Roderic and Gorlana

Roderick and Gorlana

Part 4.

***

"Gorlana."

After Roderick spoke her name he heard two steps and then suddenly felt the back of a hard orcish hand strike him across the face.

"You will name her High-Chieftain or General Springsnake! NOT her birth name! How do you even know-"

"Stop! Don't hurt him!" Gorlana's voice called out with a furious panic.

"He dishonoured you!" the orc growled defensively.

Another one muttered nearby, "I thought we were TRYING to get him to speak."

"Quiet!"

Roderick spit out a wad of blood from his throbbing mouth. The pain was intense but he was more upset that the blow hadn't dislodged his blindfold. He wanted to look upon her so badly. Her smell and voice were so near, yet she felt so far. He pulled thoughtlessly on his wrist ties. He almost wanted to speak her name again only in the hope that the next blow would knock his blindfold free.

"You didn't let them torture him did you?" Gorlana asked with a threatening tone.

"No," the other Orc replied. "We continue to teach these Rechlinger dogs that posturing their strength on one tied up and helpless is akin to showing cruelty to a child, yet they persist in their whining."

One of the Rechlingers spat and growled but was silenced.

The Orthalian orc continued, "But I will not hesitate to teach this ignorant human to respect his captors. Even if he is the General Lightbrew as you say."

"He is. I have no doubt," Gorlana said, somewhat more calmly, then suddenly, "Why is his leg broken?!"

"That's how we found him. Alone in the deep foothills trapped under a dead bear. It was a bizarre scene, but there was no one else for miles. Our scouts had rejoined again to head north after deciding Darganya was unlikely to press towards us, and they came upon him by accident. Forgive me my General but why are you so concerned for his well-being? I thought you might have us execute him for his acts of war?"

Gorlana took a shaky breath and gritted her teeth, "He will be worth less for ransom if he is mistreated or injured. It's bad enough his leg is broken, but... I don't want you to hurt him anymore."

"As you command General, we simply treat him as any prisoner."

"He's not ANY prisoner! He's Roder-..." she took another calming breath, "He's Lightbrew! Their First-General."

"I thought you never actually met him on your campaign? How can you be sure?"

"I just am."

The Rechlinger snorted "She blusters without knowing,"

"Quiet! She is your General,"

"Why don't we just ask him?" one of them muttered.

"Do they tattoo their clans?"

"We checked for that!"

"She's right!" Roderick finally shouted.

The cacophony of voices stopped.

"It's me," Roderick said more calmly, "I am Roderick of Highquarry. First-General to the Andralian army. Or, Lightbrew, as my orcish clans know me."

"You dare speak of YOUR CLANS! A human cannot-"

"Don't hit him!" Gorlana snarled.

Roderick heard a foot drag into the dirt in front of him, and was sure a hand had been stopped mid-air.

"If you hit him..." Gorlana stopped herself then continued less threateningly, "... he may decide to stop talking. He is finally sharing information. Accept that some of his words may dishonour you. The traitor orcs have recognized him as high-chieftain of Southern-Orthalia for some time."

Roderick heard someone spit, then gulped with his dry throat before speaking, "Thank you Gorl-... Springsnake. I'm glad to meet you up close finally. I'm impressed you recognize me even though we've only seen each other from afar."

"Why does he stink of deceit?"

"Quiet!"

"Because he's not actually glad to meet her, obviously,"

"I said quiet!"

"You're welcome... Lightbrew." Gorlana said, trying to mimic his formal tone. "I need you to understand that... Orthalia is a more complicated place than usual right now. Alliances are being severed and retied, killing and dealing and... I simply wish you to know that the necessity of our situation and the good of Orthalia is why I... why we do what we do." she said, in a monotone flatness but her voice almost breaking near the end.

"I understand. I thank you for treating me as well as your honour allows," he said.

She replied with a strained harshness, "You receive our mercy of captivity, rather than death, for now, until we decide what is to be done with you, but do not presume to demand or insult us. As Torvrul has correctly said, we will not suffer insolence." Then she steeled herself even more, "You will not be tortured, but nor will you be given anything you do not earn. If you wish to be treated as an Orthalian, you may remain bound here and familiarize yourself with our late-autumn weather. Know that OUR leaders do not gain honour by being pampered as your palace nobles do."

