The blanket of snow had rendered the village silent and deserted. Kaj arrived at the sanctuary and knocked on its door. He heard approaching footsteps, and sure enough, the door opened. It was Clarice.
With a nod, she let him in. Youll have to buy me a drink, Oloice, she said, satisfied.
Ill be damned! I hate to admit it, but you were right, said Oloice, to his chagrin.
Im always right! she replied.
I have to apologize to both of you. I wasnt at my finest, said Kaj.
Then have your a nice mug of beer and lets put all of the misunderstandings to rest, proposed Oloice, as he approached to pat Kaj on the arm.
Thank you, Oloice, but not now said Kaj, to a stupefied Oloice.
You must be joking, he replied.
I already drank too much last night. Offer it to Clarice, he suggested.
Ha! If I indulged in drink every time Oloice offered, Id be a wreck!
Why do you think I travel with an elf? More alcohol for me! quipped the dwarf contentedly. Youre such party poopers, the both of you!
Clarice smiled, shaking her head. Then she turned serious: Were leaving tomorrow. I think you should go tell Cilna. She cares about you a great deal.
Kaj nodded. Shes like a sister to me. I owe her an explanation. Ill pay her a visit tomorrow.
Night descended upon the village, and with it, silence. Kaj was lying on his cot. The gloomy and rhythmic hooting of an owl marked the passage of time, and the man imagined that it was Vesid (or Ebarul, as the elves called her), the evanescent goddess of foresight and wisdom. Humans invoked Vesid in order to find their way again, and if the goddess deemed them worthy, she would light the way with her lantern.
Clarice was looking out the window, toward the west. The conversation shed had with Oloice a few days back came to mind. The dwarf had expressed his doubts about Kaj, but instead of sowing doubt in her, hed just convinced her that shed done well to keep searching. She was the one who found the medallion and the glimmer it emitted; now that it was around Kajs neck, it had to mean he was a descendant of Aidan IIIs lineage, just like in the manuscripts at Nidath shed read. She was worried about the journey aheadthere was a lot of snow, and they would certainly have to make frequent stops in order to avoid freezing.
Can I bother you? said Kaj, giving her a start.
Its no bother, said the elf, motioning for the man to come closer.
Cant sleep?
No. My minds racing, she admitted.
What are you thinking about?
A lot and nothing at the same time. Though I think you deserve to know something about me The elf stopped for a moment, waiting for his response.
Do tell. Im listening.
As Ive told you, I come from the Red Rises, and my family used to produce and sell fermented juice. Until, one night, Djazrem slavers came to the region and looted the village. In all the turmoil, I lost sight of my parents, and so they captured me to sell me along with the other children
She stopped, alarmed by the odd noises coming from outside. She promptly hushed Kaj, whod been about to comment on her story.
Kajs eyes asked her what was going on.
Dont you hear? she said under her breath.
Kaj strained his ears, and suddenly, he heard quick and heavy footsteps on the wooden bridge. They leaned out the window, and saw the dancing flames of a number of torches. One look was all it took to have them gripping their own arms.
Oloice! Wake up! shouted Clarice, hitting the dwarf so hard she almost pushed him off the bed.
Whats going on!? he exclaimed, shocked.
Theyre attacking the village! Orcs! Kaj yelled, at the door.
Oloice took up his axe and dashed out of the sanctuary. Why here?
The elf shook her head. No idea!
Both followed Oloice into the fray and traded blows with the orcs. There were around twenty in all; only rarely were orcs seen in such numbers beyond the Slumbering Peaks. Some were short, and some were tall, but all were brawny, with large swords, hefty spiked clubs and two-headed axes in hand. Their characteristic greenish skin was leathery, and they proudly sported ritual scars and war paints on their wrinkled snouts. Their clothes were smelly and dirty, made from parts of armor sewn together, combined with fur, wool, and chain mail. They wore trophies such as teeth, ears or fingers around their necks. The stench was unbearable.
The enemy had entered some houses, using torches to set fires. The furnishings of those homes burned, and the flames flared up, affecting the support beams of the rooves. The stones they were composed of split due to the contrast between the heat of the blaze and the icy air exterior. Kaj looked around and saw the tavern burning. The contents of the barrels of beer and mead fed the conflagration, and the bottles of booze burst. On the other hand, the thatched rooves were resisting the flames thanks to the melting snow dampening the beams.
