Roderick and Gorlana Pt. 04

"Nothing... more than what I described at the meeting. Lightbrew suddenly thrust into my grasp is a benefit, you are correct. Except, it's like being thrown a heavy, powerful weapon and having to catch it off-balance, and I feel like I'm stumbling and falling," she said, trying to let what honesty their was in those words swell within her, hoping Carthala would sense it and be satisfied.

Thankfully her friend relaxed then gestured to the supply-stand, "Hand me the screech-skin, if you won't have a drink at least I might as well, though you still look like you could use a swig to calm your nerves."

Gorlana rolled her eyes, but threw the skin to her.

Carthala took a gulp and then eyed her again. "There has to be more though. You're the bloody Springsnake! You defeated hordes of humans time after time, often against overwhelming odds. You harnessed control over the Rechlingers. You have played this military and political game with a savvy that any of the other three can only meagerly imitate. Why would something like this upset you? It's..." She leaned back and smirked in sudden realization, "It's almost like after the battle of Roancliff. The last time you faced Lightbrew in battle. I chalked it up to the losses from the landslide and your being robbed of what was otherwise a sure victory. You smell similar. Only worse."

"You overestimate your nose. As always," Gorlana gestured at her with a challenging smile. "You think that screech will open your sinuses to sense me out, when all it will do is inflate your confidence."

"You put up defences, desperately as if under siege," Carthala said, leaning towards her.

"And why am I under siege from my own ally?" she replied in bristling irritation.

They stared each other down, until Carthala finally spoke, "What did you smell on him?"

Gorlana was silent, and avoided her eyes.

"Come on, I couldn't have been the only one. You know I grew up in Southern Orthalia near the border of Fringeland, before I moved north. I know human scent better than any other here. I would wager maybe two or three others might have recognized it if they were even close enough. You don't have the experience I do, but I know from our history together your human blood lets you recognize it easier. Was the wind that bad?"

Gorlana tried to continue to sit casually though every muscle in her body felt like it had gone rigid, as she tried to ask calmly, "Carthala why don't you simply tell me what you sensed."

Carthala shook her head and sighed, "I thought we could be more honest with each other than this. Yes, having Lightbrew suddenly plopped in your hands is a new, stressful situation, but does not explain your disturbed uncertainty. However... meeting him for the first time, to unexpectedly find him stinking of MATING scent for you... THAT would have thrown me off as well, have no doubt."

Gorlana eyed her stiffly but with gradually deepening breaths.

"You sensed it. I KNOW you must have. You were moving too much in the swirling winds for me to get a read on you... perhaps on purpose," Carthala said with a pondering look, "but the sooner you admit it the sooner we can move forward. Your lack of shock when I said it ten seconds ago has given you away, sword-sister."

Gorlana suddenly banged her fist against the table next to her and this time she did in fact break a slat off of it.

"FINE! I could smell him, and YES you are right." Gorlana said, taking shuddering angry breaths, her mind eventually realizing Carthala's assumptions were to her benefit. That she still didn't know the full truth, and hadn't sensed her response to him.

"Thank you!" Carthala said, leaning back with a cool satisfied smile and taking another drink. "You almost had me doubting your senses AND your sanity. This is such a relief. And, such an opportunity!"

Gorlana eyed her uncertainly.

Carthala pointed at her, "No, I'm right. First of all, straighten that back of yours, woman, I'd be walking on the treetops if I had the prowess to twitch the nose of a war-rival like this. He should HATE you! Yet your deeds, your skill... he must respect them so much. Then of course the fact that you're both mixed... He pines for you as soon as he catches your scent and voice, without even laying eyes on you. Yet he WANTED to. Begged to see you despite suffering blows for it. Agh! I could write a war-song about it!"

"He wasn't BEGGING, he-... UGH," Can you not sense how uncomfortable I find this?"

"Yes, but you should snuff out your shame. This is yet another advantage! If you can use it to get him to talk. Perhaps even turn him."

"No! I don't want to use him like that," she said, turning away.

"Very few would see dishonour in it."

"Traulch might kill him!" Gorlana said, keeping her back to her and trying desperately to hold back tears at the thought.

