Twisted Fate (Orc Destiny Volume I) (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (14 page)

“No. Giants die. Orc kill. Orc no need gold.”

“Very well, Gnak, I will send soldiers to collect it. Now
take your giant and return to your home. May you one day become the king of
your people so that I may visit you.”

“You welcome, my home,” Gnak replied, and turning he stalked
out of the king’s home to retrieve his giant.

It was both a gruesome and daunting sight, the giant that
the goblins had captured for him. Standing upright it looked like something out
of a nightmare. Though in reality it had been inspired by a goblin toy. Atop
its head the iron crown sat, and from the rings upon the crown great chains had
been attached in bundles, stretching down each side where they then attached to
the bands on the giant’s upper pair of arms, keeping them straight out to the
sides. Between the giant’s upper arms and lower arms, more chains spanned the
gap, securing the pair of arms on each side of the giant together. From the
bottom of the lower arms more chains were attached, stretching down to the
giant’s legs which were similarly bound together with chains. With its legs
straight and its four massive arms out to the sides, the chains between them
all made the giant appear as a huge spider’s web. But that was only the
beginning of the goblins’ work.

All down the giant’s back great iron rings were pierced
through flesh and meat all down its spine. But the rings were only a pathway
for a higher evil. Through the rings many cables of tightly woven fibers were
run, using the rings like pulleys. Various sharp hooks and barbs had been
placed throughout the giant’s body and into his flesh to prevent him from
sudden movements. Twisting his torso to one side pulled on hooks pierced
through his stomach and the other direction did the same on the opposite side. Bending
over drove hooks deeper into its flesh on its neck and thighs. Swinging its
arms forward pulled upon the rings in its spine themselves, and swinging them
back pulled on hooks dug into the flesh of his chest and ribs. Although the
giant was standing, it was basically immobile, able only to walk without
causing severe and painful injury to itself. Rounding the giant, Gnak used the
bands and rings up its leg and then up its spine to climb up and into the
crown. For a sand giant the brute was massive, easily thirty feet tall, but
even so, Gnak found the crown a bit confining for his liking. Greeting the
goblin at the controls with a grunt, he watched as the goblin pulled a lever
secured to the inside of the crown. The giant cried out in pain and lurched
forward carefully. The goblin pulled a second lever and Gnak looked over the
rim of the crown to see where the attached cable being pulled secured to an
iron hook in the corner of the giant’s eye socket. The giant turned its head to
relieve the pain, and in doing so it gradually turned as it walked. Releasing
that lever and pulling another the giant turned the opposite direction. Finally
the goblin released the very first lever he had pulled and the giant froze in
his tracks. It was fairly simple really. Forward. Left. Right.

Nodding his approval to the goblin, he waited as the smaller
man climbed out and down the giant.
Now
he could think about saving Jen.
With a deep breath he pulled the lever that would make the giant move. He
didn’t even want to know where the goblins had placed hooks in the giant’s
flesh to achieve this reaction. Slowly the giant stepped forward, its bound
legs limiting its stride. Even so, at a giant’s height they covered ground
quickly, which was good. Gnak wanted to arrive at sunset.

The sand blew wistfully over the dunes as the sun fell lower
and lower towards the world below. A sand dervish twisted up into the air,
whipping up the sand as it moved sporadically before vanishing without a trace.
Already the moons were in the sky, though no stars had yet appeared. Gnak was
now in land he was familiar with, land that belonged to his clan. Removing his
helm, he knew it would be only minutes more before he could see his camp ahead,
and they would begin to see him as well.

As the camp came into sight he watched intently across the
miles, every step of the giant closing the gap between them. Closer and closer
they came, the giant’s footsteps absorbed by the sand beneath it. Another mile
passed and the camp’s details began to become revealed. So far as he could
tell, nothing had changed. His clan members rushed out to meet him only a few
giant steps later, each of them armed, thinking their camp in danger. Out they
ran with spears and swords raised until they saw him atop the monster’s head. Even
Korx had come, and Gnak was happy to see the look on his face when he realized
what it was he was seeing.

