Roderick and Gorlana Pt. 02

"We're technically still unsure about Demeron, but Springsnake had annihilated his army a week before coming across yours, and we have yet to hear of any survivors having escaped. They thought his was the only army, and with their success decided they could leave their border less defended to make a shot at Fringeland through the pass. They ran into you instead."

Roderick shook his head in disbelief.

Valessa continued, "You defended yourself strongly to me here, and I want you to do the same tomorrow, in front of the council, but be reassured that you obviously fared far better against that army than he did, and most of us realize that."

Roderick nodded bitterly.

"Follander on the other hand, was assassinated."

"What?!" Roderick's head shot up out of his hand.

"I know it's rare for Orcs to do that, apparently most of them see it as dishonourable s-"

"They have a STRICT code against it, and the honour is upheld b-"

"Yes yes, I'm not uneducated on their behaviour," Valessa rolled her eyes, "In any case these are no ordinary orcs, and I believe that's part of the reason Malgora is more eager for peace." She paused to see if he already knew but when he shrugged she continued, "Have you heard of the Rechlinger clan, from the far Northern reaches of Orthalia?"

"I've heard of them, but I've never seen them, they're reclusive and barely interact with their neighbouring clans, let alone fighting in the war."

"Well, they only begrudgingly considered themselves part of Orthalia before, even fought some small but bitter wars in the past against the ruling clans. Now they've suddenly joined the fight, but seem to have done so to further their own clan's power. They make the other clans and especially the queen uncomfortable and the more battles they win the more influence they command."

"Was springsnake?..."

"No. She's very much part of the ruling clan, in fact their are rumours that she... never mind. Anyway, you haven't come across any Rechlinger hoards yet. Springsnake is too intelligent and savvy besides. These orcs on the other hand... well let's just say the stereotypes and derisive myths of orc's bestiality that I admit we've exaggerated over the course of the war, might actually apply fairly accurately to these. In any case, Follander came across their main hoard, and won his battle with them, but they both suffered high losses. The Rechlingers evidently took this as insult enough to have the excuse to send in assassins, who were unfortunately quite capable."

"What little I had heard of them suggested they don't follow the honour-codes, thus the animosity in the past," Roderick sighed and shook his head. "So that leaves General Corpington to take the helm of high-general."

"Oh GODS, please no." Valessa replied quickly, "That fop is on the eastern borders dealing with the unimportant upstart skirmish on the coastal islands simply to get him out of the way. Thankfully being the oldest General does not grant him that rank. No Roderick. You were not initially called to the capital because of this letter. You were here for a possible promotion. As long as you were deemed worthy. And, despite the rocky start, I think it's going to work out for you. ...IF you can make a better first impression tomorrow at the meeting than you did with me, and if you can take some of my advice. I will support your promotion, and in turn I would hope you can assist in lending your support to the council for my agreeing to meet with the orcish queen," Valessa said, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Roderick nodded, trying to keep the dizzying barrage of surprises from spinning his head off his shoulders. She started to look doubtful at his silence until he finally responded. "Yes. I... didn't expect any of this, but yes I think that sounds alright."

She held out a hand to him and he almost bent down to kiss it again, "No SHAKE it," she corrected him with a sigh and he flushed at ruining the moment.

"Now, if you can listen to me without giving me that petulant prideful look you did before... You're a mess. You need the following before tomorrow morning. A bath, by the Gods a bath. A barber, your weapons and armour to the smithy for an urgent shining, and a crash course in etiquette from Navarin."

Roderick tried to keep whatever look she described off of his face, and begrudgingly admitted to himself that he should be grateful for her help, and that she was likely right. Her pouty demanding look that SHE put on made it more difficult, but he at least knew enough etiquette not to tell her that outright.

They made a more rigid and polite goodbye than he expected after their conversation, and seeing the servant in the doorway made him wonder if that was why. He spared one last glance at her before leaving and met her eyes with a curiosity that she might have shared for the smallest fraction of a second before coldly turning away again.

...