Carthala spoke carefully, "Yes... I suppose you are right to worry over that. We simply won't let him."

"I have less control over Traulch than I'd like. He seems to test his limits every time we speak."

"You are your tribe's Queen-Heir, High-Chieftain, and their bloody triumphant General." Carthala pointed at her with a proud intensity. "You will command your loyal followers to protect your most valuable prisoner, and they will prevent any threatened tantruming Rechlinger from touching him."

Gorlana scoffed and shook her head but smiled gratefully nonetheless. "Fine. You may be right, but we should still make sure as few people catch wind of this as possible. I will admit this might not be the end of the world. Perhaps good will come of it," she said, trying not to imagine too many ridiculously good possibilities with the man tied up outside.

Carthala grinned and leaned closer with a playful sniff, "There's that excited hope you should feel."

Gorlana stood up, still wanting to end their conversation while suspicion was low. "Thank you, Carthala. I perhaps needed this."

Carthala took a swig and stood up too, with a scoff, "Perhaps?..."

Gorlana stuck her tongue out at her old friend.

Carthala smiled broadly, "Perhaps... if food and shelter aren't enough to entice that poor horny little slice of a man to talk, you could... offer him something even more enticing," she said, glancing down at Gorlana's body and winking.

Gorlana resisted punching her and instead swung her arm to snatch the alcohol out of her hand. "You've had enough of this I think."

Carthala laughed heavily. "I joke! ...mostly," she said slyly.

"Out of my tent!," Gorlana shoved her. "I've suffered enough of your insolence," she laughed along with her pushing her towards the entrance.

Gorlana closed the tent flap on Carthala's snickering chuckles, then sighed, and her smile faded to an exhausted frown.

She slumped back into her chair and closed her eyes. How was she to keep this up? She grabbed the alcohol and took a swig herself finally. Carthala hadn't left her enough of it.

...

Roderick opened his mouth and let the orc slowly pour water on to his dry tongue. Swallowing awkwardly, he tried to sit straight-backed and dignified, even while some of the water dribbled down off his chin, but his morale was fading quickly. The night had been cold with a biting breeze, leaving every muscle and joint in his body stiff as he lay with his hands still tied behind his back to the heavy pole.

What ate at his confidence and hope the most though, was that there had been no sign of her. Gorlana's scent had been nowhere to be found. Nothing other than brief hints of it here and there in his nostrils, that might have simply been his own desperate imagination.

It had been nearly two days. She had suggested they would speak again, but all he'd received were simple brief reminders from Torvrul that he would gain better treatment if he chose to begin talking again, but not pressing him with any specific questions.

Roderick's only words to him still, were 'I would speak with Springsnake. In private."

They hadn't responded.

She had seemed concerned for him, as if she cared, he thought. Perhaps he only hoped, foolishly. If she did care, she would have had them bring him more food, water, any amount of warmth. Or, to at least untie this bloody blindfold.

His anger turned to bitter hopelessness. 10 years of wishful wondering, of that far off, but still possible hope, now broken upon the rocks. To be reunited with her again, only to be ignored.

The orc took the water away and spoke, "I have scraps of meat as well. Some better, some worse. Would you like to begin talking, while you still have the strength, so you receive the better portion?"

Roderick gritted his teeth, and let out a sigh. He knew he should be stronger and hold back, but the energy and purpose that the taste of Gorlana's scent had given him, had now robbed him of just as much, now that he was in withdrawal from it. The cold nights and near-starvation might not have broken him, but he felt like now, her spurning of him almost had.

Fuck it. He thought, deciding to give in, at least a little.

"If it's as lousy as the stringy stew you guys usually make it probably won't matter. I know for a fact there's salt to be had in Orthalia, but you fuckers still haven't figured out how to properly use it."

He braced for a possible blow, but heard the orc bellow a hearty laugh instead.

"Haha! Well then, Lightbrew. A petulant complaint is still spoken words, so I will take what victory I can. Would you like me to chew it for you first like a mother bird then?"

"Only if you let me fly away after."

"Hmph. You know I was instructed only to reward you if your words were useful."

"It IS useful. I've given you the vital information that you need to improve your bloody cooking. Nationwide."

