The Journey

The other man laughed softly and shook his head. "No, of course not. But even she, with her limited mind is not so foolish as to have her assassins make their play so close to the capital. I don't think we'll have to worry until after midday tomorrow."

And on the day went and the two men contented themselves with riding in silence. They made good time and set camp after sun down and rose at first light the next morning. It was early afternoon, about an hour after they'd passed through the village of Bywater when the attack came.

"You notice them yet, Jared?" Jaspar leaned over and whispered to the Prince, taking care to shield the younger man from the side.

"Sure. Two hiding in the corn field to our left, and one archer in the treeline. And at least four, I'd imagine, hiding under the bridge," Jared said and discreetly took an arrow from the quiver strapped to the side of the saddle. "Pretty standard."

"Good eye. And, yes, I agree with you about the bridge. Do you think you can take out the archer, if I jump down and rush into the field?"

Jared nodded. "Yes, I know exactly where he is and he's not doing a very good job of staying behind cover." Jared pulled back the bow. "Go. NOW!"

At the Prince's exclamation, the Shadow dropped from the saddle and with lightening speed, he raced into the field to take care of the two that lay in wait. As soon as Jaspar was clear, Jared brought the bow to bear, released an arrow and grinned in satisfaction as he saw the archer fall.

The Prince, knowing his companion would be fine, urged Mist into a full gallop and a few yards away from the bridge, he vaulted out of the saddle and drew his knives, before meeting the enemy as the group came rushing from beneath it.

Jared ducked under the swipe of the first assassin and raked one of his knives across the man's abdomen and the man fell with an agonized howl. Another tried and was pierced through the throat, and the third went down when a knife lodged itself in his heart. The fourth attacker seemed to rethink his involvement and started running away, only to be intercepted by Jaspar and that was it for him. The battle had taken less than ten minutes.

"Are you alright, my Prince?"

"I'm fine, Jaspar. You?"

The man grinned and wiped down his weapon. "Never better."

"That's actually a little disturbing, Jas."

"Well, what can I say," came the reply. "It's what I do, after all."

"Yes, well, let's hope we won't have to do much of it for the rest of the trip, shall we?"

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Unfortunately, Jared was not granted his wish. The pair of them were forced to fight of a number outlaw bands and highwaymen, and two more assassination attempts, both more capable than the first one. Jared got injured in the last one, which delayed their travels for a week, despite his insistence that he was fine and that they should press on. Jaspar would not be budged, however and they rested at a small village until the Shadow deemed the prince fit for travel.

One day, when they were about a week out of Crossroad Keep, Jared realized he'd not once asked Jackson whether he'd ever heard of the woman Kurgan expected the Orc Queen had sent to escort him to Stormhold.

"Say, Jas. Have you ever heard of Za'ira?"

Jaspar turned his head and regarded his friend with a curious expression. "Yes, I have. Why do you ask?"

"Kurgan seems to think Queen T'alis sent her to take over for you, once we reach the Keep."

Jaspar ran a hand through his hair and actually smiled a little. "Well, that's a relief."

"Oh?"

"She was the best warrior they had, Jared. She gave me this. Though, she didn't escape unscathed herself," the older man said and leaned over to show his friend a rather ghastly scar, on the side of his neck.

Jared stared at the other man. "You seem awfully chipper when talking about someone who almost killed you."

Jaspar laughed at that. "Well, how am I supposed to act? I don't bear any ill will toward her. She was just a soldier protecting her home and fighting a war instigated by your grandfather. It wasn't anything personal and I doubt she feels any different."

"What does she look like? You know, so that we can find her?"

Jaspar shook his head. "No idea."

"What? You said you fought her."

"Don't be foolish," Jaspar chided the younger man. "Yes, I fought her, but that was over twenty years ago, Jared. Back then, she had a mohawk, dyed in indigo and a bunch of piercings all over. I highly doubt she looks like that now. I'm very certain she has risen through the ranks and even the orcs, brutish as they may be, have a very strict code of conduct when it comes to those who work at the top of their government."

Jared sighed in defeat and shrugged his shoulders. "Alright, then."

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The travelling pair stopped their horses at the staple outside the gates of Crossroad Keep, and the staple hand took the reins of both horses to lead them inside. Before they could approach the gate, a page came sprinting toward them with a sealed letter in his hands. Jared recognised the seal of the King.

