Roderick and Gorlana Pt. 03

He tried to think of how he would ever reach this orc, the advantages of range with his spear and speed over the usually bulkier foes, both no longer his.

Another earth-shaking thud broke the ground below his jumping feet as the orc lunged the spinning ball again, angled from the other side. Roderick did lunge back with his spear this time, just barely glancing off the retracted chain instead of the orc's hand as Baulck flinched back away in time.

They circled each other more actively now, trying to keep the distance and angle from each other that they wanted. Baulck spun the ball in a simple circle at his side, holding his short-sword with more purpose and Roderick faked an attack or two with his spear, the orc flinching back each time but returning the feints and forcing Roderick to do the same. Roderick finally made a sudden long thrust and Baulck spun back to dodge and then suddenly forward again. Roderick had expected as much and saw the off-balance overhead swing coming. He stepped away deliberately instead of a desperate jump, and as the spikes impaled the ground again he immediately stepped forward onto it. He put his weight on the heel of his boot on the end of the chain where it met the ball, and planted the spear at his heel with the accuracy of familiar muscle memory as if he were in the front line of a battle; only he crouched lower and bent forward, knowing what would happen next. Baulck, in his own thoughtless muscle memory, yanked the chain backward, Roderick, spear and all. The spear, planted through the chain-link at his foot, lurched forward along with Roderick and he managed to aim it true, straight into Baulcks armpit.

The spear, pulled back with Baulck's own strength, cut through his skin and deep into his shoulder joint. Roderick immediately twisted the shaft and felt the end scrape against bone, and dig through cartilage, vessel and nerve.

Baulck roared and flinched away, his hand letting go of the ball and chain either through pain or loss of use. Roderick pulled the spear back but fell, off-balance and rolled, coming up in surprise to see Baulck already attacking in insulted rage with his short-sword. Roderick blocked it with his shield with a grunt of pain at the brutal strength of the swing. He thrust back with his spear, but Baulck jumped out of the way of the skewering death-blow and backed up, his right arm hanging limp and useless at his side, as dead weight. They both planted their feet and Roderick moved to attack but then twisted in shock to intercept the short sword being thrown at him headlong. He caught it with his shield, puncturing through just below his hand, and backed away in surprise. As he reached around to dislodge the sword he saw Baulck step quickly over to grab his ball and chain, now in his left hand.

A cruel menacing sneer was on the tall orc's face, in stark contrast to the cocky playful grin that he had begun with. He was clearly not as adept with the ball and chain in his left hand, but it twirled in a figure-8 just as deadly, even if it was slower than before. He made a long overhand swing that Roderick dodged and once again pulled back just in time to avoid Roderick skewering his hand, but in doing so caught his knee with the ball. He roared out in insulted, and maybe even embarrassed anger as he drew blood from his own knee.

All patience lost, Baulck swung the chain in a long horizontal swath. Roderick lurched back nearly falling on his ass, but catching his feet and backing away. Another long wide horizontal swing and Roderick was forced again to back away, nearer the edge of the circle.

Baulck's finesse was gone and he wound up to swing with another simple wide reaching horizontal attack, and this time, instead of backing away, Roderick stepped forward into it.

A look of intense excitement shone from Baulck's eyes seeing the spiked ball coming at Roderick's face, but Roderick took another step forward, dropped down on to his knees and bent backwards for the ball to just miss the top of his head. As he did this he lifted his spear and braced it against his outstretched foot, to catch the chain with it at what he hoped was the halfway point. The ball swung back on its new fulcrum from the spear-shaft, faster than Baulck could react to, and with a sickening sound of crushed flesh, knocked his hand clean off his wrist. The ball and chain, now tangled with Roderick's spear, flew away from them with its momentum, Baulck's severed hand impaled against its spikes.

A guttural roar of pure pain and hatred erupted from the orc as blood spurted from the stump where his hand used to be. His other arm still hanging useless at his side.

A cheer went up from Roderick's soldiers and a roar from the Valiroud Orcs. Roderick stood, holding only his shield, and looked around, breathing a tired breath of cautious relief.

