Orin The Great Ch. 07

Orin wondered if the man was serious about this or not. He scanned the faces and forms of the handful of people that had come out to watch their arrival. Among them, he saw a few homely women and a few skinny women. "None are to my liking."

"Have you lost your balls already?" Vetel kidded.

"No!" Orin shot back. "I am not picky about women, mind you, or at least I don't think I am. If I am to choose a woman, I tend to look for one that has the qualities of my first two lovers. If a woman chooses me, then let her come."

"You're a romantic, then?" The man figured. "Come with me, and I'll show you how to deal with these country women."

The two approached the nearest folks.

"Is there an older woman we can talk to? A village elder?" Vetel called out.

As one of the villagers set out to find one, the hairy warrior gave his attention to Orin. "I'll tell you how you can increase your number of lovers, since you've said you have only had a few. If a woman looks at you once," He shrugged. "Think nothing of it. If she looks at you twice, or if her look lingers on you, go ahead and take her. After a few tries, you'll learn to recognize that look. It doesn't matter if the woman is from a high status or low, if she's married or not. The only ones you should avoid are the virgins, as they don't know enough about giving off the right look yet. Yes, those virgins will give you the most trouble, but it is their fault for giving off the wrong signals."

"But how will I know if they are virgins or not?"

"Virgins are timid. They will show that in their eyes. A virgin will have a nervous fantasy sprout up in her head, while an experienced woman will imagine you've impaled her with your cock already. You will see the way their faces fill up with heat. That is how you tell the difference."

Orin decided to add that to his growing trove of knowledge about women. He might have peppered Vetel with questions, had it not been for the arrival of an elderly woman that was seen hobbling her way over. The old woman covered her head with a colorful scarf and used a cane to walk.

"Are you an elder here?" Vetel called out to her.

"There were a few more of us, until the earth shook and buried the rest." The woman answered. "I am the only one still left above ground."

"This is a poor village, isn't it?" Vetel commented.

"As poor as dirt, and poorer still if it wasn't for the Church. What have you called me out here for?"

"In some villages, the local women are agreeable to having visitors in their midst. They might have a good dance with a visitor, if he were to, ah, present the woman with a small token. Half a shilling might be a good amount, I would think."

"The Church frowns upon libertines." The elder said. "You should know that."

"I do." Vetel nodded. "At the same time, I know that small villages might have brothels. These would certainly be kept secret from the Church, and none would be the wiser about it."

"I see what you are getting at." The woman replied. "Half a shilling is a fair amount. I will ask the women here if they would like to dance tonight."

Finally, Vetel showed some generosity. He pulled a couple of pennies from his purse and went to hand them to the woman. After this, the hairy man scanned the edge of the lake. He pointed away. "That looks like a decent, flat spot for rest. We will be found there tonight. Come along, Orin."

The young man followed Vetel. "Will they come?"

"They always do." The man grinned, before calling out to his fellows. "We'll be resting over here! Shake your legs and let's get a good fire going!"

It was a game, Orin decided as the day grew long, but he wasn't sure any of the locals were willing to play it. The men of Grauxall tended to their horses, while he was put in charge of finding kindling for their fire. Once the flames were good and going, the bunch of them sat around and told old war stories. When it was the young man's turn to add to the storytelling, he recounted his adventure at Dunnidale, but he obviously left out the part where two cursed ghosts had been amorous with him. The veteran fighters around him did not know whether to believe his tale or not.

"It is dark now." Orin commented, after nightfall when the men were snacking on nuts and dried beef jerky. "I don't think any women will show their faces."

"Because we're too ugly?" One of the men joked.

"Well, you are ugly." Orin remarked, setting the men to laughing.

Earlier, when he'd been retrieving firewood, the men had started ribbing him over how he'd been traveling in the carriage like a servant, and not riding a horse like, as they put it, a real man would have done. When it looked as if they were trying to provoke his temper with their ridicule, Orin began dishing out retorts of his own. He knew plenty of them, actually, thanks to having been trained in fighting by older men, who had been around so long they were living archives of insults and witty comebacks.

