Brutal Orc Warrior

Chapter 1

Uli

“They’re traitors!” Kian’s voice bounces off the waters around us, loud and ringing.

The vein in my forehead begins to throb.

My brother is not a trusting orc, and does not believe that anything good can come from our treaty with the Ravenhawk clan. And though our journey to Swallow Island might be proof of his claims, I cannot help but rail against his unforgiving mindset.

“You cannot live like this, Kian!” My voice is as loud as his. “You have to see the goodness in others. You cannot always assume the worst.”

     “You are a fool,” he says, and his voice is hard and devoid of emotion. “You always have been.”

     Despite the lack of emotion in Kian’s voice, I know that he is furious with me.

     I hate it when my brother, when any of my clansmen, are upset with me.

     But in this case, I know that Kian is wrong.

     The wind whips around us then, sending a spray of water dancing through the air.

     “If you want things to change,” I say, doing my best to make my voice gentle. I place a hand on his shoulder. “Then we will have to be different from the other orc clans who only drink and brawl. We can’t go to war every time our feelings get hurt.”

     Kian lets out an angry huff and turns to look at Swallow Island, which has just come into view.

     I continue on steadily with my little speech, because there is always hope in my heart that my brother will soften and change.

But my hope has started to wane in the last few years.

     Kian has always been so hard, so brittle, that I am surprised that he hasn’t snapped in half yet.

     “War won’t do us any good. War is what destroyed our world, remember? The world you loved so much. I don’t want to start another war and make this new world, this world that has been gifted to us, unbearable.”

     When Kian turns to look at me, his eyes are so cold and flat that my skin prickles with slight fear.      

I know that he won’t do anything. I am his chieftain.

     He knows it, and I know it.

     But what I also know is that he is tired of my policies. He thinks I am too soft.

     Maybe I am.

     But my softness hasn’t led us astray yet.

     “We are orcs!” My brother’s voice is hot, belying his cold eyes. “We should divide and conquer!”

     “We also have to think about the future. We need to think about what we’re leaving behind for young orcs. Do you want us to destroy this Earth? The way we destroyed our last home?”

“I don’t think Uluruk will see things your way,” Kian says as our boat gently bumps against the sand.

     I have to agree with Kian when I see about two dozen guards surrounding the other chieftain – the chieftain we have come to see today.

     I had hoped for peaceful negotiations – I still do – which is why I have only brought three guards and my brother along with me for negotiations.

     Uluruk does not greet us, but simply turns and stalks off. He carries a giant staff in his hand, and wears a cape of animal skin.

     He also wears a helmet, which signifies his status as chieftain of the Ravenhawk clan.

     He is simply compensating, we all know, for the eye that he lost years ago.

     “So, Uli,” Uluruk says when Kian, my guards, and I enter his cabin. “Why have you come here? Why have you encroached on my territory?”

     He does not offer us a seat in his cabin, but purposefully leaves us standing in the small space while he sits in a chair that looks more like a throne than anything else.

     “I think you know why I am here,” Kian is practically shivering with rage next to me, and I place a hand on his shoulder again to keep him calm. My voice is a practiced calm.

     There is no room for a skirmish in this cabin.

     “I am here to renegotiate the treaty which you have violated.”

     “You want to renegotiate?” Uluruk pretends to take time to consider this.

     “Yes.” I ensure that my voice remains neutral. “This is for the best. Some of your men have been seen in our territory without our permission. I think you know that is a punishable offense.”

     “If it is such a serious matter,” Uluruk grunts the words, leaning forward, “Then surely, a fight is the only effective means to renegotiate.”

     “Do you think that is a good idea?” My voice is mild. “With winter coming?”

     My voice may be mild, but the threat in it is clear.

     If we fight now, the Ravenhawk clan is at risk of losing some of its members. And no one can afford to lose an orc before winter.

     Besides, my clan, the Risen Ash clan, is far more powerful than his clan will ever hope to be.

     “Fine,” he grunts. “What are your terms?”

     We speak for about twenty minutes, but eventually Uluruk agrees to not encroach on our territory again in exchange for food and supplies.

This is when my brother becomes so angry that I am afraid his head might explode.

         “Do you really think we would agree to that? You are trying to fleece us, by turning the peace treaty on its head! Do you think we’re afraid of your clan? Do you think that your clan has any means to defeat us in battle?”

     Uluruk stands up then, his face going dark with anger, and pushes his chair aside.

     He reaches across his table, as if to grab Kian by the lapels and drag him across it.

     “Stand down!” I bark the words at Kian, and this time when I am looking at him, I am looking at him as his chieftain and not his brother.

     “Uluruk,” I turn to the other chieftain and hold my hands up in apology. “Please. Let us not do this.”

     The silence in the room makes my skin prickle again – we are about to come to blows and there is nothing I can do about it.

     But then Kian takes a step away from Uluruk, and the other chieftain grunts, and sits down again.

     “I can agree to those terms,” I tell Uluruk. “But we will only exchange food for something of equal value. And I will decide what food supplies you get.”

     Uluruk is silent for a few moments, though it feels as though the silence stretches on into eternity.

     Eventually he nods.

     “Jorg,” he shouts and one of his guards walks into the room. “Bring a bottle and some glasses for our guests.”

     He finally gestures at us to sit down, and I do, though Kian remains standing.

     Jorg, his guard, walks in carrying a clear bottle filled with a dark, thick liquid and several glasses.

     “What is this?” Kian asks, and the suspicion is obvious in his voice.

     “We have been lucky enough to find some new berries on the far side of the island.” Uluruk says in his heavy voice. “We have managed to turn it into wine. If you like it, then this is what we will offer in exchange for food.”

     Uluruk knows the truth about all orcs.

     We love a good, fine wine.

     And finding a good variety of wine is rare, especially since we got to Earth.

     Jorg pours us each a glass and Uluruk raises his glass.

     “A toast. To peaceful negotiations.” Uluruk gives me a lopsided grin.

    He raises his glass to his lips. Kian takes a sip of his, while I take a large gulp of mine.

     The wine is fruity and spicy and flavorful.

     “Kian,” I turn to my brother who is still standing next to me. “What do you think of the wine? I find it quite delicious.”

     The glass falls first, and shatters upon impact with the ground.

     My brother’s body moves then, and sways from side to side, before he collapses in a heap on the ground.

     I am about to jump up, to go to him, to find out what is wrong, when my own glass slips from my hand.

     It is as though I have lost the ability to control my movements.

     When I look around at my guards, who all have glasses of wine in their hands, they are close to collapsing or look very ill.

     “What…” my tongue has become thick and hairy in my mouth.

     My head pounds and I am sweating. My heart is thudding unsteadily, erratically, in my throat and is pounding at my wrists.

     “What did you put in the wine?” I manage to ask Uluruk. “What the fuck did you put in the wine?”

I am about to collapse myself. I can feel it.

     When I look down at Kian, I can see that he is awake, but isn’t moving. His eyelids flutter weakly, and his chest is rising and falling rapidly. As though his heartbeat is as unstable as my own.

     When I fall, I fall heavily. My head hits the ground, but does not knock me out.

     I speak again, my voice far more feeble than the screaming panic in my head.

     “What the fuck did you put in the wine?”