That breath was knocked violently from his lungs when suddenly a kick sent him flying sideways. Baulck came at him again in a maniacal rage on his pale, blood-drained face. Roderick's shield went up to block another flying kick but was knocked away to the side as he struck the ground and another kick that felt like it should have shattered his hand and wrist knocked the shield clean away. Before Roderick could get up he was kicked in the side, pain stinging through his hip as he rolled on to the dirt. Another stone-heavy boot to the side sent him careening in the other direction. Helpless, and empty-handed, he felt sharp pain stung through his ribs and lungs as he flailed like a rag doll from two more vicious kicks from the wild vengeful orc.

His body's rolling momentum was finally allowed to come to a stop, paralyzed by a defeating pain in a body that felt broken. A heavy knee came down on his chest and his wheezing breath was suddenly cut off when Baulck shoved his severed wrist stump into Roderick's mouth and down his throat.

He tried to suck in breath only to find bloody flesh. He bit down and tasted more blood and flesh feeling is teeth sink in, but Baulck simply roared in murderous rage as he choked Roderick to death with his severed forearm.

Roderick heard voices around him as air hunger weakened his mind. Valessa screaming, was she saying 'attack'? Someone else yelling stop. Korboq or someone else's voice saying... something. Was Darganya shouting now? Her voice sounded strange so loud. Chaos seemed to surround him, but perhaps it was simply his spinning dying mind. It seemed to leave his body. He couldn't feel Baulck's wrist anymore in his mouth. Could he feel his mouth though? Was that cold air? Or, simply coldness? Darkness... His thoughts faded to black.

***

Roderick opened his eyes to a painfully bright vertical line of white light, surrounded by emptiness. Was this the door to the afterlife, opening before him? Should he walk through?

No. He was lying down, the darkness on either side of the line coalesced to the dark brown of tent flaps letting a sliver of sun between them. He tried to remember where he was; who he was. He could see a face. It was green. Purple eyes, and a warm smile with an excited interest in him. Could it be? Finally? After all this time? His confused mind wondered in dreamy hopefulness.

"Gorlana?" he tried to rasp, but even his own ears couldn't make out the words from his dry throat.

What was not dry were his loins. Warm wetness that felt incredible, his manhood throbbing. His body's first movement was to thrust his hips up into the orc-woman he had dreamed about for so long. Finally here. His love. Gorlana...

No. Her face was wrong. The nose was different, her tusks hadn't been that long, and the wetness wasn't...

He bent his neck up and his sleepy half-smile twisted to a frown as his body stiffened.

The orc giggled and bit her lip, then took the wet washcloth off of his hardened penis and bent down to a bucket, coming back up with fresh warm water and audaciously rubbed it across his groin and over his balls. He remembered how to move his arms and reached down to grasp her wrist. He realized his whole body was clammy and his thighs dripping wet and realized she had been washing him all over.

She gave a low giggle again and shrugged, "I was ordered to clean you. I was just making sure I paid special attention to your most important parts."

"You were ordered to-...?" his painful voice broke, as he slowly deciphered where he was.

She smiled, "Okay I volunteered. Hmm, maybe your nose IS strong enough to sniff out a lie. Maybe what orc blood you have runs strong..."

She bent forward again to the bucket, holding his eyes as she reached down below and her thick breasts squished together hanging low, with her shirt opened far more than most orcs. She came back up smiling as she followed his gaze.

"One of your warriors complimented me on my breasts last night. I had heard how much humans like them. Do you too?"

He grabbed her hand to stop her from reaching his loins with it again and cleared his throat. "They're... quite fine but I have no interes-cghk!" he coughed as his rasping voice failed. "Water?" he finally pleaded for, when his throat half-recovered.

As he drank she stood and studied him, then she said, "I didn't mate with him like he wanted. I think he was too drunk to do it anyway, and he smelled wrong. You though..." she traced her short claws up his torso and he gulped the last of the cup as tingles shot up his skin. "Many would say Baulck was our best fighter. He had been in dozens of duels, never suffering a serious wound since his early youth,...and you maimed him, left him unable to wield a weapon. You had him all but defeated."

He could see the hunger in her eyes and glanced away uncomfortably.

"Are they saying I... defeated him?"

She gave a low giggle, "No one can agree. Yes and no."

"Are my warriors..."

