Fallen Crown (Orc Destiny Volume II) (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (7 page)

As the Orcs came to, they began clamoring to their feet in
an attempt to spring back into the fight but before they could even complete
the thought, Gnak’s captains were upon them, grabbing them from behind and
holding them firm. Tilting his head back to look down at them, he waved them
away with a disgusted gesture as his men took their cue and led the outsiders
away from the camp before releasing them. Still the Gathos tribe did not stir.

Gnak realized that none but a select few had known of his
ability to simply stop another man in his tracks. Now
all
knew. He could
see the pride swelling within them. Gathos, though proud, was not strong among
the clans of their own kind. They did not have any warriors blessed by the Orc
gods. Had not had any for many generations. Now, however, they had a chief that
was not only powerful, but also blessed by a god. Gnak had even gone so far as
to defy the big chief, and he knew that all of them understood what
that
meant.

Though it had not been an open challenge, Gnak had not
simply submitted to the big chief. The blessed warrior who ruled over all the
clans could take Gnak’s actions as an insult and come to put Gnak and the
Gathos clan back in check. Numerous times he was known to kill much of a clan
for retribution for such an insult. After having dealt his punishment, he would
simply place one of his own captains in the dead chief’s place. But Gnak was
not afraid. He had just proven himself to the clan. They would now work hard to
do as he wished. They now had faith in him, even if his ideas were new. Gnak
felt secure in their newfound pride, and felt he needed to use it to his
benefit while it was fresh in their hearts.

“Pray mighty Ishanya give Gathos strength,” Gnak began, and
the unified voice of his clan picked up the prayer. He watched as the three
retreating Orcs stopped and turned to look back over their shoulders at what
they could plainly hear. Seeing their pause, Gnak grinned a tusky grin, before
returning his attention to those around him.

Turning, he slapped Bota on the back as the prayer was
finished and gave an order to his clan.

“Now big chief know Gathos. Now he know Gnak. We no break
camp. We go when Gnak say. No when big chief say. Let clans come. Let Orcs
challenge Gathos. All fall who not stand for Ishanya.”

It was a bold statement and one he was not certain was
entirely true, but it fed into their belief in him, and he was assured of its
effectiveness when the clan replied.  Grunting together as one, many shouted
and rattled their weapons, raising them into the air in defiance. Pleased, he
and Bota strode through the camp as his captains began barking orders to set up
a patrol and various lookout posts around the camp. All Orcs were familiar with
war, and the Gathos clan was no different. If any came to challenge them, they
would be ready.

Entering his tent with Bota, he could tell by the other
Orc’s face that the man thought him mad. At least to some degree. He was
beginning to like Bota. He could trust him to speak his mind. The Orc was
useful.

“Bota talk,” Gnak invited.

“Gnak challenge big chief. What if big chief come?” Bota
asked.

“Big chief come, Gnak fight, take clan.”

“Big chief clan, many god warriors. Big chief come, many
die.”

It was true, and Gnak knew it. Bota was pissing on his mood.
If the big chief did come he would bring his clan, and Gnak knew it was the
most impressive force the Orcs could muster. Each member of the chief’s clan
was hand-plucked from the other tribes of Orcs, and many of them were blessed
by the gods. If they came, they would slaughter no less than all of Gnak’s
captains, and likely most of the men in general, before the big chief even came
to stand before Gnak. Opposition to the big chief was not taken lightly, and
was punished severely.

His emboldened pride effectively pissed away, Gnak could
only hope that his defiance was not seen as a direct challenge, but with it
effectively out of his control at this point, all he could do was simply take
Jen’s advice and wait.

“Bota smart. Big chief come, no go good. Gnak no think come.
We wait. We see.”

“Wait for armor?”

“Armor, yes.”

“What plan armor come?” Bota asked.

“No know yet. Need see more. Need know more. Send scouts.
Armor come, we go meet big chief. Then Gnak make plan.”