"A letter for you, Sir. It arrived three days ago."

Jaspar nodded and handed the boy a single copper. The boy saluted them both and returned to the Keep. The Shadow opened the letter, read the contents and frowned as he tucked it into his cloak.

"Well, the good news is that you've been instructed to make your way to the Gilded Crown in the upper Keep and that Za'ira will indeed be waiting there for you."

Jared's eyebrow twitched annoyingly. "So, I take it there's bad news?"

Jaspar became grave. "Quite. There's been some disturbance on our eastern border, a two week journey from here. Apparently, some elves have gone missing and all evidence points to Men kidnapping them. The King has ordered me to make my way there at once to learn what I can and deal with it, if possible." The Shadow called for a fresh horse, which was brought forth immediately. He climbed into the saddle, before he clasped his friend on the shoulder.

"You'll be fine, Jared. Stay vigilant and strong and I'll see you here in a year." And with that, he turned the horse sharply and tore off at a full gallop.

Jared turned around and stared at the gates for a while, chewing his lip. Oh, well there was nothing for it, and he started up the path with a steady step. He went through the gates and was greeted with the very dreary interior of the keep. Gray stone everywhere, square houses... Uninteresting, to say the least. The young Half-Elf could not imagine living there, but to each their own. Then again, this place would look very different once the trade agreement was finalized.

Walking around the streets, he found that the keep was inhabited by all races, as he had been told. He saw quite a few elves, many orcs and humans, of course. He had to sigh unhappily, however, because the glares where just as bad here as they where back home. Somehow, he'd thought a multi cultural place such as this would be more tolerant, but it seemed not to be. Was there no place on the Continent where he'd be free of them? Accepted for who he was?

After two hours or so of exploring, he found the Gilded Crown in an area that seemed a little better off than the rest of the Keep. The walls had paint on them, at least. Jared entered the inn, which was fairly crowded, given it was only early afternoon. He made his way over the the counter, but before he could say a single thing, the bald, fat barkeep, who looked a bit like a bulldog, slammed his palm down and glared at the young man.

"We don't serve your kind here, freak. I suggest you make yourself scarce, before someone does it for you," the man growled.

Jared raised an eyebrow, but ignored the outburst. "Actually, I'm just here..."

"Boys!" the Bulldog barked and two men at the counter each took a hold on a shoulder of the young man. Jared rolled his eyes and in a flash, he had both men down on one knee, their wrists bent at an awkward angle.

"Are we going to have a problem? I'm just here to meet someone and once I've met her, I'll be on my way."

A roar alerted Jared to another attacker, who was approaching from behind, a chair held in his hands, ready to be brought down on the young prince's head. The young man quickly let go of his earlier victims and quick as a flash, he elbowed the man in the throat just hard enough to make it hard to breathe. And the so battle was on...

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Za'ira took a long drink from her tankard, and shot another glance at the big clock mounted on the wall above the counter. She was wondering how much longer she'd have to wait for her charge in this cesspool of a... place. Those bastards were late! She'd been here for over a week already.

She glanced down into the tankard and snorted. At least they had proper orcish mead and it was actually very good, she was forced to admit. Too bad she couldn't get drunk. It would have made her stay a little more tolerable. A commotion downstairs caused her to rise from her chair and make her way to the railing to see what was going on.

A Half-Elf had a pair of humans down on one knee as he held them by their index fingers. So he was here to meet with a woman? Could this be Prince Jared? A man came charging from behind and the newcomer dealt with him handily and the fight was on.

Za'ira leaned lazily on the railing and enjoyed the show, which was extremely entertaining. The Half-Elf was dancing around with graceful movements, fluid and fast. He was using a fighting style favoured by the elves, which emphasized using the momentum of your enemies against them to throw them or if you were forced to punch them, to do so at the opportune moment, for maximum effect.

The heel of a hand slamming into the nose of someone coming at you at full speed could do a lot of damage. Oh and the style also had techniques to dislocate joints, which was extremely effective. By now, the young man had cleaned the floor and every assailant lay incapacitated on the floor. The rest had fled.