There was a low chorus of grunts and chuckles with a sense of relieved satisfaction that swirled in the breeze around Roderick as he nodded in understanding.

"We might speak again later," she said flatly. Then there was a silence and felt her scent fading, his body instinctively tugging on his bonds, wanting to follow after her.

"Can I see you?" he blurted out.

There was a few seconds more silence, then suddenly a hand struck his face again.

She shouted "No! I told you not to strike him!"

"He CANNOT make demands of us, let alone YOU! As you said. It is not cruelty, simply an enforcing of rules!" a frustrated Torvrul replied. "I will not hit him hard enough to scar his face. By the time we ransom him-"

"Just..." Gorlana interrupted hoarsely. "Let me..."

He felt her scent getting stronger, then he could feel her breath on him. That smell. That musk that he had missed so much, feeling like the most beautiful sensation he could ever imagine, triggering so much purpose inside him. Her hand touched his face, her strong but tender fingers with their short claws tracing over his cheek to his blindfold and he involuntarily turned his face into her hand almost affectionately.

Suddenly her hand was gone though, and his blindfold remained.

"No," she said, quietly, perhaps almost to herself, "I don't need to see his eyes, I'm sure it's him."

"Y-... yes my General. You had already said..."

He heard footsteps that became quieter and quicker as her scent faded, amidst low muttering around him.

"Your General is becoming strange," the Rechlinger rasped.

"She is your General as much as ours! Traulch answers to her."

"Baagh!" he spat.

The footsteps around him sounded like a milling crowd. Gorlana had clearly left.

He could pick up casual orcish conversations around him.

"She WAS acting strange though. Did she sleep last night?"

"I've seen her go three days without sleep and not be so unpredictable."

"This wind scrambles the senses but I think she was more upset than she even let on openly."

"He is a complication that I admit I would not know what to do with if I were her."

"There was sadness in her smell I thought."

"Mostly frustration. Bitterness to me."

"Someone was very turned-on."

"I think HE was"

"Humans are a different flavour and I don't think any of us are experienced enough to know for sure. I know some enjoy being tied..."

"I thought it was a female scent though."

"Might have been me, I thought I smelled it from him too and I must say there's something about him. That pinkish-brown skin, and his body is smaller, but those muscles look taught and durable. I'm kind of glad they never found him a shirt. Wish he'd lost his boots too though..."

"Agkh, you're disgusting," another female orc said derisively.

"If Springsnake won't even let us strike him once I doubt she would let you have your way with him."

"He wouldn't suffer. I'd be careful not to leave any scars..."

The other female grunted again, "I wouldn't sic my most spindly rutt-starved cousin on him. He is a weak mix, not any true orc. How could they call him a chief?"

"Careful with talk like that around here."

"Oh that's not the same! Besides, she's long gone," she said, and the two female voices faded.

A male orcish voice came from another direction, "Can you believe these women?"

"I think she just likes to boast. She would suggest she has the virility to even twitch a human's nose to her favour."

"Let her. She'd never make him hard. Her breasts don't sag enough."

"What? What does that have to do with it?"

"Humans. You've heard they are aroused by a woman's breasts."

"Well yes, and anyone can see she has them. They look completely normal."

"Exactly. Apparently, unless a human woman's breasts hang down past her elbows, she is NEVER mated with. It's true. My uncle told me."

"Huh. THAT must be how they don't overpopulate, when any mating can make a child"

"No THAT's a myth. They Rutt with every full moon, with no heed for the man."

"Bahg! Next you'll tell me they sprout a wolf's muzzle and howl at it too."

The voices faded into the din and Roderick hung his head in despondent apathy. It wasn't hopelessness. His body still pulsed with too much new-found life for that. He simply didn't care, now that she was gone. It was hard to care about anything else around him; other people, information he could glean by listening. His mind told him he had to try to care. Stay sharp. Find a strategy or a plan. Consider what Valessa and his army might do. Even that was difficult to dwell on, before letting his mind wander back to the thoughtless appreciation of her scent in his mind.

He finally realized the bonds on his hands were tied so that he could slide down the pole. He slowly let his body sink, and then sat on the dirt with his head bowed, waiting only for Gorlana to return.

