Twisted Fate (Orc Destiny Volume I) (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) Read online

  With the rolling cage back under his control, he gave it a shove and once again followed as it picked up speed. This time he let it go as fast as was possible, and as soon as he had it on course he released the reins and simply chased the giant rolling cage of boughs. It would need a great deal of speed and momentum to carry it beyond the foothills and into the sands of the desert below. As it was, midday came as the ball rolled to a stop just a few paces into the sand. With a dozen or so miles left to traverse, Gnak took up the reins once more and pulling one up over each shoulder he grasped them against his chest and leaned forward, beginning to pull. Reluctantly the ball followed, half rolling, half dragging along through the sand, leaving a clear trail in Gnak’s wake.

  Sweating after mere moments in the hot sun, his eyes burned in the bright light as the biting flies swarmed him. Slowly, ever so slowly, he dragged the beast along behind him, cursing the heat, the light, and the bear’s massive carcass. It was nightfall once again as he made it to the outskirts of his camp, covered in swollen lumps from the many bites he had suffered.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Comfortable darkness was reclaiming the land as Gnak dragged his kill into the camp, circumventing the short wall surrounding it. Those out and about gathered to witness his feat, his peers sneering, obviously outdone by his more ambitious prize. Pretending to keep to his task he peered around at the camp, taking in as much as he could while pulling his sword to begin cutting through the vines that lashed the cage together. Within the camp were the usual suspects. A bear here, a mountain lion there, each roasting upon a spit hung over a fire. A dire wolf was a great prize, and he saw two among the kills now roasting, but only one carcass within the camp was large enough in size to rival his own. At least from this vantage. From here, however, he could not tell just what the other large carcass belonged to.

  Turning his attention back to the task at hand, he made a show of cutting the last vines as the boughs relaxed and opened up like a desert flower, spreading to show the ancient bear within. Many nodded in appreciation, a show of respect for the great beast and he the one who slayed it. Putting his sword to the bear’s belly, he sliced it from ribs down between its hind legs to its tail. Reaching within the great creature he pulled out guts and entrails, creating a pile of gruesome flesh in equal proportion to his own body. Once gutted, he set about the task of skinning the great beast with a crowd of onlookers. Most were his peers, the others to enter Catunga with him, but others were elders. These helped him to maneuver the carcass to better remove the hide and head.

  When the gutting and skinning was compete, the hide and head were gathered by an Orc woman for tanning, where she would boil the brains and bush the putrid concoction onto the flesh to keep it from hardening or rotting. Gnak did not know her name. Did not care to, so long as she brought him back his hide when the work was complete.

  The entrails were gathered by a male for use in crafting weapons and armor, before the giant skinned carcass was run through with a long iron rod and, with the help of his elders, Gnak and three others lifted the great bear and carried it to the center of the camp and placed it upon its supports. There it would be rotated for the remainder of the day, following night, and another day before being consumed by his clan.

  It was the role of the strong to hunt, and he had proven to be very strong by providing a great meal for the feast. Such an accomplishment would serve him well at the conclusion of Catunga, for it would be factored into his ability to lead. With his kill roasting upon a spit, liquids already seeping from it to sizzle in the fire, Gnak turned to seek the shaman’s tent for herbs to pack the wound upon his arm with. It was then his eyes fell upon the other massive carcass that was at present being roasted like his own. Had it not been for the head upon the ground near the spit, he still would not have recognized it for what it was. At least not right away.

  There upon the ground lay the severed head of a sand giant. Its giant eye had swiveled back into its head, revealing an orb of white crisscrossed with purple veins. Below the eye was a beak-like nose structure, and below that was a great round mouth filled with row after row of razor–sharp teeth. Upon its head were knobby spikes used for bashing, and even now it looked dangerous. It was small for a giant, probably not yet an adult among their kind, but it was a giant nonetheless. Giants were men, and so were thinking and reasoning creatures. They fought with weapons, even the young ones. His ancient bear was not the best prize among the kills this hunt. Not by a long shot. Though sand giants were smaller than their mountain cousins, they were near impossible to bring down alone. Gnak knew only one Orc besides himself that would dare try. Korx. Once again he had been thwarted by his lifetime rival.

  Angered, Gnak stomped away from the roasting giant, ignoring the enticing scent of its steaming flesh. Across the camp he strode, yanking the flap aside as he stormed into the shaman’s tent. He had not expected to see what he found within, and it angered him further still. There in the tent sat Korx with the shaman, having his own wounds dressed. Gnak would have to wait his turn.

  Turning upon his heel to leave, preferring to wait outside rather than look upon his enemy, he was prevented a clean retreat when the giant killer spoke,

  “Gnak kill big bear. Korx kill giant,” Korx bragged.

  “Gnak kill biggest bear. Korx kill smallest giant,” Gnak replied with a snort.

  “Small giant better kill. Big bear no better. I win.”

  “Giant much bone, bear much meat. More clan eat bear. I win,” Gnak replied, knowing the statement was not entirely true. Sure, a bear had more meat, but the giant was obviously the tougher target. Even so, he watched as Korx struggled to piece together a response.