"And how ugly am I?" The same man asked.

"Well, if I had the choice between staring at your face and the arse end of a cow, I would be hard-pressed to make a fast decision."

The men laughed at his joke, enough that Orin really felt they had accepted him. That was always the difficult part of it, he knew, for men who traveled together to let a new member into their private group.

Along with their water bladders, the Grauxall contingent also carried secondary bladders that held what they called a very potent wine. They drank and laughed, and hit each other on the back and arms, and sometimes would even slap at the back of each other's heads. As the night wore on, Orin clearly noted how drunk the men were becoming.

"Are you sure they'll be coming?" He asked again.

"They'll come." Vetel nodded.

"But surely all the women in this tiny village have husbands."

"I'm sure they do." The hairy man agreed. "You think these women married for love, do you? Let me tell you about women from small, out of the way settlements. All they have to look forward to is a bleak, hard life. If a wealthy man came by, three out of four will leave their husbands and run off with him. A daresay half of them would leave their children behind. The homely, skinny women from this place, they take one look at men like us, and they think to themselves, there go some wealthy men. When they take a look at you, young Orin, and they see how handsome and robust you are, they might imagine you are an angel come down from the sky."

"Oh, I don't think so!" Orin denied. "Me, an angel?"

"You'll see. They will come."

Sure enough, a short while later, movement could be seen across the lake. Two dark figures were seen heading toward the water for a quick dip. The forms quietly swam over to the Grauxall campsite. When they were near enough to the edge of the water, the small wet faces of two women were revealed.

"Come on out of there." One of the men called out, holding up his goat bladder. "That water is too cool to be swimming in. I have some wine here that will warm the both of you right up."

"We heard some coins were dropped on the ground near here." One woman replied. "Have you seen any coin lying around waiting to be claimed?"

As Orin watched, several Grauxall men went into their purses. They began throwing pennies near the fire, where the coins would be easily seen.

Vetel was near drunk by then, as he leaned over and breathed alcoholic fumes at Orin. In a low voice, he said, "At some places, the coin isn't even necessary. The women are so starved for a new frolic that they will come by all on their own. These bits we are throwing are merely an excuse for them to play the whores."

"Really?" Orin asked.

The women stepped out of the water, not timid at all as they let the men examine their wet bodies. They were thin, with bony faces and flesh stretched tight on their ribs. They had large tufts of brown hair between their legs that Orin found strange to look at.

Both women went to pick up the pennies that had been thrown out for them, making a loud and happy spectacle as they showed off the coins.

"I will be able to purchase a portion of lye now!" One woman exclaimed.

"The better to scrub your arse with!" A Grauxall man joked.

"We might have enough here to buy a chicken or two!" The second woman held out her trifle of pennies.

"Do a turn for us, will you?"

Orin wondered if this is how women acted in taverns, or at brothels. He'd never been in such places, as he'd been raised in a tiny little place that didn't have much in it at all, and his father hardly ever took him out traveling. That was another reason why he'd run off as soon as he had. He watched as both women wiggled their skinny bodies for the men, wondering if this is how they flirted with their husbands. Despite that Orin found them both too thin for his tastes, he discovered that his body was becoming aroused, simply watching them prance about naked.

One of the Grauxall men left his seat on the ground. He clasped a woman by the waist and brought her down with him. They both laughed at what he'd done. The other woman looked undecided as to where she wanted to sit, because she had several options to choose from.

When this second woman looked at Orin, her eyes lingered. This excited the young man even more, because he knew she was married, and she'd given him that sensual look that meant she liked him. Sundri and Bartram had warned Orin to keep clear of married women, but now that he had one nude before him, he didn't think he could.

"Come here." Vetel motioned at her.

The hairy man stood up as she approached. In a short moment, Vetel had kicked his boots off and was pulling on his breeches. When he was nude from the waist down, he went to sit his pants. The woman sat on his legs, facing him. For a brief moment, Orin observed Vetel reaching between his legs. The woman sitting on him gasped, letting the young man know she'd been pierced.

