Roderick and Gorlana Pt. 06

"That..." she wheezed as she let him breathe, "Is what an orc would do to tell a man she wishes him as her mate."

Yendell gasped and grunted as she drove her hips against his loins to pin him to the wall, but replied with a surprising composure, "Simple. To the point. I like it."

"Rrrrgh, I won't stop until you love it," she purred lowly, then grasped his hands to place them on her breasts and kissed him again.

"Mmm, my lady..."

"Uhhgg my man,"

"... if you really wish to consummate-"

"Yesss, consummate," she groaned, "I'll call it by any name you desire my fire-bearded warrior."

Yendell struggled to get out his words between her forceful kisses, "- then we should find a ring, and make a ceremony of marriage-"

"Uhhh," Faringoll licked his neck and ran her tusk through the curls of his beard. "How long will that take? Ten minutes? Please say no more than an hour."

Darganya interrupted them as she turned down the hall, "Ha! Well done sword-sister."

Faringoll looked at her in annoyance and finally lowered Yendell to the floor as he cleared his throat and blushed.

"I hate to interrupt something as tasty as this, but we have bigger matters to attend to."

"No we don't. This is of utmost importance Darganya, we need to arrange a... wedding?" She stumbled on the word.

Yendell nodded to Faringoll, glancing with doubt at Darganya.

"Normally I might agree, but the realm might be on the line," Darganya said. "Gorlana is Rutting."

"Oh... really?" Faringoll frowned in confused doubt.

"It's not for Traulch."

"Oh," Faringoll nodded in acceptance, then suddenly shot her eyes wide, "Oh!"

"Really," Darganya confirmed with a sour smirk, "Would you care to guess for who?"

...

"Roderick!" Yendell exclaimed as he burst through the door. "Are you alright?"

Roderick was focused on a large plate of food, indifferent to Professor Beleros examining him with a strange glass device prodding into his ear, but he looked up and smiled with his mouth full, "Yendell! My friend! I'm well, and glad to see you."

"I brought Faringoll. She's already told me much of what to expect."

"Oh. Thanks, but Korb and Nardill have been offering some advice already. Honestly I'm just taking it one moment at a time. A-..." Roderick looked down at Yendell and Faringoll holding hands. "Are you two finally...?"

Korboq laughed "Ha! Finally. Indeed."

Yendell went red faced, but after only a second's hesitation, held Faringoll's hand all the tighter. "Yes. I intend to wed her, and I thought myself brave and bold for it, but of course I cannot go five minutes without you outshining me. You and Queen Gorlana have truly fallen in love? And, you really intend to face Traulch in combat?"

"Yes. I love her," he said, looking distant and satisfied at saying the words, "More than I thought was ever possible, it's amazing. As far as Traulch goes, I have little choice."

Beleros scoffed, "The physical changes don't indicate pathology per se, but clearly his mental functions are negatively effected. You always have a choice, Roderick. Do you want to know how we treat suicidality?"

"I would agree with the Sage, Roderick," Korboq warned, "I don't think you will survive a duel with him. I know your skill, but we've seen the way they fight; how he fights. His strength and more importantly his speed-..."

"I know. I know I likely go to my death, but if he stands between her and I, then I must. I've risked my life for so many lesser causes throughout the years. If I can't do it now, then what kind of man am I?" Roderick argued with a serene determination.

"Would she not still have you without beating him?" Yendell asked.

"He is calling for Talbidagar," Nardill said gravely, "For either of them to refuse it, would be a dishonour. The Rechlingers at least would revolt, and I suspect many of the Orthalian chiefs would do the same, or at least question her honour and right to rule."

"What has SHE said?"

"Very little according to Carthala," Faringoll said. "She told me Traulch took an embarrassingly long time to realize what he was smelling and once his pride gave way to shame and then quickly to rage, he almost attacked her, but then stalked away shouting that he would win her back as his mate."

"Does it really work that way?" Yendell asked doubtfully.

"It... can. It often has, I'll admit, but I fear the result of this duel either way. Yet, I might fear more what refusing it would cause."

Roderick had stood up with a sudden intense frown the moment he heard of Traulch threatening Gorlana. He spoke lowly and seriously "Then the simplest and best way is for me to kill him now."