The orc laughed again, "I remember once, I spent my hard earned coin on a bottle of Andralian wine. Complete waste. The shit was weak and flowery."

Roderick smirked and shook his head. "Just give me the the fucking gristle."

Roderick started to think he wouldn't get anything at all for a moment as a silence hung briefly, but finally the orc spoke, "No I'll give you the good one. Chewing it won't work that undersized jaw of yours too hard, so you can keep that pink little mouth flapping."

Roderick felt a generous wad of meat stuck in his mouth and he sucked back the juices like it was the nectar of the gods, then chewed, trying not to groan in satisfaction but he knew the orc could likely smell his relief.

"There's a good mutt," the orc said. "If you have to drain your piss you might as well do it right on the ground behind you. We're pulling up camp this morning and should be off within the hour. We're in a hurry. Springsnake wanted to be gone yesterday."

Roderick's eyebrows raised. He had thought the sounds around him sounded slightly different but couldn't decide how.

"Where to?"

The orc gave a rumbling chuckle, "Nice try. You should know as well as I that we ultimately travel to Orthanhall. The particular route we take there is no concern of yours."

Twenty minutes later he let out a cry of blissful pain as his arms were unbound behind him and tied again in front of him instead. His muscles and shoulders were screaming at the change but almost felt like he had been freed outright. He knelt down on the ground and bent forward so he could reach his arms above his head for the first time in days, wincing as his tissues rediscovered their lost movements but he was soon kicked in the ribs, and rolled on the ground with a groan.

"Get up! Stand and walk with honour. We move," someone commanded.

He was lead to various parts of the camp to wait a couple times, then finally started walking slowly along the trail with the sounds of their moving forces. His bound hands tugged him along their line. He awkwardly tried to keep pace with his painful splinted leg with the crutch tied to his elbow. Eventually he recognized the fresh scents of the forest were closer around them with the decay of autumn leaves and overripe berries. His leg muscles weren't as affected as his arms thankfully, but still complained at the new activity. The movement was a relief overall though, to finally use his body for something other than shivering in the dark. He only wished he knew what he was moving towards.

...

"It's nothing good," Gorlana said bitterly.

"It was a simple question," Carthala chuckled defensively. "You DO have some idea of what Darganya's up to then?"

"No," Gorlana said, in annoyance, "Simply that I would never expect it to be to our benefit as she skulks through whatever secret shadows she has found."

Carthala eyed her again, "Darganya has always been a bit headstrong and unpredictable, but I don't remember you holding such a grudge towards her before all of this. I don't entirely trust her either, but nor do I trust any of the undeclared chiefs at this point."

"She thinks herself to have such prowess! As if she could seduce the entire Andralian forces to be behind her, and pretend that she would then follow me, instead of being the threat she truly is."

Carthala and the other chiefs walking beside them were silent as the leaves crunched under their boots on the trail.

Torvrul cleared his throat, "I do find it suspicious that no reports have indicated their whereabouts in over a week though. If she has not been spotted heading east to Iringoll's side, she must have gone further south with the humans into the traitors' territories."

"Pfft. Defected and joined them truly then!" Gorlana spat.

"Few have spared many scouts to search that far south, granted, but none of them have given reports either."

"I'll admit it is a somewhat disturbing mystery for her to have disappeared like this, but as long as she's not stalking us trying to steal him back, I'm satisfied enough," Gorlana said.

"What I would have expected would have been for them to have spread out in an aggressive search for someone as important as Lightbrew, yet it seems to be the opposite."

"Perhaps they already know we have him, and smartly await our demands rather than risk him in an attack."

"Or perhaps she exaggerated her relationship with him, and simply does not care," Gorlana suggested. "Perhaps they did not mate, but she simply fooled him into rubbing her feet, without him knowing what it would imply, and let their clan assume..."

"No, we have enough reliable reports that she was telling the truth,"

"Has he confirmed it?" Gorlana asked, trying desperately to stifle the urgent irritation in her voice. Her brain begged her mouth to stop blustering and pouting like a jealous youngster. What was he making her become? Why couldn't they stop talking about this?

"No," Carthala said, eyeing her again. "As we said earlier, he has finally spoken some brief replies, but nothing of substance. Why don't you ask him yourself? He has said he would speak with you."

