Savage
Authors: Robyn Wideman
Copyright © 2016 Robyn Wideman
Published: Sept 24 2016
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LAGVON STRONGHOLD
THOUGHTS of death filled Bazur’s mind as he slowly stalked his way up the hill. Today blood was going to be shed. The pre-dawn light, barely enough to see solid shapes in the distance, filled the sky with shades of gray. Bazur and the rest of his unit of orc warriors stealthily made their way up the hill. The orcs had finally chosen to enter the war between their neighboring human kingdoms.
Bazur looked forward to the battle. For too long, he’d been on border patrol, dealing with lowly bandits and crooked smugglers. It was good to be back in battle. Gripping his war scythe tight, Bazur rolled his neck, stretching his muscles. Only half-orc, Bazur wasn’t as thickly muscled as the rest of his unit, something he was constantly reminded of by his fellow orc warriors, but he made up for it with a level of speed and dexterity that no full-blood orc could match. While he was physically different, smaller and faster than the others, one orc trait that Bazur shared was his love of conflict. The rush of adrenaline, a chance to test his skills, to prove that despite being half human, he was as worthy in in battle as any other full blooded orc. Today was a good day. Today Bazur would get his fill of battle. If the gods were good, the ground would be soaked in enemy blood.
As Bazur and his orc unit crested the hill they entered the forest. The thin strip of forest was all that remained before they reached the Plains of Axhera where the forces of Azmarin and Oclesh were camped at opposite ends of the valley. At dawn the two armies would come together in conflict. Bazur and his men would attack the flank of the Oclesh army. The orc soldiers, fifty strong, were not nearly as large a unit as either of the two human armies, but fifty orcs in a surprise attack were a potentially devastating force that could cause chaos and panic among the rank of the Oclesh armies, giving the armies of Azmarin a powerful advantage. One only an orc could provide. Not that Bazur cared if Azmarin won or lost. He was here for the joy of battle. What difference would it make which human kingdom won or lost?
Dawn arrived, and with it the march of soldiers. The two human armies were marching toward each other on the Plains of Axhera. Bazur smiled as he stopped. Rilug, the orc commander had picked the perfect spot. The thick trees would hide the orcs until they attacked. The valley was narrow and the Oclesh army would be marching only a few feet away from the edge of the forest. The attack would be sudden and savage. It would be a glorious victory for Bazur and his fellow warriors. Glancing over at Dalthu, Bazur whispered, “I’ll bet you twenty gold coins my war scythe slays more humans than your axes.”
Dalthu chuckled softly. “Easiest coin I’ll ever get. I’ll take your bet, Zargha.”
Bazur smiled at the use of his orc name. It had taken years before the orc warriors of Irri had respected his prowess as a warrior enough to use his orc name. Today, he would give them even more reason to do so. Looking through the trees, Bazur saw the long lines of enemy soldiers marching through the valley. Four rows of soldiers had already passed Bazur when Rilug gave the signal. It was time to attack.
Breaking into a run, Bazur burst forward. Crashing through the last branches of the forest, he leaped into the air, soaring over the heads of the first enemy soldiers. He landed with a crash, heavily colliding with a pair of soldiers. His heavy body sent the soldiers stumbling to the ground. Bazur roared and started swinging his heavy war scythe, slashing and slicing through the soldiers of Oclesh. Around him, Bazur could hear the sounds of battle as the other orc warriors assaulted the flank of the Oclesh army. Bazur only caught glimpses of Rilug and Dalthu as he kept his attention on the sea of Oclesh soldiers surrounding him. The Oclesh soldiers were scared. They were caught off guard by the savage sneak attack and the men were panicking. It took several minutes before the captains organized the troops to counterattack. But by then Bazur and his companions had cut large swaths of the right flank down and were pushing toward the middle of the masses of soldiers. The scream and shouts of terrified soldiers drowned out the orders of the Oclesh captains.
As the Oclesh finally focused on the orc warriors, using a shield wall to surround the orcs, the archers of Azmarin started firing. The soldiers of Oclesh didn’t know what to do. When they lifted their shields to stop the barrage of Azmarinian arrows the orcs cut them down. When they turned their shields back to the deadly orcs, another volley of arrows came down on them. Finally, an Oclesh commander recognized that his army was about to be defeated. A bullhorn was raised and the loud blaring noise signaled retreat. The Oclesh were defeated!
Bazur growled and laughed as Oclesh soldiers stumbled over one another, trying to run away. His scythe sliced the heels of those who dared to turn their backs on him. Soon the entire army of Oclesh was on the run, leaving Bazur and his fellow orc warriors alone with the wounded and hundreds of dead soldiers. The army of Azmarin had fallen back, and the battle was over.
