Smitten Ch. 07

But there were a few who murmured, suggesting that we were cursed - that our good fortune would disappear if we left the Tree (I wasn't sure that those two ideas made sense together, but there's no accounting for the way some people think). A few voices were raised against the captive humans, Alatey and Gintar. These rumblings would only grow louder.

I bedded down between Shaghar and Umog. Coopah and Snak were close by. Ghorza and Shelur were on watch.

Lagakh herself woke Coopah and me the next morning.

- "We need you to talk with them."

- "Who? Alatey and Gintar?"

- "We need to know why the humans are here." she said. "Will they go away if we hand over the captives?"

- "We'll try." said Coopah.

The two men were under guard. Both of them looked apprehensive; they were probably well aware of the precariousness of their situation. Coopah and I sat down in front of them.

- "Unfortunately, there's no more time for polite fencing. We need to know why you're here." he said.

- "I don't know what you mean." said Alatey. "We were captured."

- "On the edge of our territory. What were you doing there? Who are you, really?"

- "We've told you - we're foresters."

- "You're no more foresters than I am a fish." said Coopah. "And those men aren't just searching for you, are they? There's no way a party that large was gathered and sent out so soon after you were captured. They were already on our borders."

Neither man answered. Coopah was on the right track.

I chose to appeal to their better nature - if they had any.

- "Two of my lovers are pregnant. I want to save them, and our children. Alatey - what if Lambug is already pregnant? Or Bula?" Then I turned to Gintar. "And what about you? Don't you want to see your wife again?"

That struck a chord. Gintar turned to look at his companion. Something told me that if Alatey didn't speak, Gintar would.

- "Alatey." said Coopah. "Who's coming?"

The fair-haired man took a deep breath.

- "The Duke." he said.

***

500 years ago, Varna was a kingdom. But centuries of civil wars and succession crises finally broke the realm. Only a few years ago, a soldier named Arivan Cunedda made himself master of the port town of Whydah, and then succeeded in capturing the capital, Elmina. Cunedda founded a new dynasty, but wisely chose not to call himself a king. Instead, he adopted the title of Grand Duke, and slowly began to recover the lands of the old Kingdom.

Evidently, he was now looking to his eastern border. He was establishing a new settlement at Calep - and one of the first settlers was a young farmer, named Gintar.

- "It was just bad luck." said Alatey. "Gintar and I were looking at possible pasture sites when your scouts captured us."

- "Bad luck for whom?" asked Coopah.

The Duke knew that his new settlement was in an area which had been raided by orcs in the past. He knew that the raiders had been caught - and eliminated - but he was prepared to do whatever was necessary to prevent future raids.

- "And he's here now? In person?" I asked.

Alatey nodded.

- "With how many men?" asked Coopah.

Alatey shrugged. "I'm not sure, exactly ..."

- "One hundred and fifty." said Gintar.

- "Thank you." said Coopah. "That may help to avoid unnecessary bloodshed."

He was right about that; there was no way that we could even contemplate fighting so many. We'd had our hands full with Kurbag's coup, which had involved only a dozen fighters.

We reported to Ditgurat and Lagakh with what we'd learned. Shaghar was there as well, growing into her role as the band's shaman.

- "Are you sure about the numbers?" asked Lagakh. "Lambug scouted the Blasted Tree last night and after dawn. She counted between forty and fifty."

- "There are another hundred somewhere nearby." Coopah assured her.

- "It makes no diff'rence." said Ditgurat. "We cannot fight so many."

- "Even if we could defeat these, more would come." said Coopah.

- "Were you seriously thinking of fighting?" I asked, a little incredulously.

- "We have to consider all of the possibilities." said Lagakh.

- "And those are?"

Lagakh tilted her back, and looked down her nose at me. She may not have liked my tone. But she did answer me. "Fight, run, or hide. Or hope that they go away if we give them back their men, unharmed."

I liked that last option best. Unfortunately, we knew very little about this Varnan Duke. While the others talked, I mulled it over in my head.

Then an idea struck me. Ditgurat and the others didn't need my help if they intended to fight or run. But I'd thought of something I could do. I went back to Alatey and Gintar.

- "Tell me," I said, "what kind of man is this Duke?"

***

- "Let Smit talk." said Ditgurat.

- "If they let us talk." said Coopah. "I'm still not sure that this is a good idea."

- "If d'ey let Smit talk. You listen, and think - you're good at dat."