"Roderick," the professor stood up scoldingly, " I do not think you are in a competent frame of mind to be making this decision. As much as it is an academic goldmine to have the chance to observe and document the bodily and psychological changes of an Orcish Rutt first hand, I must object. You are not a specimen. You are not even a duke or prince in this regard, to me at least, you are simply a friend, and a good man whom I cannot watch throw his life away."

Korboq said, "He is unlikely to grow any less passionate or reckless Sage, the longer this goes on, and if he catches wind of her scent again..."

Beleros sighed, "Nardill, you are close with Carthala yes? She came to me last night with a request, or perhaps more a warning," he looked back at Roderick who had gone back to devouring what was his third plate of food this morning. "She told me of Roderick and Gorlana's attraction, and besides the scentsfoil, asked if a sedative of some sort could be used, with the eventual purpose of spiriting them both away, for their safety and the good of the realm. I dismissed her then, admittedly quite rudely, thinking it an overreaction to what I was sure at the time was akin to harmless flirtations among nobles, but I see her wisdom now."

"We may be beyond that..."

"We are." Roderick said, wiping his mouth and standing up. "I will not skulk away in secret from this. Not at this point. As you said, the Rechlingers at least would turn to violence at the dishonour, and who knows how many others, if not right away then eventually. I will not have others suffer needlessly for my actions. I will face this. Like an Orc, if that's what it takes."

Yendell turned helplessly to Nardill and Korboq, and then to Faringoll, seeing all of them nodding in acceptance, as if he was somehow in fact making the proper rational decision, even if Yendell couldn't see it. He saw the professor's shoulders slump with a sour look.

Yendell sighed and shrugged, "Won't be the first time I've watched you walk into what should be your death, but I suppose I won't stop you this time either. For the record though I'm with the Sage on this one." He looked to the professor and then to the rest of them, "But um, even after that, what in the burning hells are we going to do about Valessa, and well, all of the bloody rest of it?"

"For now she doesn't know, and I'm not sure how long we can or should keep it that way," Beleros said.

Faringoll placed an arm around Yendell, "One realm at a time, my love."

"I'm ready to face him," Roderick said, walking to the door. "Let's stop wasting time."

...

"I want no time wasted. Get them to the meeting hall right away so we can get this treaty signed and finished," Valessa said to Navarin. "The less time people have to talk amongst themselves the better. I don't want the orcs or the nobles to know of Chasdon's death before then, if it can be helped. Either group might be spurred into unpredictability if so. The assassin was bad enough."

"The dungeon is to be kept tight-sealed and tight-lipped so to speak, as usual... and even more-so today," the palace steward added at her glaring look, "We have already given word for everyone to make their way to the hall as early as possible, though we will make doubly sure that this request has been received."

"Well, perhaps make plain that it is more than a 'request' as you have put it, and is of utmost importance to, shall we say, continue the positive momentum of yesterday," Valessa said with a sardonic smile.

Navarin cleared his throat and nodded, "Of course, your highness. Shall I ready the King to be present as well? It takes more and more time and effort to transfer him to his chair and move him safely down from his rooms."

"No. No, not today, we don't have time. It will be fine without him. Have any of the others already arrived at the hall?"

"Only some of our nobles, princess. I understand there was something at the sparring grounds that the orcs were keen on attending, but I doubt it will take very long. Something involving a table and a dagger? They seemed to imply it was none of our business."

"Pfft. We have no time for sport this morning. Tell them to either put it off or hurry it up. If whatever it is, must go on, I would encourage the others to think that it IS in fact none of our business, and try to keep them away from it. We don't want too many people to be reminded of their brutality. The rumours of the strange noises from the towers last night has enough people on edge. If they see the orcs being violent with each other, even if it is for sport, and then we add word of a murder on top of that..."

"I thought you suggested Chasdon's death was likely a suicide, your highness?" Navarin asked.

"Yes, well whatever it was. Either way. Look, I still need to find one or two of the nobles for a private conversation of reassurance, then I'll meet you and everyone else at the hall. Again, try to make sure the orcs stay ignorant of Chasdon's death, and let me know if they aren't, and what they've heard, and from whom, if so. I need to make sure everyone's 'honour' is maintained in all of this."

Navarin gave her a pensive frown for a moment, then regained his flat composure and headed off with a nod.

...

"You need to consider your honour, Gorlana!" Carthala said with a warning look.

"Fuck my honour!" she shouted and kicked a wooden chair across the room as she continued to pace. "I should fight him myself!"

"Gorlana!" Zurgana stood up in shocked offence.