Za'ira was impressed. For a little guy, he sure could dish out a lot of punishment. She bit her lip hard, and forced down her arousal. He was a foreign dignitary and it would not do for her to give in to her urges and take him.

She grabbed her cloak, greatsword and pack, before vaulting over the railing to drop onto the floor, using the body of an unconscious man to break her fall. She clapped her hands slowly and grinned at the young man as he spun around, ready to take on yet another attacker.

"Well done, Prince. Well done indeed."

Jared was struck speechless. She was his escort? She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his short life, despite clearly being much older than him, heavily muscled and very tall. But despite her muscles being a somewhat large for a woman, she wasn't bulky, boxy and ungainly like Kurgan. No, she was more like a... lioness. Graceful, sleek and powerful.

First, he found her almond shaped eyes, which were a mesmerizing amber colour that seemed to glow in the gleam from the fireplace. He thought they matched her lightly green skin perfectly. Her pointy ears led him to her high cheek bones and a surprisingly delicate jaw that jutted forward a tiny bit and from her lovely, plush lips, he could see a pair of tusks rise about half an inch out of her mouth, which drew his attention to her delicate nose. Her jet-black hair was shaved on the sides and done in a braid that reached her buttocks, and he found himself wondering just how long it had to be when she allowed it to flow free.

She was wearing a fur lined leather armour, that left part of her midriff bare, showcasing her rock hard abs, but Jared was hard pushed not to drool at the sight of her large breasts, which were covered quite well by the armour.

It did amazing things to her cleavage, which he could see through the laces. His eyes went lower still and found she was wearing a heavy, fur lined hide loin cloth that was actually more of a skirt that reached about midway down her powerful thighs and lastly, she wore a pair of fur lined leather boots that looked well worn and extremely comfortable.

A finger under his chin, raising his head startled him out of his reverie and he found himself staring into her amazing eyes. She was looking down on him, an amused glint in those amber eyes, complete with a mischievous, yet knowing smile.

"You can stare all you want, Kishi, and I know you will, but I suggest we depart quickly, before the Watch arrives. I don't think we'll be leaving this charming place today if we linger too long."

Jared shook his head. And smiled apologetically at Za'ira, who simply smiled at him once more. "Let's go through the back. I know a shortcut to the back gate. If we hurry, we'll be out of reach, before they realize we've gone."

Jared nodded and grabbed his pack and rushed out after her. She moved fast and it was obvious she knew exactly where she was going and less than a quarter hour after leaving the inn, they were outside the gates and heading into the wilderness.

"Come, Prince. I wish to reach the other side of the Pass by nightfall. We'll make camp there. The Watch cannot do anything once we're in orc territory."

"Alright, lead on, then," Jared said and was rewarded with a smile and a nod.

They did not speak more that first day. Instead, they focused on saving their energy to be able to maintain speed up the valley that led to the Pass. Once they reached the crest, Jared stopped for a moment, and turned to gaze back at the Kingdom. A year, at least, until he'd see his home again.

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They rose at first light, and quickly broke camp to set out into the day. What lay in store was a trek across an ancient lava field, along a rough path, which wound its way through the moss. Za'ira set a strong pace, but so far, Jared had not had any trouble keeping up.

It seemed the orc woman knew how to pace herself for those shorter than her. After two hours of walking, his guide slowed down a little and allowed her charge to walk beside her. She gave him a sidelong glance which prompted Jared to ask what the matter was.

Za'ira shrugged her shoulders. "You're not what I expected, Prince Jared."

Her companion's eyebrows rose at that admission. "Oh? And what were you expecting?"

Za'ira snorted at him and grinned impishly. "A snot nosed brat, who I would have to babysit like a newborn, if I was to have any chance at bringing him safely to Stormhold."

Jared chuckled at that and gave her a grin. "That's what you would've had if either of my two brothers had been sent here, instead of me. And for the record, I can't say you're what I thought, either."

Za'ira tilted her head at him. "How so?"

"Well, you don't have an indigo coloured mohawk or a bunch of piercings. Seems you took them all out."

"Someone told you about that, did they?" Her eyes became wistful. "Aaah. Good times. Oh, and just so you know, I still have a pair of piercings," she said with a mischievous grin.