Lagakh had her doubts about my idea, but Ditgurat liked it. Shaghar had positively beamed when I suggested it. My idea, quite simply, boiled down to 'Let's talk to him'. Coopah, of course, felt that he ought to do the talking, but his daughter insisted that he concentrate on listening, and reading the Duke.

So that was why Ditgurat walked back to the Blasted Tree, with Coopah and I to either side of her. She carried a thin bundle, wrapped up tight in an old piece of leather.

The Varnans saw us coming from a long way away. We made no attempt to hide. Ditgurat was clearly recognizable as an orc, but she was accompanied by two humans - and none of us were armed.

Three soldiers waited for us, perhaps a hundred yards from the Blasted Tree. They wore leather jerkins, bracers, and sword belts. One wore a helmet, while another had mail guards on his shoulders. There were at least two dozen more men in sight, but they kept their distance - for now. The trio in our path were quite composed: they merely watched us as we approached to within ten yards of them. We stopped there.

- "What is your business?" asked the man in the centre.

- "We live here." I said. "We've come to see the Duke of Varna. This is Ditgurat, Chieftain of the Red Knee orcs."             

- "Aka' Magosh." she said.

- "What does that mean?" asked the man with the helmet.

- "It's a greeting." I said. "It means 'a blessing on you and yours'."

- "And on you and yours." said the man on the right. "I am Arivan Cunedda."

I'm sure that all three of us stared at him. He was of average height, dark-haired and thoroughly tanned from long exposure to the sun. His gear was plain and functional - and well-worn. His hair and beard were just a bit scruffy, and his eyebrows were quite bushy. But there was no mistaking the intelligence in his brown eyes.

- "We're here to talk." I said.

- "Oh? What would you like to talk about?"

- "Well ... we have two of your men. Gintar, the farmer, and Alatey, the scout - or spy. They are in good health. Meanwhile, you have occupied our home. Perhaps we could start there."

- "I suppose we could." said the Duke. "Where shall we talk?"

- "Under the tree?"

- "Agreed."

His two men kept a watchful eye on us, but we were unarmed, and surrounded by ten times our number of armed soldiers, all within calling distance. We sat on some of the band's own stools - tree stumps with designs carved into them.

- "Let me ask the first question." said Cunedda. "Are my men unhurt?"

I nodded. Coopah had expected this, and had coached me on what to say.

- "They are. When they were first captured, though ... ah - they were ... forced to have sex. This was difficult for Gintar, I believe. Alatey was ... less reluctant."

- "Is that so?"

- "Yes, my Lord Duke. He ah ... voluntarily repeated the experiment just the other night - with a second female of our band."

- "Really?" The Duke seemed mildly surprised. But I clearly saw him examine Ditgurat more closely. I knew exactly what he was doing: he was asking himself if he would have sex with her, given the opportunity. The answer, I guessed, was anything but a definite 'no'.

- "We are, of course, prepared to return your men to you." I said.

- "Are you, now?"

- "Yes."

- "And what do you expect in return?"

- "Chieftain Ditgurat hopes that you will return to your own lands, and leave us in peace. She would be happy, though, if you could agree to a mutually satisfactory border. We would prefer to live in peace."

- "Yet orcs have raided our lands several times."

I nodded again. Coopah had anticipated this sally as well.

- "True, Lord Duke. But two of those raids were carried out by former Chieftains, and the last one by renegades. Full orcs - whereas Ditgurat, as you may be able to see, is a half-orc."

- "Is that so?" Cunedda looked thoughtful, and appraised Ditgurat again.

- "In a sense, my Lord, you might say that the Red Knees are 'under new management'. The Chieftain does not believe in seeking conflict with any of our neighbours."

- "Hmm ... yet as we approached your Great Tree, we came across the corpses of near a dozen of your folk. One was headless. The site did not appear to be very ... peaceful."

Oh, shit. They'd found the bodies of Kurbag and his crew. Ditgurat had taken his head, to prove to the whole band that he was dead. After exhibiting the trophies of our victory, she'd eventually buried the stinking head in a pit.

- "That was ... a purely internal matter, Lord. It was an attempt to overthrow Ditgurat, without recourse to the traditional challenge. It was ... the last gasp of the Old Guard, if you will."

- "Traditional challenge?"

- "My Lord, I believe that it would be to the advantage of both sides if you knew more about the Red Knees and their history. With your permission, my friend Coopah here could tell you how he came to be here."

