Twisted Fate (Orc Destiny Volume I) (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (16 page)

Pulling her securely to his chest he stood, and lowering his
head to her hair he spoke to the small girl in his arms.

“I fix, Jen. See shaman.
He
heal. He no heal, we go
humans. Humans heal. I take home. I fix. I promise.”

Eventually her sobs stopped, and he looked out upon all the
faces staring back at him. Finally the Orcs showed emotion. Some looked at them
with fear. Others stared in confusion or disbelief and others in horror. Some
were proud, excited, and a few even shared in their sorrowful reunion, the
corners of their eyes moist with either sadness or happiness. Gnak could not
tell.

Grasping the back of the collar that still bound her to a
stake in the ground, he tore the leather bindings and let it fall to the sand
below. Turning, the Orcs parted before him as he carried her into their camp,
striding straight to the shaman’s tent.

It was near an hour before the shaman arrived. He had been
in the crowd they had left behind, and apparently needed some time to get his
own thoughts together before he returned. When he did, he entered his tent
deliberately and sat down upon his knees opposite Gnak and Jen.

Gnak looked at his somber face, Jen in his lap leaning back
against his chest. She had not spoken, at least not yet, and he wondered what
led her to silence. He would ask her but he knew that she needed her wounds
treated first. So together they watched the shaman sit and regard them for
several moments before he spoke.

“Gnak. Some Orc say you talk god. Some Orc say no talk god. What
say Gnak?”

Gnak considered the question, realizing the shaman’s delay
in returning to his home. There had been a discussion about Jen and him, some
of the Orcs skeptical of what they had seen.

“Gnak talk god. Make deal.”

“So say me to them… God no Orc god yes?”

“God human god. Orc god. All god.”

“God name Ishanya?”

“Yes,” Gnak confirmed.

Gnak watched as the shaman pondered his words for many long
moments before he began collecting herbs and clay jars of substances with
healing properties, and began to mix them in a bowl. Crushing the ingredients
together with a large bone, the shaman stirred and mixed, all the while looking
from Gnak to Jen and back again.

“Why god deal you?” the shaman asked after a long silence.

“Not know. Kill giant king?” he guessed.

To be honest, he had no idea why the goddess had answered
his plea. He assumed it was like the goblin king and him. He needed help, and
had offered something in return, and a deal was struck. He had made a friend of
the goblin king, and hoped his relationship with the goddess would be much the
same.

The shaman then added some water to the concoction and,
stirring it again, created a thick paste. Though she was shy, as she was just
starting to become a woman, the shaman had Jen remove her shirt and packed the
concoction into the wounds upon both her chest and back, binding it in place
with a long strip of cloth before allowing her to again adorn her clothing.

“Leave cloth, many day. Big wound. Heal slow, if heal,” the
shaman instructed.

The doubt was evident in the shaman’s voice, but Gnak had
seen a miracle already this day and as such had no fears of the wound not
healing.

Grunting his understanding of the instructions, Gnak began
to rise, carefully helping Jen do the same. Then, looking down to her he spoke,
just as much to her as to the shaman.

“This night Gnak captain of tribe. Have Orcs. Make command. No
this night. No. We go eat. We rest. Orcs think this night. We see next night, Orcs
think Gnak.”

“OK, Gnak,” Jen replied. “I
am
tired,” she added,
turning back to the shaman.

“Thank you for your help,” she told the Orc, to a replied
grunt.

Together Gnak and Jen crossed the camp, her following his
lead as he first approached the cooking fires. Orcs of all ages watched them
pass, some pointing or speaking to those nearest to them, but none spoke to
Gnak or Jen. Instead they watched as he cut the small human girl several strips
of roasted meat and hacked a large slab for himself as well. Collecting a large
clay bowl of water as he left, Gnak led Jen back to his tent, where they
settled on the floor facing one another and began eating.

They ate in silence as they had the first time they shared a
meal, and just like then, Jen looked to him an odd expression on her face. He
knew she was about to ask him a question.

“How did you make a deal with Ishanya?”

“Gnak mad. Chest hurt. Yell loud. God hear.”