"He does not deserve to make demands! He will wait, and suffer his neglect in silence if that is what he chooses," she said, irritated at Carthala's suggestive tone.

Torvrul spoke carefully, "I would not think it dishonour for you to give him a small brief audience. I worry if we continue to hold back food and shelter on these ever-colder nights we may we may awake to find him with a fever that would rob him from us. I would give him some warmth, but would prefer it to be earned. If you understand."

"He has received all that he has earned," Gorlana said scornfully, but inside her heart twisted in sorrow imagining it. "Just... keep him alive."

She could barely sleep last night listening to the howling winds knowing Roderick was cold and alone out there. If only she hadn't acted so stupidly off-balance that first day, she might be able to afford to offer him more mercy without it seeming suspicious. It was true she didn't want to speak with him in private, but the reason was purely nervousness.

"In any case, it is a relief to us if Darganya has not in fact joined Iringoll as we expected. As it stands, Iringoll has the most clans and the mightiest forces behind her by a fairly wide margin already. Though it means it will take her longer to get back to Orthanhall from the southwest."

"So Zurgana will arrive first from the Northwest then?"

"At this rate, yes she will likely beat us there," Gorlana said.

"And Faringoll?"

"Still sits in the Northeast. She had been starting to make her way back gradually, but now she delays, with unclear reasons."

"Did the Forgruth finally agree to head north to join her?"

"Yes. But I'm not sure awaiting them is the only thing that stalls her, she may have even shifted towards the northern Rampart foothills with some of her forces, almost as though she feels she needs to reinforce those areas behind her, though I could not say why."

Gorlana sighed, "And it will all shift and swirl and perhaps be completely different in a week anyway."

"The chaos is beginning to solidify high-chieftain. Lines are being drawn more clearly as Orthanhall moot looms closer, and we will see the true colours of all soon enough."

Gorlana walked in uncomfortable silence. She had finally convinced herself that she truly wanted this. That she could be queen, that she could take Malgora's place. She had made herself sure. And now, she felt like she was walking towards her doom, with her long lost love unfairly dragged along with her to the same fate. Their secret felt like brewing storm that could not be stopped, the truth of it about to rain down on all, and nothing she could do but wish that she could run, though she knew she couldn't.

...

Roderick tried to curl his body more tightly into itself, trying to preserve what warmth he had against the cold night air. It was purely on instinct though. His body continued to try while his mind sunk into hopelessness.

Four more days on the move and still no sign of Gorlana coming anywhere near him. They had kept him blindfolded but he knew they had moved his post to the far edge of the camp, to keep him less of a distraction, apparently. He had overheard that the order had come from Gorlana herself. She wanted him even further out of sight and out of mind. It hurt more than the bloody abrasions on his wrist. It bit into him more than the unrelenting frigid night.

He had given up on asking to speak with her. He had given up on almost everything. He just wanted to let the night's cold engulf him, and end his suffering, both inside and out.

If only he could breathe her scent one last time. He almost felt like he could sense it now. That renewed memory filled his mind like it was the only thing that mattered. How had he been reduced to this? Ten years of achieving his station, his respected career, everything he had become, all seemed like nothing, now that the secret love he had carried rooted in his heart all that time, was now finally spurned.

The scent grew in his nostrils. It was not just his memory. He breathed in again and opened his eyes, frowning.

Was he hallucinating? Had their morsels left him that malnourished? Was the cold that bad?

He lifted his head after another revitalizing breath.

"Shh," a quiet voice came from towards the trees, "Don't move, don't make any noise."

Was it... "Gorlana?" he whispered back, growing more sure as he sucked in another breath from the cold wind blowing past.

"The guards aren't far, be still and as quiet as you can," she rasped.

"What-..." his voice caught when he felt her hand on his shoulder.

He couldn't stop himself from grasping it with his own, pulling the rope taught to do so. Within a second their fingers were interlocked. Her strong, soft hand squeezed his and her claws started to dig into his skin but he squeezed all the harder.

"I've missed you," he croaked.

He felt her breath on the back of his neck and heard what he thought might have been a single quiet sob.