no. You die
here,” Gnak ordered, and pointed at the ground at his feet.

The chief roared in reply and charged, drawing a massive
blade from his back as he came. Pumping as hard as he could, the rampaging Orc
threw up sand in plumes behind him with each stride, but Gnak did not so much
as flinch. Instead, he judged the charging Orc’s speed and size like he would
any charging animal and waited for the exact second he needed. When it arrived,
he raised the remains of one hand and summoned the chief’s will. Face down, the
chief slid through the sand to his feet.

Stepping atop the fallen chief, Gnak looked out among those
who had gathered to witness the impromptu challenge.

“Come. Now you Gathos. Gathos good clan. Strong clan. You
come.”

It took three hours for that first clan to break camp and
gather up all they owned to follow Gnak. His small green companion collected
one of the chief’s bear skulls as a souvenir, though what he intended to do
with it, Gnak did not ask. After their chief, none had bothered to challenge
him and he was thankful for it. The whole of his body sent mind-numbing pain to
his brain with every step. He doubted he could fight if he wanted to. Using
fear of the unknown was better. Just scare them into doing what he wanted and
leave it at that. Later, when he was recovered, he could bash some heads if he
needed to. For now, however, he moved forward with his newly acquired clan
behind him to the next camp they happened across. He was pleased to find it was
his own.

Greeted by cheers as they arrived, the Gathos clan rushed
out to meet them, goblins and all. Though they met his return with pride and
celebration, the looks in their faces upon seeing his condition spoke of things
other than cheerful reunions. Without pause a pair of his captains showed him
to the shaman’s tent, and once there he ducked painfully inside to find the
shaman smoking leaves from a pipe.

“Gnak need heal wounds,” Gnak stated, as if it were not
obvious what he had come for.

He knew the shaman distrusted him, even thought him a demon,
but he also knew that the shaman would not refuse to treat him lest Gnak use
his magic on him. Without a word, the shaman placed his pipe aside and motioned
Gnak nearer.

“No armor, must off,” the shaman stated and Gnak began
peeling armor and flesh from his body.

Grimacing, Gnak pulled each piece from his body, tearing
away small chucks of flesh as the shaman watched on intently. Though he fought
the urge to cry out, upon seeing the condition of his body he could fathom no
reality in which he survived without becoming infected. Nearly every inch of
his flesh had been badly burned, much of it either peeling away altogether, or
cracking and splitting down to the muscle beneath. Here and there a section
remained that was only blistered from the human’s wretched magic, but like his
fingers, his toes were little more than bone, and every one of his joints was
split. Thick blood oozed from hundreds of wounds, and pus was already beginning
to form in pockets beneath his ruined skin. He would likely die in less than a
week unless the shaman worked a miracle.

“Orc medicine can no fix,” the shaman began. “Can take pain
yes. Can make salve, help heal. But no fast. Will not live.”

“Gaghf!” Gnak yelled. How could he do as he was sworn to if
he died? How could he bring Jen back and make up for his failures?

“Orc medicine can no fix,” the shaman repeated. “But human
healer yes.”

Gnak snarled at the man’s reference, and despite the pain he
jumped upon the man for bringing up Jen after having called her a demon so many
months ago. Driving the shaman to the ground upon his back, he raised a
skeletal fist to strike the man, but uninjured, the shaman was faster.

Reaching out, the shaman grasped at the curtain that
separated his tent down the middle, keeping his sleeping area separate from
where he treated the Orcs. With a tug the curtain fell away and as it fluttered
to the ground, Gnak could see that which the shaman had hidden behind it.

In the back corner of the tent sat a human boy in a white
robe. He appeared the size of a human adult, but his features were not yet
mature. Climbing off the shaman, Gnak took a closer look and found the boy was
both bound and gagged. Turning, he sneered back at the shaman for keeping such
a secret from him.

“Is healer?” Gnak demanded.

“Yes. Saw human heal at battle. Captured. Bring here.”

“Why bring?”

“Gnak catch human, get god magic. Kukta want human magic.
Make heal better,” the shaman replied.

By Orc logic it stood to reason. If one Orc could capture a
human healer and become blessed for doing so, why couldn’t another? If nothing
else, perhaps the human could have taught the shaman something useful. Though
not like this. No. The shaman had planned to sacrifice the boy as Jen had been
sacrificed.

Snatching up one of his blades off the shaman’s floor, he
strode across the tent and yanked the small human to his feet. Though obviously
afraid, the boy did not cry out. Cutting his bonds and the gag from his mouth,
Gnak held up one skeletal hand before the young human’s face, watching his blue
eyes widen in disbelief.

“You healer?” Gnak asked to a replied not. “You listen Gnak.
Heal Gnak. Make good. Gnak let live. Give home. Give woman. Give honor. Give
pride. Then boy teach Gnak talk human more good. Teach Orcs human gods. Yes?”

The boy looked at him a long time as if lifeless, his gangly
limbs unmoving. Though it seemed a simple enough choice to him, Gnak wondered
what it was that the boy was weighing within him. Was it his value of his own
life, or something more? Regardless of what it was that delayed him, it was a
long time before he again nodded, his sandy colored hair half covering his eyes
as his head bobbed up and down. Then, looking up to the chief’s eyes, the boy
spoke to him.