...

Why? Why now? Of all the times in my life I could have found him why does it have to be now? Like this?

Gorlana's distressed thoughts wracked her brain as she grasped the side of the wooden table in her private tent, leaning forward and hanging her head low. Her eyes were closed tightly, tears forming quickly now that she was alone.

He should be nothing to you. It's been years. You've become a different woman now. Your life was almost ruined by him. The pain he caused you... Yet, the pleasure..

.

Oh GODS his scent. It was like we were back in that meadow...

Yet he HAD changed. That lean nervous boy had grown into a man. She took a deep breath as she envisioned his shirtless body out there, tied up and struggling.

He's dangerous. For more reasons than one.

She told herself.

Yet so helpless now... If I find out that it was on of them that broke his leg...

She gritted her teeth as anger flashed amidst the storm of emotions boiling inside her. Tears fell on to the table as her claws dug into the wood.

She wished she could have seen his eyes. Those beautiful honest eyes that would never leave their place in her mind. No. She knew why she had stopped herself and walked away. She had been afraid. Afraid that they might be completely different, yet afraid that they would be everything she had dreamed of. Her self-control was already at its limit, and had she looked upon him fully she feared what she might have done. Letting herself get that close had been reckless to begin with. She was one of the best at stifling her scent, even besides the human-dilution in her blood, yet she was still lucky for the wind to have been there. How much had her warriors sensed? Did she dare let herself get near him again? Could she even avoid him if she tried?

What will I do!?

More tears fell to the table as she winced and tried to break it in two with her straining hands. She almost cried out in rage and frustration, but was glad she didn't when the tent flap opened.

"High-Chieftain, Carthala and the others wish for counsel. If you so desire."

She took a ragged breath and was able to calm herself but knew she dare not turn around. It was still strange hearing them call her high-chieftain now, since she had made her claim for the Goathorn chair. Though it was not just the name, but the change in their treatment of her. As though she was already queen. Before, they would have fully expected her to answer the summons as an obligation, not ask it 'if she so desired'. She supposed she needed to get used to it, if she really did want to rule.

She cleared her throat and surprised herself at how calm she sounded, "Yes, thank you, I will be there in... half of an hour. I still need some time."

"Of course High-Chieftain. I will inform them."

...

Gorlana entered the command tent, looking composed enough, she hoped, and gave a respectful nod. Carthala, her third-hand, stood at the the head of the command table, eyeing her with thinly-veiled concern. The rest were her lieutenants - a mix of men and women promoted as such among the chiefs of the clans who had joined with her. The six of them all gave deep bows and a few knelt, again as if she was already queen.

"Our honour to you, High-Chieftain," they said, nearly in unison.

"And to you," she nodded then strolled up to the table with a sigh, trying to strike a less formal tone, "Before we discuss the obvious is there any OTHER news to learn and consider?"

"Only that all three of your rivals press for Orthanhall and we should make haste as well," One of the chieftains said.

"It is not a race. The first to arrive back is not crowned as queen, and the strength of the forces at your back when you arrive matters more than how quickly you have gathered them," Gorlana reminded him.

"Even so, I worry what these humans will do. Unless we actually do wish to fight them, and use Lightbrew as bait to draw their forces towards us to be destroyed..."

"A risk, but it may gain us more honour," another suggested.

Carthala shrugged, "Pfft, with Zurgana yes, but her warmongering forces would also claim dishonour at each day we let this Lightbrew live. Faringoll would decry it, and for Iringoll it's hard to say. Besides, it's risky antagonizing Andralia further at such an uncertain time."

"There shouldn't be any way that the humans would know we have him."

Carthala scoffed, "Shouldn't..."

"We know they are to the south, and vulnerable despite Darganya's help. If we let them slip away who knows what they'll get up to. I say we attack while we know where they are, and they are missing their general."

"No." Gorlana said sternly, halting their conversation. "We leave them be for now. If no one knows we have Roderick here, then I will keep him safe to mysel-... that is, we keep-...," she cleared her throat, "the secret safe. Until we know what our approach will be. In which case, you are correct we should move faster to Orthanhall, and away from them. This means we should break camp soon. We won't wait for Traulch to return, he can catch up later."

"He may feel spurned by that."