“I’m glad you brought me back, Gnak. I wasn’t afraid to die,
and I’m still not, but I
would
like to grow up first.”

“Is good. Grow up. Gnak think good you back.”

“Me too, Gnak.
Meee
too,” she said nodding her head
enthusiastically.

They ate the rest of their meal in silence before preparing
to get some sleep. Both were exhausted, and as such they curled up facing each other
across the tent, each of them upon a soft pile of furs. Gnak listened to the
wheezing sound in her chest as he drifted off, hoping that in the days to come
it would diminish. The sound frightened him.

The following day came and went, with little to no activity.
Night fell around the Orc camp and the Orcs finally climbed out of their tents,
many preparing for a hunt as if nothing had happened. Some delayed, watching
nonchalantly as Gnak and Jen exited his tent, but they ignored the looks from those
who lingered out of curiosity. Jen seemed in good spirits, though she appeared
even paler than the day before. Gone was the gauntness of her skin, as her body
absorbed the nutrients she sorely needed after being starved and beaten. Happy
she was recovering, he decided to show her his home.

Guiding the human girl about the camp, he pointed out
different tents of importance, naming their owners, and telling of great deeds
each had done or great kills they had made. She seemed not to recognize the shaman’s
tent, but in the state she was in when she had visited it he could not blame
her.

It wasn’t until they reached the southern edge of the camp
that he watched as several Orcs out upon the dunes hacked and stabbed at the
giant whose corpse remained, cutting the beast into manageable sized pieces.

Realizing he had paused in his walk he looked down to Jen,
who stared back at him blankly as if her mind had wandered. Thinking it better
that perhaps she did not witness the butchering of the giant he led her on,
further still, the night growing darker around them. Before the moons topped
the sky and began to fall, he led her once again to his tent where they talked
of his bargain with the goddess.

“If you made a deal with Ishanya, what does she want from
you in return?” Jen asked.

“She want trust. Want me be chief. Want me make all clans
one. Want me build temple.”

“Do you think that you should start? What if she gets mad?”

“Not get mad. Gnak tell Ishanya, you life precious. She no
get mad. After Jen heal Gnak do promise.”

“Is that all you and… Oh my, I’ve forgotten her name,” Jen
giggled.

“Ishanya.”

“Yeah, her. Is that all you talked about with the god? I
only ask cause
I
would have
so
many questions if ever I met a
god.”

“Ishanya say me small. Say bring you back, maybe no good. Say
go bad. I tell god I owe this. I bring back, make right. Gnak need Jen make Orcs
better. Jen make Gnak better.”

Gnak watched as her little face beamed with pride, a smile
crossing her lips as he concluded.

“Aw, Gnak. I like you too.”

On and on they talked, late into the night, with nothing
better to do. Gnak was glad she was doing well. The shaman’s words, along with
Ishanya’s warning, had worried him. But all was progressing well. Soon Jen
would heal and he would leave with her and retrace their steps back to the
human camp. When she was safe he could return to his people and begin doing as
he had sworn to the goddess. For now he would enjoy her company and continue to
learn from her. He did not look forward to taking her home, and being alone
without her again. She had changed his life so much, her absence would leave a
void in him. Of that he was certain. But so too was he certain that she needed
her own people.

Watching Jen settle into her pile of furs, tossing and
turning for a short while, he waited until she was asleep before he let go and
drifted off as well. It was the middle of the day when he awoke abruptly to the
choking and gagging sounds in his tent.

Sitting up abruptly, his eyes snapped open just in time to
witness Jen folding nearly in half as she vomited uncontrollably upon the floor
of his tent. Wracked by convulsions again and again, she spewed the contents of
her stomach upon the ground. Climbing from his bed of furs, he was clueless as
to what he could do to be of assistance. Not knowing what else he could offer,
he approached the small girl and placed his hand upon her shoulder in
reassurance as the spasms passed.

When she was certain she was done, she apologized, but Gnak
laid her back down in bed and prepared to remove the foul smelling pile of
vomit. Collecting a bucket and large piece of flat stone he scraped the vile
mess from his floor into the bucket, sure not to leave any behind. Then,
leaving the camp, he strode out into the sand and buried the vomit, filling the
bucket with dry sand and dumping it again several times.