- "Coopah? As in 'cooper'? And what is your name, friend?" the Duke asked me.

- "Smit, sir."

- "As in 'smith'? Ha!" He gave Coopah a good, long look. "Very well - let's hear the tale."

It was Shaghar's idea, really, for me to begin negotiating, and then to have Coopah tell his story. Ditgurat had heartily endorsed the change of pace this represented.

Coopah might look like a harmless old duffer, with his white hair and his cloudy blue eyes, but he was as shrewd as they come. He also knew how to spin a tale. The Varnan Duke and his men listened attentively as Coopah described being captured on the coast, along with his friends Rogek and Gint, over forty years ago. He made no secret of the number of orcs they'd all had sex with.

- "Wait - the Chieftain? She's your daughter?" The Duke was stunned - but that didn't stop him from examining Ditgurat once again.

- "Yes, Duke." she said. "He is my father."

Coopah made a point of explaining that the Red Knees had been split between orcs and half-orcs, between die-hard traditionalists and those who perceived a new way forward. He told them of the challenges to Ditgurat's leadership, and the role played by Yotul, her sister - Shaghar's mother.

It was an engrossing story. I knew it well, yet still found myself listening to every last detail. Ditgurat was very much the heroine of the saga, and I noticed the Duke surreptitiously checking her out a fourth time.

- "And then," said Coopah, "Smit arrived."

That was my cue. I began to tell my story, from the shipwreck to the present day. I did not have Coopah's skill, but there was no need to weave a legendary tale - the truth was strange and compelling enough.

- "Wait!" said the Duke. "You were ... forced? Just as Gintar and Alatey were?"

- "Yes. You see, the ah ... female in question was Umog, one of the best warriors among the Red Knees. Ditgurat was facing a challenge from Kurbag and his group; she could not afford to alienate one of her most powerful supporters."

- "So she let this ... female have her way with you?"

- "It's more complicated than that, Lord. No doubt I've done a poor job of telling the story. Umog and I ... we're friends, now. She's pregnant with my child."

Arivan Cunedda could only shake his head.

- "Do I understand this correctly? You've been here a matter of mere months, and yet you are trusted enough to represent the orcs - to negotiate with me?"

- "I am their smith. Surely you saw my forge, and the bloomery." I said. "The chieftain's daughter and her niece are my lovers, and ..."

- "I carry Smit's child, too." said Ditgurat.

Her timing was exquisite. The Duke was already engrossed in our story - but also shocked and amazed. Quite simply, he didn't know what to make of everything we'd told him.

And yet ... Arivan Cunedda didn't seem quite as off-balance as I'd expected him to be, at this point. (It was some time later before I learned that he'd had extensive dealings with other non-humans, including the elves, and the fey folk of the north-west.

- "That is ... the most incredible story." he said.

He wasn't completely convinced, though. We had two more arrows in our quiver, so to speak, but I was loath to let them fly, when the outcome was still uncertain.

- "Lord," I said, "there is one more orcish expression that you should know about. It is 'Ur'gora'."

He frowned, and those furry eyebrows bristled. "Which means?"

- "'Not honour'. It was Snak, an eleven-year old, who taught me its meaning. Kurbag acted without honour, by attempting to murder Ditgurat's supporters, without challenging her directly. My Lord - 'Ur'gora' is the worst insult known to the orcs. And it is one that has never been levelled against Ditgurat herself."

The Duke mulled this over for several moments.

- "Would you go home, Smit, if you could? That lies well within my power."

- "No, Sir. I have been treated fairly. In fact, there are more people here who respect and love me than in all of Portoa. In the first week I was here, I considered running away several times - but I'm very glad now that I did not."

- "I see." Arivan Cunedda was a thoughtful man. He offered us food and drink - a hospitable gesture, but also one which allowed him more time to think. He stood up, and walked a few yards away.

Ditgurat glanced at me. I could tell that she was dying to ask me 'How is it going?'.

- "Bin Mog g'thazag cha." I whispered.

It was exactly what she'd said to me, months ago: I will protect you.

When he was ready, the Duke rejoined us. He wasn't smiling, and his body language wasn't very encouraging, either.

- "Is there anything else you wish to say?" he asked.

- "Yes." I nodded to Ditgurat. She stood up, and presented her narrow bundle to Cunedda.