Orin watched as the woman bounced on Vetel. She was looking into the man's face or up at the dark sky as she moaned. To his young and inexperienced eyes, she did not look as if she were being forced into the act, or as if she regretted doing it. Orin shifted his attention to the second woman, when he saw a man from Grauxall lean her back on the ground and climb on top of her. This wasn't so different than how Bartram and he would take Sundri, Orin compared.

The woman mounted on Vetel leaned her body back, giving Orin a view of the small buds on her chest. Her breasts were not that big, but regardless her nipples looked like hard little points. Vetel pinched at her nipple and laughed, prompting the woman to look him in the eyes and smile. Vetel kissed her, shocking Orin because of what that man was doing to a married woman. It had always been in his head that people who were married would never perform infidelity.

When Vetel sounded as if he were finishing his sinful deed, Orin removed his short boots and undid his trousers. The woman was panting at her efforts as she slipped away from the man's thighs, only to be pulled closer by Orin. He prodded her onto her hands and knees. Feeling near feverish, he planted his cock into that woman, while knowing that her husband was probably listening to them, and perhaps even watching, from a spot in a lean-to across the lake.

Somehow, they were all up at sunrise. The local women were no longer there, as they'd returned to their homes during the night. The Grauxall men split off into pairs to cover more ground, with Orin riding along with Vetel.

"What do you think of the goings-on from last night?" The rough man asked, once the new hunt was underway.

"It was exhilarating." Orin admitted. "Those women had so much hair on them!"

"I didn't think you would jump on them as fast as you did." Vetel admitted. "I saw you more as a timid sort, but no longer. And yes, those women are hairier than most, as they don't trim their body hair as often as other women. Did you see their armpits?"

They spent the early part of the morning looking for tracks along the lake's edge. The other pair of Grauxall men had better luck, as they sounded their horn to show they had found a lead.

"We have several sets of footprints." One man said, once Vetel had found their spot. "The ogres came to the lake, sure enough, probably hoping to catch a few fish or to fill up their water holders."

Vetel and Orin both dismounted to study the tracks.

Orin saw what looked like human feet, except they were much larger than his. He wished he'd paid more attention to the ogre prints from the last hunt.

"My guess is they are between six and seven feet tall." Vetel said. "You two go on ahead to where the tracks lead. I'll take Orin and my other man to find where they came from. You sound that horn as soon as you catch sight of them."

The two men soon departed.

"I count four sets of tracks." Vetel's companion mentioned.

"Aye, four it is." Vetel nodded, showing Orin how to read them.

Instead of mounting their horses again, the hunters walked ahead while Orin held the two sets of reins and followed. Vetel and the other man had their pikes out and ready. After searching for a quarter hour, the tracks were lost in a section of high grass. Vetel and his fellow pushed grass aside to see the hidden ground below, but the effort was fruitless. At the end of it, they rode back towards the lake. The horn sounded off in two quick bursts, just as they caught sight of the water.

"Two bursts!" Vetel announced. "They've spotted the ogres!"

The horses galloped as far as they could across the edge of the lake, then slowed their paces once they went into the tangle of shrubbery. Large trees, small trees and shrubbery did their utmost to stifle their progress, until finally they came across the remainder of their party.

"We've got three of them," A man called out. "Two of them are still on the run!"

"Take the heads first." Vetel commanded. "We'll follow the last of them together."

The men dragged the large, dead forms over to a fallen tree. There, they put the bodies over the tree and hacked the heads off.

As curious as ever, Orin went to have a closer look. The ogres he'd fought before had been huge and robust creatures with gnarled faces and green skin. These ogres lying before him were different. They had black hair and flesh colored similar to humans. The tall creatures also had the bodies of men, with longer arms, legs and torsos. This drew his attention so much that he went to study their heads. These creatures had large faces with narrow eyes and squared jaws, but in every respect they looked like large human people.

"Are you sure these are ogres?" Orin questioned.