"Where? I don't see them?" Jared asked as he studied her beautiful face.

Za'ira waved a finger at him. "Now, that would be telling, wouldn't it?" she said and gave him a wink.

"Oh... Oh!" Jared turned a beet red at the implication.

The orc woman let out a surprisingly lovely, velvety laugh that was irresistible to Jared and he started snickering, which became a kind of a laugh, and eventually turned into a bellow.

"Oh, thank you, Prince! It's been a while since I've had such a good laugh," Za'ira said and looked down at her companion with a twinkle in her eye.

"Likewise. By the way, could you please do away with that Prince crap? There's just the two of us here and I'm not really a fan of titles and such. In fact, I can't stand the fucking court or the castle, really. I much preferred to spend my time out in the forests with Groundkeeper Duncan or with Kurgan, in the stables."

"You know Kurgan?" Za'ira asked in surprise.

"Sure. He's one of my best friends. He taught me all I know about animals and how to build a saddle and a few other things. He was one of very few who didn't see me as something more filthy than the mud under their boots."

Za'ira suppressed a sigh. Of course his life had not been an easy one. Even all the way up here, in the Hinterlands, had they heard of the Half-Elf bastard son of King Marcin and Half-Breeds were treated the same everywhere. She felt a little happy with herself, seeing how she held no such prejudices. It would be rather hypocritical of her, considering her own secret.

Putting that aside, she felt her opinion of the Prince take a sudden leap at the revelation that he was friends with her Great Uncle Kurgan. How exceptionally interesting. Very few ever managed to pierce that old orc's hide, and those who did were always worth knowing, in her experience.

"How do you know Kurgan?" Jared asked with a curious expression.

"He's my Great Uncle."

Jared nodded and was about to say something, when suddenly Za'ira stopped and motioned for him to crouch low and an arrow sailed above their heads, coming from up the path.

"Shit!" Jared swore as he and his orc guide scrambled behind a rock formation on the side of the path.

"You have a bow?" Jared asked Za'ira, who shook her head.

"I don't use them," she said and produced a sling from somewhere. "I use rocks, instead."

"Well, whatever works, I guess," the prince said, but had to gape at the size of the rock the orc put into the sling. It wasn't a rock. A boulder might've been a better word for it.

"Cover me!" Za'ira shouted and rose from behind the rock, forcing the prince to curse at her recklessness and step out of cover and fire an arrow that hit one of the assailants in the thigh. That same person's head was then crushed by the rock Za'ira sent flying. That caused a bit of a panic in the attackers, who started firing arrows wildly.

"Who's trying to kill you?" Za'ira asked in confusion.

"Me? Who says they're trying to kill me? Jared said in feigned ignorance.

"I am well known in the Hinterlands, and only the most insane of fools would ever try and kill the sister of the Queen," Za'ira said firmly.

Jared sighed. "I never did tell you why I was so late, did I?"

The orc nailed him with a stern look and he became a little sheepish. "We had to fight off several assassination attempts and I got a little injured one time."

"You've got assassins on your tail? Why?" the green skinned woman asked in an annoyed tone, before both she and Jared noticed a slight lull in the hail of arrows. The pair peeked out from cover and while Jared was unable to let loose an arrow, Za'ira decided not to use her sling and simply threw a stone, catching one of their enemies in the head. Needless to say, the enemy fell dead to the ground.

"Well?"

Jared sighed, and gave her a flat look. "I'm the Half-Elven bastard son of the King, his oldest son and the step brother of two younger brothers, he had with his wife."

An understanding dawned on her face and she gave him a look that was part pity, part sadness and then a whole lot of anger, not aimed at him, Jared noticed with relief. "And I suppose the attempts on this trip aren't the first time this has happened?" she growled.

Jared pulled back the bow and quickly sidestepped and let fly, catching one of the attackers in the chest. "No. I've dealt with a few. Jaspar usually takes care of them even before they happen."

"And your father lets this go on?" she asked incredulously, then leaned out and nailed a guy with another rock.

"What is he supposed to do? The Queen probably goes through so many different channels with her requests that it's impossible to trace it back to her. And besides, there could be any number of people who would want me dead. Hell, half of the attempts probably come at the behest of the Counsil. A Half-Breed prince? Scandalous!"