Gnak wished he knew what they were marching into. He wished
he knew why so many Orcs were gathering and what force they would be facing. He
wished he knew if he would be able to unite the clans now or if he would be
forced to wait until later. There were so many things that he did not know, it
was astounding. But with his newly acquired and still maturing understanding of
the world, at least he had learned to wait and see what it was he was facing
before rushing in to bolster his personal pride. Waiting was not the most
exciting thing to do, but for now it was the best option.

“Gnak no sleep much, many day. Need rest if fight big chief.
Bota go. Bota rest. Night come soon.”

With that he dismissed Bota and, settling upon his bed of
furs, he stared up at the ceiling and offered his own prayer to Ishanya before
closing his eyes to rest. It was not long before sleep took him and when it did
he faced a vision, the like of which he had never seen before.

CHAPTER SIX

Lightning bristled down out of the skies as swollen
thunderheads pooled about the mountaintops. Rain fell in sheets in the coming
darkness, the sky all black but for a streak of blood upon the horizon. With
every roll of thunder the world seemed to roar as Gnak peered out over the
landscape before him. Another blast, and blinding light pierced through the
slits in his helm as the ground shook beneath him.

Standing atop an immense platform, he looked out beneath him
as his world was remade to fulfill his desires. For it was his destiny to see
fulfilled the wishes of the goddess Ishanya, and before his very eyes those
wishes were being brought to reality. Below, in the rocky face of the mountain,
an immense city was being constructed. Even in the pounding rain of the darkest
night he could recall, the masses toiled to create for him a new beginning for
his realm.

Goblins climbed here and there, chisels and hammers in their
hands, chipping away at the stone face of the mountain. They carved endlessly,
day and night, making the paths and roads and buildings. Flake by flake and
stone by stone, they refined the rough edges left by those who swung mightier
blows before them, for the goblins were not alone in their efforts.

With another shot of lightning, Gnak watched as both Orc and
troll pounded the mountainside with immense hammers and picks. Here they
leveled a rise, and there they widened a chasm. Some shoveled bits of dust and
stone, clearing the way for others to work. Carts were shoved and pulled up and
down the mountain by men of all the races he commanded by the hundreds, hauling
away the waste created down a singular treacherous path to the base of the
mountain. Though he could not see if from this vantage, he knew that once
emptied at the mountain’s feet, those carts would then be loaded with building
stones carved further down the mountain.

Out around the city a great wall was being erected from
massive stones, enclosing the giant stone fortress, as giants wearing harnesses
hauled the huge slabs of rock up the face of the wall with chains and pulleys.
Lifting the immense blocks, the giants slowly lumbered down the wall, placing
them in position before they were coated with a dark thick substance.

On and on the storm raged, as the thousands of fires amongst
the rising towers and walls fought the rain to survive. Caves were able to be
seen with the flashes of lightning, peppered all across the face of the
mountains, but were lost again when the darkness returned.

Gnak looked upon it all from his perch high above the
fortress. He knew it was the most impressive thing ever built. Never before had
there ever been a city of multiple races that climbed up the mountains to touch
the clouds above, and delved deep into the ground beneath the mountains, where
stone and metal were melded together naturally in a swirling river of molten
death. Even now, he could smell the sulfur rising up through the chimneys
carved through the mountain to heat the stone and remove the natural moisture
that clung there. Down there, in the depths, toiled blacksmiths from all his
races, sharing their knowledge and skills to create for him better designed and
stronger armor and weapons than he had ever imagined. Were it not for the
raging storm he would have been able to hear the clangs of their thousands of
hammers ringing up through the stone, to be joined by the percussion of the
hammers pounding stone to dust on the surface. It was like music, the building
of his great city.

Assured that all proceeded as planned, he climbed down from
the pinnacle of his city. Down the steps that had been carved for him to crest
the temple being carved from the highest peak in his realm. Here his people
could call out to Ishanya and be heard. So close to the heavens, here their
prayers were sometimes answered. Here, Gnak knew, is where his destiny led. He
awaited the future with open arms.

* * * * *

Gnak arose feeling more refreshed than he had in weeks. With
a grin he climbed from his bed and began strapping on his armor. He had not had
a dream. No. It was entirely too real to be a simple dream. It was a vision.
Such visions were sent from the gods and his was a good one. It meant that he
was on the right path. He could almost taste his victory already. Jen would be
happy to hear it.