- "What is this?" he asked, even as he began unwrapping the leather. I let him finish uncovering the object inside: it was the cutlass I'd recovered from the sea and given to Ditgurat.

- "A gift, Lord. But also a token, to prove that we've been able to salvage items from the wreck of the Pelican."

- "Ah?"

- "You may have noticed the stacked ingots, and the iron pigs in the forge. They all came from the ship. I realize that while it is a significant amount of iron for the Red Knees, it is not so important for you. But there were other items aboard the Pelican which might interest you more."

- "Such as ...?"

- "Cannon, Lord Duke."

That got his attention. Galtin's Port made fantastic weapons - which could be had for exorbitant prices. Portoa, too, knew how to cast guns. But I suspected that the Duke did not have a gunsmith who could cast cannon. Even if he did, he would be unlikely to ignore an opportunity to acquire new guns.

- "Go on."

- "The Pelican carried four cannon. I have found two of them already, in shallow water. I should be able to locate the other two, as well. I can easily dive to where the first two lie, and attach ropes, or whatever gear you recommend. If you were to bring a few boats from Whydah ..."

Whydah was the Varnan seaport on the north coast. We'd passed by it, just before the Pelican had ended her career by running aground, killing all of her passengers except me. Coopah and I were the only humans who knew of it - until now. I'd just shared a very valuable secret with the Duke.

Of course, he could always send his own boats and divers to search around the wreck. Ultimately, I was basing this offer on the assumption that he was an honourable man. I'd been encouraged by his reaction to my translation of the orcish phrase 'Ur'gora'.

If he was more ruthless or more greedy than he was honourable, I'd just sacrificed a precious commodity for nothing.

- "You can't just give them away!" Coopah had protested, when I first raised the subject.

- "They are powerful weapons, are they not?" said Lagakh.

- "Not for us." I said. "We don't know the secret of making black power. The guns are also too heavy to move. They are far more valuable to someone else than they are to us."

The Duke of Varna inclined his head slowly, several times. His eyes never left mine.

- "That is ... a very interesting offer." he said. Now he looked at Ditgurat. "Do I understand correctly: cannon, in return for leaving you your lands?"

She turned to me, and nodded.

- "There is one more thing, Lord." I said. "If we were friends, or even ... allies, there could one more benefit for Varna: half-orc warriors."

I'd finally managed to surprise the man, just a little.

- "I don't understand." he said. "Mercenaries?"

Ditgurat had made me rehearse this point multiple times. "It could be as you prefer, Lord. Mercenaries, or even a treaty obligation. In return for your protection, and recognition of the Red Knees' title to their lands, the Chieftain would send you a number of warriors, to serve as auxiliaries in your army."

He was intrigued.

"Of course," I continued, "we are not so numerous just now. The initial force would have to be quite small. Perhaps ... ten fighters? But if the experiment should prove to be successful, and the numbers in our band were to rise ... the force at your disposal could be increased ..." I deliberately let that last line hang, to see how he would take it.

Arivan Cunedda had a decision to make: he could search for the guns himself, and he could pursue and harry the Red Knees, and even try to destroy us. That would cost Varnan lives (Alatey and Gintar, immediately, and possibly many more in the near future). Should he fail to exterminate us, he would be left with a small but angry and vengeful remnant of our people on his border.

Again, I only learned later on that the Duke had made a point of maintaining good relations with the elven and fey peoples. Slaughtering a small band of half-orcs might have damaged his reputation with his non-human neighbours.

We could help him recover the guns. And even a small contingent of half-orcs warriors would impress his own people. They might even prove more valuable in the future. What if the Duke's successors could call on fifty or a hundred half-orc fighters?

We were not asking for much. Forgiveness for past raids - which had not been Ditgurat's doing at all. Recognition. Peace. None of those would cost the Duke a single copper coin. He had something to gain - but would he see it as we did?

- "You have given me a great deal to think about." he said. "Could we meet again tomorrow? I would prefer to have time for reflection before I make a decision."

- "I agree." said Ditgurat. "Tomorrow."

- "Oh." I said. "One more thing: we want an anvil."

***

Back among our folk, we had to repeat, as best we could, every word that had passed between us and the Varnan Duke, for the benefit of Ditgurat's council. Lagakh and Shaghar were there, of course, along with Umog and Ghorza. Shelur, Lambug, and Ogash (her transgression forgiven, if not forgotten), Urzoth, and Bula.

Bula had an interesting detail to add to our deliberations.