Assured his bucket was clean, and sniffing it for proof, he
filled it with fresh sand and returned to his tent, replacing what he had
removed. Then, with as kind a grin as he could manage, he handed the bucket to
Jen with a shrug.

She took his meaning, situating the bucket next to her in
case she needed to vomit further. Gnak settled back in bed and both of them
eventually found sleep again without interruption for the rest of the daylight
hours.

Night came and Jen appeared very much recovered. Her skin
looked plump and firm once more, and finally she appeared like the child that
she was. Gnak again felt reassured that her health was on the right track. Perhaps
humans needed bread and cheese with their meat. Maybe she had simply eaten too
much. It did not matter so long as she was recovering.

On this night he related the tale to her, as best he could,
of his time spent with the goblins. It was a long tale and took most of the
night, but waiting until he finished patiently, Jen had several questions when
he concluded.

“Do you think the goblins got their gold?”

“Me think, yes.”

“What was it like riding on the head of the giant?”

“Was big. Feel proud. Know see you. Make happy,” he said to
her replied grin. It was an odd warm feeling, making a child smile, and he
liked it very much.

“Did the goblin… um…?”

Gnak watched as she struggled for the word she sought, her
face scrunching up and lips puckering as she concentrated.

“You know, their leader…”

“Goblin king?”

“Yes, exactly. Did the goblin king… hmm. I forgot my
question,” she said with a look of defeat.

“Almost day. You tired.”

“It’s OK, Gnak, it’s just a headache. Maybe if I get some…Oh
dear…”

“Sleep,” Gnak said.

“Yes, sleep. Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel better.”

Gnak laid awake for hours watching the small girl sleep. Something
was amiss, and he planned to watch her carefully. In a few days they would
return to the shaman and have her wound checked. Not thinking straight and
forgetting words sounded all too familiar to Gnak. He could not help but wonder
if her wound had become infected.

For several days he watched her as she complained about her
head hurting. Occasionally she vomited, and her skin had become puffy and taut.
She was having more and more trouble completing thoughts and sentences. He
dared wait no longer.

Leading the small girl to the shaman’s tent, he thrust his
head inside. Within the tent, the shaman turned to face him and, seeing no one
else inside, Gnak pulled open the flaps and steered Jen in with him. The shaman
sighed, looking at the girl and shaking his head.

“She no heal,” the shaman stated with a simple look at Jen’s
face.

“You look. You see. You fix,” Gnak stated, trying to sound
neither demanding nor pleading.

“I look. You no like,” the shaman warned, and came to stand
before Jen.

Gnak watched as the shaman lifted her arms and tugged her
shirt up and over her head. This time she did not wince, her shame having
apparently left her. Leaning over the small child, the shaman carefully unlaced
the fabric he had bound her small torso in nearly ten days before.

Appearing moist, the fabric was discolored, growing darker
with each layer the shaman unwrapped. When he neared the end, a foul smell
filled the tent making both Orcs curl their upper lips. Jen did not seem to
notice. She simply stood staring off into the distance, her eyes unfocused.

As the shaman unwound the final layer of fabric, pulling it
back, the flesh came with it, tearing away from her body like slabs of half
dried mud. Beneath the flesh pus oozed, and unwrapping the puncture wounds in
both her chest and back, maggots poured from the holes, the foul stench
becoming a thousand times worse. Gnak nearly vomited, not because of the smell
or what he saw, but what he felt.

Grasping the cloth bandaging, he quickly wound it back
around the small girl, tucking the loose edge within the previous layer before
snatching up her shirt and tugging it back over her head. The shaman pointed a
finger at Jen, turning a stern gaze upon Gnak.

“Girl gone. This dead. Put down.”

Gnak shook his head, snatching up Jen in his arms and
fleeing the tent in a rush. All but sprinting back to his own tent, he burst
through the flaps just as his tears burst forth from his own eyes. He had done
something wrong. It had not worked right. The goddess had warned him but he had
not understood. He hated being a stupid Orc, and setting Jen upon her bed he
punched himself in the head repeatedly. He had failed her. Again.