"They are as alive as you are, and treated well, free to work and wander the village, but not free to leave."

"So we are under your control....Since I lost," he said.

"But you were allowed to live, since none would call what Baulck went through any true victory. At least Darganya refuses to. He required just as much care from the healer to survive."

Roderick was still confused, but was happy enough to still have breath within him, and that there had been no further bloodshed.

"Are you in pain?" she asked, tracing her claws delicately up his torso again.

"A little," he admitted. "But I'd like to sit up. How long have I been asleep?"

"3 nights," she answered, "Though the last was mostly because of the sleeping herbs the healer gave you. He said you would heal faster if you stayed in bed for a while, and didn't move your chest, but agreed to hold them back today. You still should breathe through this rag for a few minutes in the morning and at night, or more often if your throat wheezes any worse." She held up a folded, moist fabric with herbs and some type of fungus pressed between it.

Roderick nodded and took another painful gulp of water.

She took the washcloth and slid down his leg to rub his feet. He exhaled at the pleasant feeling but stopped her.

"I can... tend to myself now I think. Thank you."

She shrugged and gave him a teasing grin. "If you insist. I could still help you later if you prefer."

She lifted the bucket and traced another claw over the muscles of his exposed thigh.

"If it turns out that neither of them are to your liking and you feel well enough to desire a mating... my name is Faurleng."

She turned and walked away before he could ask what she meant by the first part. His half-collapsed cock lifted slightly off of his leg as he watched her large taught ass and smoothly muscled legs walk away from him.

A few minutes later, while he was sitting up and teetering on the edge of the bed, Yendell walked through the tent flap and rushed over to him.

"Take it slow, General. I am glad to see you awake and moving though," the lieutenant said.

Roderick gave him a grateful smirk as he helped him get his balance. "What's the state of things then?" he asked. "Faurleng said we're free to do as we like except not to leave?"

Yendell rolled his eyes and shrugged, "Personally, between you and me I'm just happy to be alive, and if my only option is to be a proud new member of the clan, then so be it."

Roderick shook his head, "It was the terms we agreed to. So they're being treated well?"

"After the first day. A few tried to run. One tried to fight. Then we realized we just had to put in a bit of reasonable work in order to be fed and housed like any of them, and weren't truly going to be treated like slaves. It's been surprisingly smooth sailing since. They even shared some ale with us last night. Thick soupy shit but it does the trick," Yendell explained.

"Glad to hear it," Roderick nodded, "but, why am... I alive?"

"That's not quite as clear. Valessa was screaming to attack when she saw you dying. She was held back though and only a few men started to draw their swords, thank the Gods. Darganya still saw the situation boiling around her though, and once Valessa agreed to submit to her authority and join the clan, she got them to pull Baulck off you. He was mostly unconscious by then too. He had been bleeding too much. It only took one orc to pull him off and he laid there passed out next to you within seconds. Hard to say whether he would have stayed conscious long enough to finish you off had he been allowed to."

Roderick thought back to it and decided Yendell was probably downplaying it to spare his feelings.

"Are we still in their settlement?"

"For now. Though that might change quick. They're already talking about moving, probably more so now that you're up and about."

"Where to?"

"Well... that might depend. Darganya seemed intent on waiting for you to recover to discuss that. Orthalia's still as much of a mess as it was, with any given clan as likely to kill the other as join it from what I hear. She's had a few less-than-pleasant conversations with Valessa that I had the 'pleasure' in trying to moderate, but it was clear Darganya was mostly trying to suss her out rather than looking for advice, and that it wasn't any type of negotiation, though the princess kept persisting, storming out twice on her. She hasn't reprimanded her for her insolence or anything though, which is more than I could have hoped."

"I would agree," Roderick said, easily picturing it.

"I'm honestly just glad you're awake and have your wits still intact. Figuring our way out of here without your orcish-rapport to lead the way was not a prospect I was optimistic about."

Roderick shrugged, "Thanks Yendell. I think you and Valessa would have figured something out eventually."

His lieutenant gave a doubtful look, then shook his head and looked to the door, "Should I call her in to see you?"

"The princess?" Roderick asked, and seeing him nod, he thought about her pushing him into the duel, without so much as a glance of confirmation before bargaining his life away. Anger boiled up inside him again and he shook his head. "No. Not yet in any case. Give me a bit more time to get my head straight.