"Let him. He and his Rechlingers will find reason for offence either way. I will deal with him as ever," Gorlana said dismissively.

"So, to ransom this Lightbrew to Andralia is our approach then?"

"Eventually. I will hold on to him as long as I can," she said, with unintended urgency, then quickly continued. "What I mean is if we can use our possession of him as leverage in the moot at Orthanhall, it will help my chances at winning the Goathorn chair."

"Of course," they said, nodding with a scent of more respect and understanding now.

"Then when you are queen his ransom will carry all the more weight."

"Would they ransom all of Southern Orthalia back for one as high in honour as him?"

Gorlana shrugged in thought, "Perhaps, perhaps not, perhaps even more."

She still sensed suspicion from Carthala, who said, "Hopefully you can let yourself lighten your heart now, at the boon this prisoner represents to our efforts."

"As I have said. Things were complicated enough for me," Gorlana answered. "He is one more complication that I had not anticipated. Plans may have to be reshaped."

Carthala shrugged, "Not as I see it. We continue to unify our forces until we fortify our position among the rest around Orthanhall, and then when the moot begins we have one more piece to our advantage. And what a piece I must say," she said with a smile, raising an eyebrow, almost suggestively.

Gorlana eyed her with suspicion. "You are technically right. But I have no time to sit and celebrate. We have work to do. We break camp the day after tomorrow."

They all nodded in agreement, but Torvrul spoke up, "As to his treatment, Springsnake, I meant no dishonour to you, but are we really to treat him as some type of welcomed guest? I worry what the other clans will think of this when we are all reunited again. Are we to give him a tent and a fire? Even unbind him?"

"No!" Gorlana growled, sensing the incredulity in his voice. "I... apologize for my behaviour before. I was unprepared, when you had not informed me of who he was."

"We did not know-"

"Yes. I know," she replied in irritation. "Still. I simply must take into account that Andralia will want him unharmed if we are to ransom without total war. However, I perhaps forgot that just because he is Andralian does not mean he is a soft nobleman from the city. Though he is mostly human, he still has been hardened by Orthalia almost as much as any of us. He will survive our honour-codes of captivity, and you may abide by them, Torvrul."

"Of course. Thank you High-chieftain." he nodded with a sense of renewed respect. "This is a relief, as his overseer. He will be given nothing then. No direct harm, I promise you, but no assistance either, other than what food and water need be given to keep him alive and walking. As for shelter, the nights are warmer now that we're down out of the foothills. We have not been wasting space with him in our tents. I don't think he will die of exposure-..."

"That's fine," Gorlana said, trying desperately to stifle her dismay, knowing how suspicious they were of her behaviour already. This would hopefully appease them. "Keep him tied to the pole through the night. He does not deserve better."

She let herself add, "Though, we can perhaps persuade him with more food and shelter in exchange for talking," she suggested, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"As was my strategy yes, General," Torvrul nodded, eyeing her after what probably had not needed to be said.

"Good," she said, trying to hold herself in dignity still. "Is that all?" she asked, wanting desperately to be alone again.

They nodded and gave another kneel of respect. They all started to file out of the tent, but Carthala stepped up beside her.

"May I have a word with you alone High-Chieftain?"

Gorlana looked at her long-time friend and her small secretive smirk which belied her use of the formal title, and found herself returning it, knowing she simply wanted a casual conversation. She agreed with a nod, though still nervous of what she might bring up.

When they were finally alone, back in her private tent, Carthala let out a long sigh.

"So, what is it Gorlana?"

Gorlana paused next to her supply packs and grabbed her water-skin, rather than the one containing hard-alcohol like she had wanted to. Carthala's tone suggested this conversation might not be entirely casual and she should keep as much keen control over her emotions, and therefore her scent, as she could.

"What do you mean?" Gorlana replied stubbornly.

Carthala sat down next to her, crossing her thick green legs and squinted at her. "When we started this new campaign you begged me to call you 'Gorlana' instead of Springsnake or High-Chieftain in private because you wanted someone to keep you grounded and honest, and not let it go to your head when they treat you as a queen. It was a refreshing change and I respect you for it, and so in this regard I'm just doing my duty. So I ask you. As a friend. What. Is. Wrong?"