Realizing that they were not under attack, they cheered
Gnak’s return and loped along beside his enormous mount, back to the village. Once
he felt the giant was at a safe distance he released the lever that made the
thing move, and it stopped quickly in an attempt to avoid further pain. Picking
up a length of coiled cable within the crown, Gnak tied it around all three of
the levers and tossed the coil over the side, watching as it unraveled. Climbing
down after it, he pointed to a young Orc, not yet old enough for Catunga, and
motioned the boy over. Handing the boy the cable, he gave his instructions.

“Hold him here. I go camp. You stay, keep giant king here.”

The young Orc nodded, happy for the honor of guarding the
king of the giants. Gnak, approaching the camp, saw all the sacrifices lined up
outside its meager wall. Each of them was attached to a stake by a crude leather
collar and chain. There were animals, goblins, a tall stag, and the pair of
humans as well. Though he tried to avoid it, his eyes sought out Jen and
lingered there a long moment. She was filthy, covered in dirt and dried blood. She
had been beaten and abused, forced to heal herself as proof of her magic. And
she was skinny, too skinny. She was not being fed. Her condition angered him and
he clenched his jaw, trying to play his role. Seeing him approach, tears
streamed down her face but he could show her no sign. Not now.

Instead he strode past the line of sacrifices and into the
camp where the shaman awaited him.

“Gnak, you last come. Some say you not come. You do come. Bring
great sacrifice. But Catunga no done. Need give gods blood. Need spill own,” said
the Shaman.

“Catunga now?” Gnak asked, hoping once again to buy more
time.

“Catunga this night. Moons top sky. Go rest. Eat.”

Gnak grunted his understanding as he turned and strode
towards his tent. Crossing the camp quickly he threw back the flaps and stormed
inside. It would be several hours before the ceremony, but he could not stand
to wait that long. Yet at the same time he wished he could put the ceremony off
longer still, and find a way to rescue Jen. He sifted through various plans and
scenarios but none of them would work. And then he realized the error in his
thinking. Jen saw it, but he had missed it. His understanding of such things so
fresh and new he had overlooked it all along.

She had saved his life understanding that he was taking her
from her home, probably to kill her. She was not afraid of dying. She knew
there was a god in the heavens that waited for her. No, she was afraid of dying
alone. That is why she cried. She knew that someone who cared for her would be
there when she died. Her tears had been happy. She believed in her god so
strongly that Gnak finally saw Jen’s purpose. He thought about it a long time
but could not believe it was true. Hours passed and still he debated. There was
only one way to find the answer for certain. Rising, he strode back out of his
tent.

Crossing the camp, he could not understand the kind of trust
Jen had. The trust she had in the gods was far greater than what he and the
goblin king had shared. Her trust was blind. She did not know what she was
doing. Did she? Could a child so young know more about the gods than he? She
certainly understood everything else better. Maybe she was right to trust her
god. Maybe her
one
mistake had been trusting
him
.

Crossing the camp, he looked up at the moons directly above.
Time was running out. Speeding his pace he crossed the camp, weaving in between
tents, ignoring the calls of praise and proud words of his clan members. Leaping
the small dried mud wall of the camp, he walked directly to her and knelt to
the ground to look her in the eyes.

“Korx kill you soon.”

“I know, Gnak, it’s OK.”

“Not OK. All life precious,” he repeated her words back to
her.

“Yes, Gnak, but you
can
kill to survive. Some lives
have
to end for others to continue.”

“Not this way. My fault.”

“I will die, but you will survive, Gnak. It is the will of
my god. I forgive you.”

“You forgive. I no forgive. No ever forgive.”

“Just remember me, Gnak, and I will always be with you.”

“Gahh!” he shouted, clenching his fists. “You no die alone. I
watch. It hurt, but I watch.”

“Thank you, Gnak. Now go before they see.”

Rising, he wiped the tears from her cheek. “Be strong. Die
proud.”

“I will. I promise.”

Gnak strode away and turning, he leapt back over the short
wall and into the camp. He did not know if anyone had seen his conversation. He
did not care. He had needed it. She had needed it. He owed it to her. Taking
deep breaths, the Orcish warrior worked to calm himself. Orc life was all
tension, he reminded himself. He needed to think ahead, and focus on what was
important. Then the drums began.