Roderick stepped around the pillar and saw what everyone else had their eyes on. Korboq attacked the human soldier with snarling ferocity, flashing his two swords with a heavy strength. The soldier, surprisingly holding two swords as well, backed away with a yell, parrying away the attack with flailing desperation. He found his feet though and thrust forward to make Korboq dodge left, then immediately spun to slash from the side with his other sword. Korboq only just blocked it in time with his hilt, but managed to keep it there long enough to bring his other sword around and catch the soldiers sword between them and twist roughly to rip it from the human's hands. The man spun again in a quick circle to slash from the other side with his remaining sword but Korboq again was able to block it in time and bring his free sword in a wide arc to the man's exposed throat.

Korboq's sword stopped and hung in the air, inches from the man's skin. The soldier opened his eyes from his wince and realized he had lifted his free arm up as though he was holding a shield, that he was obviously more used to carrying. He looked down at his miming arm and suddenly burst out laughing at himself and Korboq smiled and drew back his sword. The crowd's hush burst out into a chorus of cheers, jeers and laughter.

The man relaxed and shook his head, "Gods be damned your good! I don't know how you keep track of two blades going that fast without two heads on your shoulders, but I think I'll stick with my shield."

The crowd of soldiers started moving in from the circle they had formed and mingled again in the sparring grounds of the barracks.

Korboq shook the man's hand and nodded. "Every weapon has its purpose, but the sword is our weapon of greatest honour, and two of them doubly so."

Roderick scoffed as he approached behind his green friend, "If you'd had a spear and a shield you could have beaten him," he said to the soldier, with a slap on Korboq's back. "Never fight your enemy on HIS terms, that's the lesson you should take from this."

The soldier nodded respectfully, "General Roderick. I'm honoured. We were not sure what to make of your... companions at first but we've already learned quite a bit from their interesting techniques."

"Glad to see it," Roderick said honestly.

The two sparrers went to deposit their weapons and Roderick turned to his Lieutenant Yendell with a knowing smile.

"I'd say it's a better start than I'd feared," he said. "Better than a real skirmish in the mess hall."

Yendell raised his eyebrows and cocked his head, "It wasn't certain at first. I've never felt such an awkward tension as when they first stepped into the grounds, but two of the orcs started sparring and drew some attention, then comments, and one thing led to another and... well we'll see if their soldiers start wearing war paint by the time we leave."

He laughed and shook his head and took in the crowd of soldiers going through forms and a few others sparring with dulled swords and spears. There was a decent crowd of onlookers behind the rail along the edges as well. Yendell seemed to notice his eyes catch on a larger young woman in a sparkling gown under a parasol.

"Even the young duchess came out to watch, though I've been told she's here almost every day, right around sparring time. Especially on hot days when the men are liable to doff their shirts," Yendell said waggled his eyebrows.

Roderick squinted his eyes, "That's..."

"Dabirra. The King's niece," Yendell clarified.

Roderick couldn't help noting that the tilt and shape of her pretty eyes were about the only thing she came close to sharing with Valessa. Her face was otherwise fairly plain despite a wallop of makeup and she had more chins than most men would prefer, but her eyes scanned the field with a spark of extreme interest and had a mischievous glint.

"Ah, dammit is Korboq...?"

"Walking right towards her, yep." Yendell quickly made a beeline towards him.

"I told him not to-..." Roderick sprang forward to catch up.

"My lady," Korboq said with a deep bow. "Of all the human women I see here on the grounds, nay, the palace, nay the city, you are the most noticeable of all, and not even at all due to your beautifully blinding dress."

"Oh?" Dabirra said with a sudden nervousness, though not exactly in fear, "What... made YOU notice me?"

"Why your feet of course my lady. So large and flat under your sturdy legs. And... I must say I cannot believe how much of the skin those shoes reveal..." Korb faltered in nervousness as well, his nostrils twitching, "I apologize I have not introduced myself. I am Korboq of the Pinecave Hold, known as Stoneheel to my hoard. Could I have the honour of knowing your name?"

"Dabirra!" a different voice called out.

Valessa came into view, heels clacking on the cobblestones. Roderick had pushed his way through the crowd, cringing at Korboq's words, and pulled up short seeing the princess suddenly rush in.

"I summoned you a half hour ago and Navarin says you refused to come," Valessa said stopping next to her with her arms crossed.

"Hello cousin," Dabirra said disinterestedly, "You know I always come to watch the practice grounds at this hour. Tea with the noble-women can wait."