Carthala shook her head, "He is not challenging you. Even if you would abandon honour in such a way and simply attack him, do you really think you could beat him?"

Gorlana huffed out her nostrils in frustration, "No. If I thought I could, I might have won his clan from him that way instead of mating with him. Though now I wish I had tried."

"Then after you fall to his sword he would finish off Roderick next. What good does it do to have BOTH of you dead. It would make more sense to have both of you... disappear. As I suggested before."

"What?" Zurgana frowned disbelief.

Carthala eyed her and then continued to speak with resignation to Gorlana, "If you've decided you care more for him than Orthalia or your honour as an orc, then the only way not to put both your lives at risk is to spirit you away, in secret. I think the Sage would help. It would leave us in a mess, but at least the guilty parties would be gone, and we could pretend to blame and dishonour your name to keep the Rechlingers from causing a bloodbath."

"Pretend?!" Zurgana spat, "What craven plot is this?"

Darganya scoffed and shook her head, "I told you not to invite her in here, Carthala."

"I have more right to be here than you!" Zurgana said, then turned and faced Gorlana, "Cousin, if you hold any honour to our aunt's and our family's legacy you will stand tall, as our queen, and let the tradition of Talbidagar play out. Who could call herself a proud orc, who shuts her mate away from the battlefield out of fear, to think so little of one they have chosen? You will let him fight and if he wins, Rutt with him all the fiercer, and even I would honour it, then."

"And if Traulch wins?" Darganya commented wryly.

Zurgana spoke before anyone else could, "Then she will mourn, and spit, and cry, for a time, but after the shock, as any true orcish sword-sister, her body and her feelings will know Traulch to be the superior warrior. One she has already shared attraction enough to mate with, and with his rival defeated, perhaps finally give Orthalia the stable, honest pairing she promised, and Rutt with him as she should!"

"NEVER!" Gorlana moved to attack Zurgana but Carthala stepped between them,

"Enough! Both of you!" she scolded.

"Is it too much to ask for my Queen, of alleged honour, to lie in the bed she has made?" Zurgana asked, spreading her arms wide.

Gorlana finally stepped back, staring daggers through Zurgana, hating that she spoke true to Orcish tradition and honour, and that many of her kin would agree with her. She looked away and growled lowly in frustration, wanting desperately to simply flee with Roderick, but knowing it really was too late for that, and she had little real choice.

She closed her eyes and spoke softly but harshly, "I am sorry, sword-sisters. Not for my words now, but for having brought Traulch and these Rechlingers among us and into our high-clans. I thought I could avoid consequences such as these, but I will face them now, nonetheless. I will face this Talbidagar without argument."

"And honour its result?" Zurgana asked suspiciously.

Gorlana simply stared silently, then turned with a bitter tear-stricken face to the door. "Let's go."

...

The cool morning air met Roderick's nose. In a few steps the sand of the sparring grounds met his feet, and the low orcish drum met his ears.

It was time.

Traulch paced and huffed, kicking up dust like some restless bull, and turned when Roderick stepped past the gathering crowd of orcs and into the circle. The Rechlinger chief took two rushing steps forward then stopped himself, with a low growl, as if annoyed that his need for honour stopped him from ripping Roderick limb from limb right then and there.

"The worthless rat shows his face!" he snarled.

Roderick did not reply but simply walked, tall and calm, into the circle. The crowd's rumbling murmurs died to a hush. Almost entirely orcs, but with a few human soldiers peppered throughout. They looked to simply be soldiers who had happened upon the gathering, not understanding its meaning. Beleros and Yendell were off to the side, having been convinced to stay silent and not raise any alarm in the palace. If Valessa or anyone tried to put a stop to this now, it would cause more trouble than letting it happen.

The drum sounded again. Torvrul stepped forward eyeing the two rivals on opposite sides of the circle, seeming to doubt both of their restraint. Roderick supposed that Traulch being a Rechlinger and Roderick being who he was, could make his doubts of their honour reasonable enough.

Sure enough, Torvrul spoke, "We are not in Orthalia. Roderick of Highquarry is not Orthalian, and the Rechlingers do not traditionally abide by the strict honour of Talbidagar on their home soil. S-"

"We are Orthalian! So are you, and so is my mate! You will honour this!" Traulch growled and stomped a heavy foot into the ground.