"You heard how they were described." One of Vetel's men replied. "These ogres are described as being tall and simple. They wear only animal skins and hunt with spears. That is exactly what we have brought down."

"But where are their hideous faces?" Orin pressed. "Where is their green skin, and their great bulging muscles that we saw on the others? I tell you, these look like tribal people to me and no more!"

"The Church claims these are ogres, and so they must be." Vetel said. "Who is to argue with the Church, especially when they will pay a pound of gold for every head we bring in?"

Orin could not believe the man's reply. "You are killing human people, Vetel."

"The Church says they are savages." The man carelessly replied. "Let's resume this hunt before the last of them get further away from us."

"No, you go on ahead." Orin decided. "I'll have no part in this, and I don't care what the Church says about it!"

Vetel shouted after him, but the young man didn't listen. He heard the men calling out at one another, before they mounted their horses and left him. It took a good while, but Orin kept walking through the forest until he found the lake. At first, he was heading back to their campsite, before he changed his mind and sought out the tracks they had found earlier. Perhaps he could follow their trail better this time.

"This isn't Vetel and his men hunting down people for sport," Orin reasoned. "But the black doings of the Church. Why would the Church want these people killed? Why are they ready to pay so much wealth for the killing, when the beneficiaries are only a few dozen poor folk?"

He found the high grasses, and as before, he had trouble following the trail.

"My father taught me how to perform a search." Orin recalled. "See where the sun is first, and where it will go as the day progresses. Choose the best direction you can, and scratch successive marks into the trees to keep your path."

Orin started off. Every fifty paces, he would glance at the sun's position and use the edge of his sword to leave a mark on a tree, exactly at the level of his eyes so he would not miss it on the way back. The grass went on for a distance, dying out the further away from the lake he went. Finally, he came across a path with the impressions of large feet.

As he followed the path, he recalled the stories of tribal folk from the village he'd once lived in. Those tribal people weren't giants but of a normal size. They only came near to his village during the harsher winters, to steal goats or pigs for eating. The people of his village had solved this problem by leaving food out for the tribal folk. When the wild people started becoming more brazen and took a village woman, his father and several other strong men had gone after them. They'd killed several, he'd heard, and hung their bodies from the trees as a threat to the rest. That was the last they'd heard of those tribal folk, for they never bothered his village again.

Here at Ashmere Lake, they called them ogres. Orin understood that people would not always think in the same way he did, but he was appalled that a seemingly good and civilized man such as Vetel would hunt such humans, and also his companions. Could these tall tribal folk be as vicious as was claimed?

"This is no coincidence." Thought Orin. "These tribal sorts were here before, living near the lake somewhere. This new village of Ashmere Lake is established, and suddenly the tribal people must be killed. But for what reason? Are they really so savage and primitive as the Church would have us believe? Or is it because of the fish? If the Church stocks the lake with fish, then the villagers and the tribal folk will both be competing for it, and perhaps there will not be enough fish left over to sell to other communities. Could that be it? A village of giant people must perish so that the Church and the village will have a new product to sell?"

Orin came to a small clearing. There, he saw limbed branches piled together to form rudimentary huts. Each hut was small compared to the bodies he'd seen, causing him to think the people would have to crawl inside of them, and sit instead of standing up.

The footprints were the same, larger than Orin's by half. He followed a set of tracks to the edge of a small ravine. Judging from the stink, this was where the tall folk went to relieve their selves. He followed other tracks, leading to and from the simple huts, or out to where he found a number of fish bones and scales, and also the little bones of animals such as rabbits and squirrels. There was no burnt wood or carbon to be seen, causing Orin to wonder if those large people knew how to use fire.

Wondering where they had all gone, Orin strode to the furthest edge of that tiny village. The high grass was found there also, but it was yellowing and withering while the grass closer to the lake was richly verdant. For a moment, Orin saw nothing. A realization began to creep up within him, when he saw several forms hiding in the grass.

At first, Orin grew frightened, because those tall people were sitting in the grass and watching him. When this feeling passed, a new dread replaced it; the idea that perhaps these people would kill him and eat him.