"Well actually it can't, they're all gone already. There wasn't much of substance to discuss in the end."

"Is there ever?"

Valessa sighed in frustration, "Your mother insisted when you moved here that I have you make connections with the most influential of-..." she stopped and looked around at their company, eyeing Korboq especially with discomfort, before glaring at Roderick. "And YOU general, are supposed to be in your quarters where Navarin is no doubt waiting for you by now, for the tutelage we discussed."

Roderick suppressed his own sigh, "My apologies princess, but I thought it wise to check in on my soldiers before heading straight back. Though I'm relieved that... MOST of them are behaving," he said, looking at Korboq, though the orc hadn't noticed him. He was too busy looking down deferentially which happened to put his gaze on Dabirra's feet.

"I will head there right away," Roderick said, and pulled on Korboq's arm to lead him away as well.

To his surprise Dabirra called out, "It was a pleasure to meet you Korboq, I do hope we may speak again."

"Of... course, I hope so too," Korboq said spinning his head around and stopping in his tracks, "It's... an honour, your... h- highness?" Korb faltered and muttered the last word looking at Roderick for help as Dabirra giggled.

As Roderick pulled Korboq's arm to continue walking away, he decided that if he spoke to the Sage Beleros again, he would ask him if he knew that Orcs could blush. HE hadn't known until that moment.

He, Korboq and a chuckling Yendell sat on a couple barrels a short distance away as Korboq let out a shuddering breath and whispered. "Did you SEE her? Humans are always confusing but I thought maybe I could smell... and the size of her shoes! The type where you could almost see the spaces between her toes they showed so much..."

Yendell scoffed, "Is that like cleavage to you?"

Korboq realized he was being mocked and gave a snarl, "You humans and your narrow-minded obsession with breas-..." he looked back at the onlookers who weren't that far away and stopped himself. Then quieter he asked, "Is she not considered attractive to human men?"

Yendell and Roderick now gave a nervous look at the two women nearby and looked back at each other doubtfully.

"I mean..."

"...everyone has their tastes, I suppose,"

"Let's just say it's not common for a woman of her station to be unmarried at her age,"

"Though you could say the same for Valessa so..." Yendell commented. It was true, though the princess was only in her mid-twenties.

Korboq read their reactions and looked back at Dabirra with a fascinated smile, "So she does not yet have a mate."

"Shush!" Roderick leaned closer whispering. "Korb. I already told you your little... experiments with talking to human women are NOT allowed here. It was risky enough bringing you guys in here, I'm not going to let you ruin our alliance so you can embarrass yourself with the duchess... for science!"

"For what? No Roderick this is not a curiosity like the others, this is the first time I've actually felt-"

"I don't care. Cut it out. Behave, or I'm... sending you for a soaped bath and dressing you like their chamberlain."

Korb gasped, "You WOULDN'T-"

"Just do as I say," Roderick said with a pointed finger and turned to leave.

"As you command," Korboq said, dropping his shoulders in reluctant agreement, "Chief Lightbrew."

Roderick heard a soldier approach Korb after he started walking away.

"So that's General Roderick," the man said. "What did you call him?"

"Lightbrew is his orcish warname," Korboq said, immediately back to his jovial spirit.

"Warname?"

"My warname is Stone-heel," Korb said proudly.

Another orc nearby piped up with a smile, "Because he's goat-shit at scouting and spying, but you'll never knock him down."

Korb laughed and threw a handful of sod at the other orc, then shrugged, "It's true."

"From what I can tell it's something like a cross between a nickname and military monikers but less rank and more... masking identities," Yendell explained.

"When we become warriors on the battlefield, we become more than our old selves," Korb intoned proudly.

The soldier nodded with genuine interest, "I could see the use in that... Could I have a war name then?"

"I have not seen you fight yet," Korboq said.

The man chuckled, "Fair enough. I also meant that you called him CHIEF Lightbrew though. Is he really a chief?"

Yendell started to reply, "Kind of-"

"Yes," Korboq said confidently.

The soldier nodded, "Cause the crown put him in charge of your territories, I guess that's what you'd call him eh?"