The battle raged on. The orcs were formidable adversaries; some had bypassed the defenses and set fire to the other side of Fenan as well. The villages inhabitants gathered in droves at the grand square, the monstrous beasts chasing them down and disemboweling anyone they could reach. The group of soldiers whod left Fenan in previous days had tailed the monsters here. Arriving, they squared off against some of the orcs.
Meanwhile, Kaj helped some take shelter from both the orcs and the fires. The thick shroud of smoke had him coughing and his eyes burning. He took on some of the orcs, then glanced at Oloice, who was swinging his axe with fervor. He also saw Clarice a little further on; she had just made short work of a big and heavy one. While he was distracted, an orc rushed him, and Kaj managed by some miracle to fend off its sword, avoiding a lethal blow. He took advantage of the orcs sluggishness to injure it on the leg and back. The enemy gave Kaj a scratch on the arm, and the man groaned in sudden pain, though he managed to pierce its throat clean through in retaliation.
Cilna ran to see him, weeping. Kaj, theyre dead! she cried out, devastated by the loss of her parents. Help me! Please!
Kajs heart turned heavy, but she couldnt be with him, so he accompanied her to some others. Stay with them, Cilna.
He then went to the bridge and, together with Clarice and the militiamen, killed the last remaining orcs.
Get the survivors out of here! ordered the Commander of the group, after the clash ended.
Thank the gods youve arrived! exclaimed the elf.
We shouldve predicted theyd come here, admitted the militiaman bitterly.
The village lay in ruins; few were the houses that had not been affected by the flames, and the safest structure was the sanctuary. Some militiamen moved the seriously injured to the building, while the others were assembled to be taken to a camp for survivors that was under development in the Heathermoor. Oloice and Kaj made sure that the orcs were all dead and that no one was trapped under wreckage. Cilna refused to leave Kaj, and screamed his name. She tried to make her way over to the man. One of the warriors held her back, but she managed to free herself from his grip and run off. After just a few steps, a house collapsed in front of her, frightening her; the road was now blocked by a burning beam. The young woman screamed at Kaj, who spotted her and ran to meet her.
Go with them, Cilna; theyll take you to safety, he urged.
But I want to go with you, Kaj! she protested, crying.
Go with them, Cilna; theyll take you to safety, he urged.
But I want to go with you, Kaj! she protested, crying.
The man shook his head. You cant. My journey will be a dangerous one, he said. Youll be kept safe, and Ill come back as soon as I can, I promise you.
Clarice was behind him. Dont make promises, she said harshly, holding out her things.
A militiaman grabbed Cilna, lifting her up and bringing her back with the group. Kaj felt distressed by what had happened, and shocked by that unexpected battle. Oloice joined him and Clarice, and handed his things to the elf. The two gripped each others wrists in greeting. Clarice raised her hand to her heart and bowed, while Oloice thumped his chest. Kaj thus gleaned how deep their friendship was.
Clarice and Kaj set off on their march. Dawn would break shortly, and the long and intricate paths through the thick of the Shadetrail were the only way forward.
*Much further south, amidst the Shrouded Hills, tulvaren troops led by Zund arrived after two weeks of travel. Fording the Black River, they entered the territory of the Twin Liegedoms. The Shrouded Hills were part of Kelast County, administered by Jarl Hurley, the trusted bishop of King Osman IV, who had entrusted him with the task of protecting the Savorfruit Hillocks when the next invasion occurred. Hurley was an excellent leader, and had managed to defend the Kelasts Bastion much longer than expected.
Behind the County, the Twin Liegedoms, headed by the nobles Pugh and Alston, had surrendered to the invaders after witnessing the defeat of Jarl Hurley at the hands of King Athal, pledging to deliver two thirds of their annual fruit harvest to the tulvars.
That day, a messenger from the outpost on the Black River was riding fast toward the High Liegedom. He left the horse at the entrance of the city and ran toward Pughs Palace. Exhausted, he collapsed in front of the noblemans desk, who (with some difficulty) rose from his armchair and stood before the messenger. His prominent belly, big arms and his impressive rump allowed him to inspire a not inconsiderable amount of awe, to say nothing of his face, marked as it was by his supreme passion for wine, sweets, and meats. Thick black eyebrows topped his beady brown eyes, and his outsize nose was pockmarked and glossy. Pugh wore clothes almost as old as he was, and he was well over sixty years old. The red woolen garment that reached his knees was discolored and stained. His bellys girth was further highlighted by a creased brown leather belt. The light-colored linen under-tunic poked out from the sleeves of his garment, and their ends had been mended several times over. His high leather boots were also shabby and discolored. His head was always covered by a white cap and a blue woolen beret. The only thing that made him recognizable as the Lord of the city was his thick and heavy gold necklace, attached to an equally heavy, emerald-studded medallion with the emblem of the Pughs.