Donning his armor, he strode from his tent as two of his
captains quickly fell into step behind him. It was later than he had
anticipated. Both moons were already far across the sky, marking it at near the
middle of the night. He had slept much longer than he had planned, and it angered
him. Though the fact that he had not been awoken said much about the time that
had passed as he slept. As of yet the big chief had not come, but perhaps his
elation was a tad premature.

From the northern edge of camp the alarm was sounded as Gnak
turned and ran to the edge of their makeshift home, as figures began appearing
upon the dune immediately outside camp. Gnak knew them to be Orcs, but with the
moons bright in the sky and the stars behind the Orcs he could not see anything
but their silhouettes against the backdrop. Down they came, bounding down the
dune, their number appearing to be but a few. Then more silhouettes appeared
atop the dune, and he realized all too soon that these other figures were not
Orcs.  Something was amiss.

Drawing his blades, his captains followed suit and together
Gnak and half a dozen men rushed out to meet those first down the dune. Having
been expecting retaliation for his treatment of the big chief’s Orcs, his clan
rushed in behind them, and it seemed all were ready for a fight. All except
those bounding down the hill.

Gnak watched as the Orcs came to an immediate stop, each of
them raising their hands and calling out into the darkness, calling the name of
the Gathos clan in greeting. Gathos. They were his own men. But that still did
not account for the others.

“What this?” Gnak shouted, raising his hand to point at
those still atop the dune.

“Goblin king take Gnak deal. Fix armor. Send goblins help
bring armor,” one of the Orcs said. Gnak recognized it was one of his captains,
and listened on as the Orc continued.

“Goblins come war too. Goblin king come with troops. Want
talk Gnak. Goblin king think good, Gnak chief.”

Gnak could not help but smirk into the night. The goblins
marched to war too. It was an interesting discovery, assuming of course that
the big chief was not gathering his forces to attack the goblins. That could
make the understanding he had with the goblin king much more difficult. But
without such knowledge, he could not help but wonder how many troops the goblin
king commanded. He knew the small man had a large city filled with goblins, but
was clueless as to how many served as soldiers to their goblin leader. Deciding
he was more or less happy, the goblin king had come, and just as he had
promised, he would make the goblin welcome in his home. Even if it was only
temporary.

Looking up to the top of the dune where the small contingent
of goblins remained, Gnak shouted so that they might hear his words as well.

“Come, bring Gnak armor. Tell goblin king come. He talk
Gnak. Goblins welcome Gnak camp.”

The gasps from his clan were audible, and though none spoke
against his order, murmurs were plentiful and he knew and expected many of his
clan to be hesitant to accept such a visit. Even so, he waited patiently along
with his clan as the contingent of goblins pulled carts atop the dune and began
to drag them down behind them.

Gnak watched as cart after cart topped the rise and began to
descend in his direction. These were not the crude carts of his people. No. These
had wide wheels wrapped in leather and did not dig into the sand as much. They
were smaller, in proportion to the race that had created them, and each had a
harness that strapped about the goblins’ waists and shoulders. Gnak recognized
the harnesses from his vision. They were of the same make the giants had been
using to haul giant slabs of stone in his vision.

Down they came, nearly two dozen carts of goblin design,
each pulled by a pair of the small agile men. But it was the contents of the
carts that had even the most skeptical members of his clan leaning nearer to
see just what treasures they held. Piled high into the carts were stacks of
plate armor, each piece identical to the one below. Gnak was impressed. He had
hoped for, and asked for, the goblin king to have his many blacksmiths alter
and repair the odd collection of armor his men had gathered, but instead the
goblins had used the material to create entirely new pieces from the old. Gnak
was excited, an odd feeling for an Orc, but even so he wondered just how many
of his clan he would be able to outfit with the new armor. No sooner had he had
that thought, than a cart of blades was rolled before him. He recognized the
design, as it was the same as the ones he personally carried. The goblins too had
reformed every blade brought to them, and recreated each to mimic the one the
goblin king had seen him carry.