"No," Korboq said sternly. "He earned his chiefdom as truly as any orc. At first, of the Kraldian clan, by way of honour-combat. Then, above my own Galldren and our neighbour Barvol clans who had been allied with him prior to his victory. Then, BEFORE your king was allowed to make his decree, Lightbrew was granted the high-chieftain's horn by the consensus of the chiefs of our lands that fight with you."

"Were you there? At that duel? I'd heard of it but no one talks about it like they actually know what happened."

"Are the deeds of your General not known to you?" Korboq said, with concern.

"Well he's not really OUR general, though they say he's gonna be high-general now so I guess he will be soon."

"Then you must know of his deeds. Gather your men. I will tell the tale," Korboq said in a commanding voice, sitting up straight and proud. "Bring me an ale."

Valessa noticed the gaggle of men gathering around the orc on the barrel, and decided to drift closer without obviously paying too much attention, but too curious to not want to be within ear-shot.

Roderick quickened his pace out of the sparring grounds listening to Korb's fading conversation and wanting to be out of sight when Korboq launched into his story. He'd heard it too many times before and it always seemed to grow more embellished every time. The memories of it were far from faded and always left him feeling more anxious than proud. He continued into the palace, inevitably reliving it in his mind again...

*****

3 years ago...

Roderick wondered how many times the average soldier seriously considered desertion. At this point, unless he was an outlier, it was more times than any commander would ever be comfortable thinking about. He didn't know why any of his men hadn't run yet, considering their situation. He'd never wanted to run from a hopeless situation as desperately as he did now, to get out of this command tent that he felt he had no place in.

He was in charge. Wasn't this what he had wanted? Watching his lieutenants and generals make what he thought were mistakes for so long, he had fantasized about what he would do if he were in charge. He had been climbing the ranks fast. Just promoted to the lowest rung lieutenant. But now suddenly, as if fate wanted to laugh at his hubris, he been thrust into top command of this army.

His general's head sat atop an orcish spike somewhere in the valley below. His top lieutenant lay dying and delirious from mortal wounds somewhere back in the medic tent. That meant command now fell to Roderick.

He stared at the small hand-drawn map in front of him, with place-markers for troops, barriers, and natural obstacles. He knew he had a keen mind for these things, as many commanders had told him already, but by all accounts, from any angle he looked at it... they were fucked.

The awkward silence from the argument a minute ago suddenly broke again with several voices talking quickly.

"A controlled retreat is still our only option,"

"What the fuck do you think we've been doing the last 3 days? It's brought us HERE. We make a stand!"

"With NO supplies?! We're spent."

"A full on retreat then, make for the river."

"What good will that do? It won't stop them and they can outpace us!"

"We surrender then,"

"They don't DO merciful surrenders,"

"Well, what the hell else are we supposed to do?"

Roderick stood silent and then... did what he had wanted to do, and left the tent.

"Lieutenant!" they called after him.

"Give me 5 minutes!" Roderick called back, and stomped into the night and towards the cook fires.

He wasn't deserting. Not even avoiding the situation really. He was taking it into his own hands and doing what he realized was the first thing he had always imagined doing when he was in charge.

"Korboq," Roderick called as he approached.

"Lightbrew! Have an ale! We await what may be our final glory! What more cause t-"

"I need to talk, come with me."

Korb frowned but followed, "Are they making a silent attack already? That is not Steelfist's way. Perhaps it is a feint t-"

"It's not that. Look, apparently I'm the one in charge now, and-"

"And we raise our mugs to you Lightbrew! Our spirits are lifted higher knowing one we share a bond of-"

"Quiet! We're not that far away."

"I wasn't going to state it outright, you know we respect that,"

"Just listen. You're one of the orcish captains, but... do Paqwid or Dorfol outrank you?"

The orc scoffed, "They may SAY they do, but we do not set a staircase like you-"

"Yeah yeah it's different I get it, look, what I'm getting at is... I want to invite you to the command tent."

Korboq froze in silence.

"I know it's never been done by other humans before, but I'm in charge now, and I'm s-..."

His words caught as Korboq suddenly threw his arms around him in a tight hug and slapped is back. "I KNEW we were right to believe in your blood Lightbrew. I would be honoured," he said with a wide sharp-toothed smile.

"Will the other two orc-captains be offended?" Roderick asked. "I know you better as a friend, so I'd rather it be you."