Why the haste? asked Pugh, sipping from his chalice.
General Zund is currently traveling down the road to your palace, he gasped.
Pughs eyes widened, his wine going down the wrong pipe. Why didnt you say that right away!? he shouted, spitting up his drink. I should have you thrown into the dungeons, and leave you at the mercy of the beast! By now he had turned purple.
The man, prostrate at his feet, was about to be seized by the tunic by the noblemans fat hand when the blare of the rampart horn echoed through the city. Pugh stiffened, and treaded with heavy steps toward the window. Zund was at the gates; he had no time to spare for the messenger. And so he left him alone in the library as coldly as hed welcomed him, frantically exiting the building to receive his guest.
Pugh said Zund, disgust written all over his face.
Great General Zund, began a panting Pugh adoringly. What an immense honor! What can I do for you, as your humble servant?
Zunds red eyes leered at him. He loathed the deal his father had struck, and despised that useless stooge human even more. The King was disappointed in the quality of the tribute last month: withered, sour-tasting fruit.
Pugh paled, and searched for the right words. Grand General we I have looked for the best fruits The tulvars silence seemed endless to the man; he felt his eyes on him, and did not dare to raise his head.
I ought to punish you, but unfortunately Im here for another reason, said Zund.
The man gulped loudly, unable to say a solitary word. He guided the General towards his palace, where he himself served bloody meats and fermented keb-brew, made from the juice of kebs, pineapple-like fruits from Alceas that were so pungent that keb-brew was drinkable only by tulvars.
After the banquet, the nobleman really began to shake in his boots. It was never a good sign when Zund appeared. The man remained silent while the tulvar sipped the brew from his metal chalice.
For some animals, youd make for a great meal, with all the fat on you, said Zund.
Definitely, my General, said Pugh, cowed.
Zund took the last sip and then, as if seized by a moment of madness, he rose quickly, for Pugh to find himself with the blade of a tulvaren sword pressed against his throat. The nobleman shivered, squinted his eyes, and held them shut until he felt the cold metal on his skin.
Are you feeding the beast regularly? asked the tulvar.
Of course Pugh answered, trembling as he opened his eyes.
Good. The tulvar sat on the Lords throne. That good-for-nothing Alston is later than usual. You had better make sure hes coming, he concluded with contempt.
At once, General! exclaimed Pugh, flustered and shaken.
In the meantime, Alston of the Low Liegedom had entered the city, and was preparing to appear at the palace. Pugh came out, and soon they were standing in each others company. Short in stature, and dressed in his usual blue velvet clothes, Alston wore a ring-shaped hat, from which a flap of blue cloth descended down one side. Over his chest, he wore a large brooch with his family emblem. His curly, blonde hair covered his ears, framing his long, gaunt face. His hook nose and small mouth did nothing for his looks. The inhabitants of the Low Liegedom often joked that his mother must have laid with a goblin.
Well you took your sweet time! snapped Pugh.
The nobleman looked at him, and with his usual monotone he said: So wheres General Zund?
Pugh started pushing his peer along. Youd best present yourself to him immediately!
Bored and listless, Alston entered the palace. Grand General Zund! I can assure you that we didnt expect you here in the Twin Liegedoms he said, inspiring terror in all the humans present.
Zund walked up to Alston. Your idiocy is unmatched! he shouted angrily. He took the aristocrat by the clothes and forced him to the ground, pressing his face with his foot against the muddy boot tracks mixed with dung and piss. You shall pay for your insolence by crawling to my throne.
Alston crawled across the room, coming to Zunds feet with his clothes soiled. Terrified and trembling, he was sweating profusely, and as soon as the General leaned over him, he burst into tears like a child, his stammering, incomprehensible gibberish punctuated by moans.
Now beg! shouted the tulvar.
Mercy! Have mercy! whined Alston. Ill do anything, Supreme General for you, and for our only King!
Get up, scum! Zund nodded to one of his soldiers, who recalled about twenty tulvars into the palace, and they settled along the walls of the hall; at that point it was clear that they would not leave soon. The door opened, and in stepped Auril, Zunds younger sister. On the orders of the General, Alston was chained and gagged by the soldiers while Pugh took the brunt of Aurils magic. The priestess, with a quick swish of her hand, raised the man from the ground as he moaned fearfully. Aurils invisible power wrapped around Pughs throat, and his feeble flesh was devoid of the strength with which to resist.