Torvrul continued, unfazed, "So I put the question to the Duke, Roderick, do you accept this challenge of Talbidagar from Traulch of the Rechlinger clan, and the consequences it would bring?"

Roderick finally spoke, "I still remain the high-chieftain of Southern-Orthalia, and I have always carried Orcish blood within me, I will no longer deny. That said, I respect your acknowledgement of my freedom to choose. Honour does not bind me, but guides."

Traulch growled and spat, "You have NO choice!"

As the crowd murmured, Roderick continued, "Still. I will accept the challenge. I will meet him in Talbidagar."

Torvrul nodded grimly, "Are there terms?"

Traulch shouted, "To mate and Rutt with the Queen!"

Roderick responded, "To ask of her, her hand, if it pleases her."

Traulch scoffed and spat again. Torvrul squinted his eyes but said nothing. Zurgana frowned. Darganya smiled. Beleros cocked his head in interest, then subtly jotted another note with a nervous gulp. Gorlana closed her eyes and exhaled painfully. The crowd rumbled in low whispers.

"No particular lands or titles then," Torvrul confirmed.

"I will accept his death alone," Traulch nodded, pacing restlessly.

Roderick nodded and turned as Torvrul gestured to the weapons laid out for his choice. By instinct he looked at the spear. He almost reached for it. It was the obvious choice by his familiarity, skill and the type of foe. He stopped though. It was what Traulch would expect. What they all expected. And, despite his luck in the past, even though some hoped, all expected him to die. He thought for a long moment, of what he fought for, of who he fought for, and finally chose, first a human shield, and then, an orcish sword. A longer and narrower one than many typical orcish swords, but an orcish sword nonetheless. Their weapon of honour. Even if less practical, even if less effective than his spear. He chose it.

The murmurs of the crowd rose higher. Many proud nods came, though a worried look from Yendell and even from Nardill. Roderick briefly noticed Navarin pushing his way through the crowd and looking around in confusion before turning around again, but he paid him no mind.

He dared to steal a single glance at Gorlana. Even that was reckless. The bodily urge to run to her was so great, but he needed to keep his willpower and turn that energy to the fight. Her eyes were moist with tears, but she met his stare bravely, and proudly; a half-mourning look of affection and regretful but pure admiring love. He tried as best he could to tell her, with his eyes alone, that he would face anything for her, and die happy knowing he had her love, even for a short while. He knew his mind's vision was tunnelling, unable to think of almost anything else but this problem. To be with her and do whatever it takes. To kill any who stand in his way. It's what this felt like, more than anything else, more than the call to Talbidagar itself. He knew his rationality and judgment suffered for it, but he could not bring himself to care or worry. He knew he could not stop the landslide of changes happening within him now, and he knew he didn't want to. He let it pulse through him. Everything in his life, and in the realm, faded into the unimportant blur that the world outside of this became.

He finally turned away, waiting for Traulch, who scowled at Roderick's choice of weapon and then chose his own. A longer, and much heavier orcish sword. The sword would have been difficult for many humans to wield even with two hands, but Traulch held it with one, and made a slice through the air with a sudden quickness that made Roderick step back instinctively before he caught himself. Traulch grinned with a sharp confidence and then chose a short spiked mace for this other hand. He lumbered away to the center of the circle without looking back but then turned around and suddenly shook the earth beneath their feet with a smacking thump of the mace, a cloud of dust rising around him.

Roderick felt an awareness in the back of his mind that this was almost certainly the deadliest foe he had ever faced, yet his body did not fully react in fear. His muscles flexed and every part of his flesh seemed to pulse with an energy that had been steadily rising since he awoke. It was partly why he chose the orcish sword, somehow knowing it would feel lighter in his hands and move with a swifter speed than he might have been able to manage before his body's new changes had begun.

He knew he could not rely on his speed and agility alone though. Traulch likely had him beat in that aspect, still. The Rechlinger was shorter than Orthalian orcs, but that was his only setback. He made up for it not only with a strength beyond his size, but with lightning quick reflexes. Roderick had seen it often enough. The twitching restlessness of the orc, always on edge and paranoid, but when he let it out, his grasp and attack were like a spring suddenly let go. When he had seen him face anyone on the sparring ground, when he had killed the thief in Fortspring, everyone had seen the jarring instantaneous movements of his long-clawed hands and given him a wide berth and a nervous respect. Now, with the orc holding weapons for both close and long reach, he saw no clear paths to victory.