Yendell nodded, "Sure enough. I'll get them to bring you some food. Hopefully something more human-friendly than the string-roots and shroom-sauce they've been giving us."

He gave him a fraternal pat on the shoulder and stepped out.

Valessa finally arrived much later in the day, when he was finally walking around and almost feeling ready to leave the tent.

She moved quickly toward him with a gasp, seeing him standing, albeit leaning against the cot. Her smile seemed so instinctively genuine and cut with pain that it almost moved him to stand straight up and meet her in the hug she seemed to desire, and had his muscles been any less fatigued he might have. He stayed still, however, and her approach stopped a few feet away with a cautious hand simply placed on his arm.

"You're awake," she said, her eyes darting over him with concern, "and upright. Are you feeling okay?"

"They've been taking good care of me so far it seems. Of all of us from what I hear," he said.

Her smile faded quickly, "It could be worse I suppose."

"It could have been better too," he said bitterly.

"You were so close to beating that towering monster, I almost couldn't believe how bravely you fought," she said, clutching her hand to her chest.

"I shouldn't have had to," he said in frustration.

Valessa sighed and shrugged, "What choice did you have? Don't kick yourself over the fact that we were caught, our orcs should have known."

He shook his head, even more irritated at her misunderstanding, "That's not what I meant."

She gave him a sympathetic smile, "I'm not happy about being subjugated by these brutes any more than you Roderick, but I'm just so glad you're alive. That WE'RE alive. Thanks to you..." she looked up at him in a cautious admiration.

He simply glared. "Don't compliment my 'bravery' when you didn't even ask before sending me to my death."

She backed away a step, "I... was trying to save us. I was thinking on my feet."

"You should have stayed silent!"

"Silent? After what she threatened? I am the highest ranking-..." she stopped herself and put her hands on her hips. "I understand that you don't have to thank me, but whatever the right or wrong of it, it turned out okay in the end."

He scoffed and looked away, "Yeah, completely okay. Beaten within an inch of my life with broken ribs and who knows what else. The only one that deserves my thanks is Darganya and her mercy."

She gasped and flinched almost as if she wanted to hit him but eyed the bandages on his torso and stopped. She glared at him, her eyes glancing back to the muscles of his stomach under the bandages and back up to his rigid face. He looked away from the tight bulge of her chest above her stiffly crossed arms after not being able to hold the gaze of her riveting eyes.

"That green bitch is just revelling in making me do chores like a peasant, and goads me with talk of politics but without any actual interest or respect for any of my opinions."

"I want you to stop antagonizing her," he said.

"What did she tell you?" Valessa asked suspiciously.

"It doesn't matter. She holds our bloody lives in her hands, I don't care if she makes you cluck like a chicken or dresses me like a courtroom fool. She could have us chained, starved, or worse but if she has the heart to treat us like common clansmen as long as we do what we're told, then we should give her our gratitude and pray she doesn't change her mind."

Valessa pursed her thick lips and pointed at him, "I have been fighting for the wellbeing of our soldiers. That is all."

"Well you can leave that to me at this point then,"

"Of course, THAT's what it's about again. Keeping the command of our group for yourself and only yourself hmm? Well enjoy it while you can."

She stormed out as he turned away, his chest aching from his heavy breaths as he resisted from shoving the cot over and kicking the stool.

...

Roderick slowly hobbled out of the tent, grateful that someone had left a few walking sticks available for him. He chose one that looked old, with a pattern of carvings that was interesting, with an odd-looking bone set through the shaft which made for a nice hand support as well. He leaned his body into it, trying not to wince from the pain in his torso as he moved. He squinted in the bright sunlight and took in his surroundings. The huts and houses were all new, but built well enough out of logs and thatch, though he still wasn't sure how permanent this settlement would be. Orcs milled around him and he needed to focus on the armour to discern which were from his allied forces and which were their Valiroud captors. Though all eyed him with a similar calm respect, a few stopping to nod and speak their well wishes, equally as much from the Valiroud as his own, to his surprise. He found the common area, set with tables where the communal meal was just finishing up and some of his human soldiers finally came into view.