  “Bear easy, giant hard,” he finally managed.

  Though the words barely created any meaning, Gnak understood them and knew them to be true. Even so, his was a proud kill. There were still two more stages to Catunga, a task and a fight to the death. It would be the task that set them apart. He would focus on the celebration and feast ahead, until his task was given. He still had time to eliminate some competition, though it was not allowed in the camp and as such he could not use this opportunity to kill Korx, though the thought brought a wicked grin to his lips.

  “I come back after,” Gnak grunted, and strode back out of the tent feeling Korx’s eyes upon his back.

  Gnak had returned to the shaman later that first night and had his arm wound cared for along with a few more minor injuries, but that had been a full day ago. Now the preparations had been completed and, as the sun shrank slowly over the horizon, Gnak could not help the anxiety building within him. He wanted to know his task. He needed to know it. The Catunga ceremony tasks were what really made a difference. Such tasks required intelligence, cunning, strength, and endurance. All of which Gnak had, but he still could not wait to know the details. Pacing inside his tent, not wanting the others to see his impatience and mistake it for weakness, he waited for darkness to come.

  When it did come, it was announced by the pounding of great war drums, a sign that the ceremony was starting. Kneeling before the bone shrine within his tent he prayed to Gogoc, the god of battle, Burliq, the god of hate and rage, and Keeka, the goddess of health and endurance. The gods had never seen fit to answer his call, but even so, Gnak knew that not praying to them was taking a chance he would rather not. A rare few of his kind were blessed by the gods, receiving gifts of strength, speed, and power. He wanted such gifts for himself.

  Rising once again, he dipped his fingers in a bowl of blood collected from the ancient bear’s head and delivered to him the day before, and splashed it upon the shrine respectfully. Then turning, he ducked through the flaps of his home, adorned with his tooth necklace that now held the six tusks of his traitorous clan-mates. Striding across the camp towards the constant booming of the drums, he watched ahead as his clan gathered for the ceremony.

  Though the ceremony would last the whole of the night, he wore every bit of armor he owned. It was mostly oiled
leather, but the joints contained bits of chain armor made by the humans who had wandered into their lands a few years previous, and he even owned steel bracers, though steel here was rare and usually used only for weapons. He imagined himself an impressive sight, and making his way to the center of the camp he was assured of his conclusion. Most of his peers, similarly prepared, wore only leather and bone. Gnak grunted at his success. The elders would surely take note that he was worthy to win the proud title of captain.

  Approaching the huge fire pit that marked the center of camp, he located his peers who joined him in Catunga. Finding himself a seat among the ring of his peers, he kicked at them, making them create a wider space for him. Of course there had already been suitably sized spots for him, just not where he wanted. Within moments the remaining stragglers arrived and Gnak noted that their number had already dropped by nearly a quarter. The elders filled in behind the ring of those to do Catunga, and six females of their tribe took up positions between those seated at the fire.

  He watched as the females began to sway to the thrumming of the drum, and the shaman dumped some strange leaves in the fire as blue smoke began to roil out of it. The females then started discarding their clothing, retrieving large woven fans to spread the smoke into the gathered ring of those facing Catunga. The nude females danced, an entrancing, sexual collection of movements that seemed altogether a natural part of their fanning of the smoke. The women swayed in the firelight, their dark flesh a medley of dancing yellow and red light as their dark shadows crept across the surface of those who sat surrounding them. Gnak could feel the effects of the smoke almost instantly. Breathing it, he could feel his body calm, the tension dissipating with every breath. He felt his mind opening, the many what ifs and questions fleeing him to make room for the words that were surely to come soon.

  The motions of the swaying and dancing women seemed to become blurred, as if behind a haze of smoke, as the shaman added yet more leaves to the fire. The smoke changed color and still the nude women danced, their bodies enticing the crowd around them. Gnak tried to focus, but the haze would not let him. He turned his head to see if any of his peers were unaffected, but the motion nearly made him topple over, his balance all but lost. It were as if the world around him had become a dream, but still he tried to remain alert, to concentrate as the voice of their clan chief began to boom over the thunderous drums.

  “We proud. Tribe of Gathos. We proud cause we strong,” the chief began.

  Gnak tried to focus on his words and follow their sound to the source with his eyes, but now he swayed with the drums and dancers, and could not seem to stop. Closing his eyes he found some relief, but now the chief’s words punctuated by drums were all that seemed to exist. So he clung to them as the leader of his clan continued.

  “We strong cause Catunga. Begin Catunga, make clan proud. Watch you go. Make proud you return. Make clan stronger still. No finish Catunga, no return camp. Weak make clan weak. Gathos have no weak. Gathos strong. Hear my words. You task three. First go find enemies. War coming. Great chief say it. Capture enemy and return,” the chief began to explain.