Roaring to release his anger, he turned again towards the
camp’s center as his clan began to gather.

“Catunga done soon. Elders choose Korx. Elders choose Gnak. All
spill blood for gods. Korx and Gnak shed own blood.” The shaman stated the
terms of the ritual.

A great fire blazed in the center of their camp, its flames
fanning high into the sky, making immense beasts of the Orcs’ shadows. Embers
and ash rained down everywhere, making red glowing eyes in the sand. The
crackle of the fire was constant and random at the same time, punctuated by
hisses and pops that would have caused lesser races of men to become startled. Tensions
were high, just as they were before a battle, for tonight many would die.

Following the procession of those that belonged to his clan,
he stood and watched as more than thirty Orcs in Catunga lined up along with
their sacrifices. Each of them carried a spear. Because his sacrifice was
deemed the best, and because it was not with the others, he would have to
perform his kill separately. The drums beat louder and faster.

With a rhythm beating like a great heart, the deep
resounding drums carried on and on, over even the sounds of the fire. Red,
orange, and yellow light cast a strange ambiance across the gathering,
appearing to make the Orcs move and sway when in fact they stood still. Gnak
shook his head, a shiver running down his spine. It was time to focus.

Looking to Jen, he watched as her face scanned the crowd,
seeking him out, and their eyes met. Locking his gaze with hers, he could see
that she fought her tears. He refused to blink as the drums grew faster and
faster still, their thrumming becoming almost deafening. He held her eyes with
his own and knew that Korx watched him even without looking. Then the drums
stopped.

Jen sat upon the ground on her knees leaning forward, facing
him, when the spear entered her back. A great chorus of screams arose, mostly
that of beasts and goblins, but not Jen. Though her mouth opened and blood
spurted from it, she did not scream when it tore through her insides and out
her chest again to drive into the ground between her legs. She had been tough,
and held her scream of pain inside, just as she promised. Now it was his turn
to hold in the scream. Breathing rapidly, every muscle in his body tight,
prepared to spring and put down Jen’s killer. He needed to release it. Needed to
let go. But he held it in. Let it fuel him.

The drums started again as Gnak strode away from the camp,
his entire clan following to witness how he would slay the giant king. Approaching
the huge beast, he accepted the cord from the boy he had placed as guard and
turned to face those that saw honor and pride in his actions. Sneering at them,
Gnak yanked the cord.

Without the ability to turn its head to relieve the pressure
created by the pulled levers in its crown, as the hooks in both corners of its
eyes were torn in opposite directions, the giant screamed in pain as its eye
socket tore. As a natural reflex it attempted to jerk all four hands up towards
its eye to protect it, but the result was devastating. Tearing chunks of its
own flesh from its back along its spine, the huge iron rings there ripped free.
Realizing its error too late, the giant flung its arms backwards, tearing more
flesh from its chest, abdomen, and thighs. Blood vessels were torn asunder at
every injury as blood began to pour from the numerous wounds. Unable to react
in any logical way, the giant spasmed several times, probably in shock, tearing
yet more hooks and rings from its flesh before it finally toppled over and
crashed to the ground in a symphony of clanks and clangs, its screams rising as
a great cloud of dust and sand rose into the air. The giant’s screaming and
thrashing went on and on and on. Gnak didn’t move to end it. The Orcs just
watched as he stood, letting the giant bleed to death slowly, its screams, a wretched,
booming sound, drowning out all others. His clan did not react, did not make a
single sound. But Gnak did.

Roaring in anger, he pulled the swords free from his back
and charged Korx, his heart seeking revenge. Slashing and jabbing, Gnak
attacked as his opponent fended him off with his own pair of crude blades. Their
clan gathered around them, suddenly cheering and cajoling, though he did not
hear their words, only hers. Thrusting forward, he watched as Korx twisted
aside, barely escaping his strike before launching one in return. He did not
even try to block it, instead letting it glance off his armor as he struck out
again.