  Gnak understood the chief’s meaning even with his head swirling. He did not hear the words so much as see them within his head. He saw the Gathos tribe, proud and strong, and watched as they struck down their old and infirm. He envisioned himself leaving the camp with few provisions, his sword and spear at the ready. Then as the vision swirled again he saw the visage of a great black castle before him. He had never seen the thing, only been told of it by elders when he was young. It lay to the north in the lands of the humans. It was his destiny. It was his Catunga. Proud, he listened as still the chief spoke.

  Again his dream-like vision changed and he saw the great chief standing before the chiefs of all the Orc tribes. The great chief was blessed by the gods and stood double the size of his kin, commanding them into battle. Shaking his head, Gnak struggled to listen on.

  “Three part is sacrifice enemy to god you choose. Ask god give power. Win power. Make Gathos more strong. More proud.”

  The chief’s voice was lost, the drums beating louder and louder, faster and faster as Gnak’s heart began to race with the beat. The new smoke smelled spicy, burning his nostrils, but the fog began to clear. Before he could open his eyes, he again pictured the massive black castle. He had his task. Capture an enemy and bring it back for sacrifice to the gods. Most would likely visit the goblins and trolls, their nearest neighbors who they fought most often. But Gnak knew that was not where he was supposed to go. No, he would venture north, across the mountains into the land of the humans where he had never ventured before.

  With sweat beading upon his forehead he opened his eyes, his heart racing as if he fought the ancient bear once again. The fog abated and with it the dizziness, and he rose as the dancing women ceased their rhythmic movements.

  Looking up to the stars, Gnak calculated that more than half of the night had passed in what felt to him was only minutes. Shaking his head once more, he felt somewhat lethargic as his heart began to slow. His tribe began gathering around the spits of roasting meat, hacking and pulling hunks off the carcasses before biting into the fistfuls of flesh. He hoped a belly full of good meat would chase away the odd feeling inside him, and as such sought out the great bear he had killed. Many surrounded the spit, pulling and slicing, but at his approach they cleared a path for him. It was his kill. He could take what he wanted.

  Pulling his sword, still stained from Orc and bear alike, he carved a strip of meat from the beast’s back, close to the spine. Taking a huge bite he gnashed his teeth loudly, grunting his approval as he waved to allow the others to begin anew. Most would stuff themselves in preparation for the journey to the lands of their enemies, but Gnak had a different approach entirely. Heading back to his tent, he gathered up what few supplies he could muster. Tossing the bone spook and knife into a leather hide, he gathered up bits of dried meat he kept for days where the hunt was scarce. It was meager, but would sustain him for a few days. Beyond that he would have to rely on game for food.

  Bundling the small hide with a leather cord, he tied it to his belt before again kneeling before the shrine of the Orc gods. A few mumbled thoughts and a splash of blood later, and Gnak strode from his tent into the path that would lead him out of camp. Without veering he struck out on a comfortable jog, straight east out of town towards the nearest goblin neighbors. If any watched him go, let them think he was taking an easy route. Gnak grinned into the night. Cunning and intelligence would win him the title of captain.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The sun was lighting the sky above Gnak when he made the decision to take up his actual course. Turning to his left, he was careful not to leave a trail alerting any that followed that he was actually traveling north. Though if any found his trail here, more than forty miles out of camp, they would assume he was seeking the mountain giants that were known to inhabit the pass through the mountains nearby. The very pass he hoped to make by midday. Whereas Orcs were primarily nocturnal, giants were more active during the hours of sunlight. How they dealt with the burning sensation in their eyes all the time, Gnak was unsure, but if they were too dumb to sleep during the day it was their own fault.

  Either way, he hoped to locate the pass and slip by the slower-of-thought giants unaware. Once beyond the pass, he believed he could travel fairly unimpeded into the lands of the humans. He did not know precisely where the giant black castle was, but if it was as large as stories would have him believe, it would not be difficult for him to locate.

  Deciding his trail had been obscure for long enough, he gave his steps no further thought and began running northward with the searing sun baking his right side. The day was expectedly uneventful, with nothing of note other than a few goblin tracks and the growing mountains before him. The more miles he crossed, growing ever nearer to the base of the Rancor range here, the more obvious the pass through them became. At first it was a subtle change in the ground, the soil becom
ing packed and hard beneath his feet. Then an obvious path began to emerge where all plant life had been destroyed, leaving only a dusty trail that wound up through the hills ahead into a great chasm between the mountains. Once he reached the hills, the pass was even more obvious, and he began to realize that his plan would not be as simple as he had hoped.

  Peering off into the distance from atop a rise, he could see the bodies of smashed and splattered goblins all along the mouth of the pass. The sounds of screams echoed out from its stone confines, and the clangs of metal carried their high pitched tune across the day’s stagnant air. Gnak reevaluated his plan.

  Not only were there giants within the pass, but goblins too. All the more eyes to see him. He could try and find another way through the mountains but time was limited. Catunga only lasted one moon cycle. He had twenty eight nights. No more.

  After a few moments’ thought he supposed that if the giants were busy with the goblins, then perhaps it could work to his advantage. If nothing else, goblins regularly entered the lands of the humans and often carried weapons and armor stolen from other races. Perhaps he could scavenge something useful from their corpses.