Bazur stabbed an Oclesh soldier as he tried to crawl away. Another turned and looked at Bazur defiantly. Bazur stood over the man, preparing to give him a warrior’s death, but something about the way the man looked at him gave Bazur pause. He didn’t have the look of a warrior accepting death, or the fear of a man not yet ready to face the afterlife.
“You think you’ve won this war, orc?” asked the soldier. “You don’t know what you’ve done. The minute your orcs chose to join the battle, you doomed your village. Our master has been waiting for your treachery and has repaid it in kind. By now, Lagvon is burning. Did you think we wouldn’t notice all the warriors of your village disappearing? You broke the peace and now you’ll pay with the lives of your loved ones.”
An attack against women and children, the idea was repulsive to an orc. A true warrior only fought other warriors, not the weak or protectors of younglings, but Bazur could see from the man's lip licking smile, he was not a true warrior, but a sniveling coward.as only a coward would take pleasure in the killing of innocents instead of warriors. A tingle of fear went up Bazur’s spine as he thought about the damage a regiment of soldiers could do in the stronghold with all its warriors gone.
The soldier grinned as he watched Bazur’s face. “You think you defeated the army of Oclesh? Look around at these soldiers. Old men and criminals grabbed from the prisons of Oclesh. Our real soldiers are busy right now with your women. Hell, those bastards will probably rape your men too. You damnable arrogant orcs walked right into your own doom.”
Bazur glanced around the battlefield. Many of the dead Oclesh soldiers were old, many had ill-fitting armor. Perhaps this man wasn’t lying. The Oclesh were not known to be weak warriors, and the battle had gone well. Too well. Bazur looked for Rilug and called him over. “Rilug, this one has information you need to hear.”
Rilug walked over and glared down at the Oclesh soldier. “Why is this one still alive?”
“Because he claims this was a setup. The soldiers we fought weren’t the real army of Oclesh. They were old men and criminals dressed as soldiers. He claims the real army is attacking our village.”
Rilug scoffed. “He’s a human. They will say anything to save their skin.”
But Bazur wasn’t so certain. In fact, he was sure the human was telling the truth. He took too much pleasure in delivering his message of deceit for it to be a lie. Now Bazur needed to make sure Rilug saw it as a legitimate concern, otherwise the orc would simply keep looking for the next battle. “Look around, Rilug. Do you not see that many of the men are too old to be soldiers? I’ll bet the rest are criminals as he says.” Bazur grabbed the armor of one of the younger-looking dead Oclesh soldiers. He ripped it off the body. The dead man’s back was covered in the type of scars a slave or a criminal would receive, not the scars of a soldier. “I believe he is telling the truth, Rilug. We should return home immediately before it is too late.”
Rilug examined the bodies of other dead Oclesh. Most were old or feeble. “Damn cowardly humans. You are right, Zargha. This was a setup.” Rilug roared in disgust and viciously ripped his dagger across the throat of the Oclesh criminal who had told Bazur of the attack. Rilug raised his voice so all the orcs could hear him. “Back to Lagvon as fast as you can move. There’s no time for plundering.” The orcs looked at Rilug with concern. Acknowledging the dead and robbing them of any weapons they had that were worth taking was the right of the killing warrior. Not to take any treasure meant something was seriously wrong.
Bazur started to run. He feared they would be too late to be of any help if they didn’t move as swift as the wind. He and Rilug led the way back to the orc stronghold. It was a full two day walk to the stronghold, but if they ran, they might get there before nightfall. The only question was whether it would be soon enough. The strongest of the orcs were all in this war party. Only the young, old, and women who were warriors remained: not nearly enough orcs to defend the stronghold against a surprise attack. Bazur had no wife or children to return to, but both of his parents were in the stronghold.
Sweat flowed from Bazur’s head. His clothes were all damp with perspiration. The war party had pushed themselves to the brink trying to get home to save their loved ones. Bazur’s thoughts drifted to his family. At times, his relationship with his father was strained. His father had many views were different from the orcs of the village, and often Bazur thought his father was weak when he didn’t approve of orc ways. Bazur’s mother chided him for taking this attitude and said Bazur was foolish for blindly following the lead of others without thinking things through for himself. Lately, Bazur had started to understand both his parents better, but for a number of years Bazur had been ashamed to have been the son of a lowly human. It made him an outcast, always having to prove he belonged with his fellow orcs.
It was almost nightfall when Bazur and the orcs returned to the village stronghold of Lagvon, and when they reached it, the battle was in full swing. The soldiers of Oclesh had broken through the gates and were fighting inside the stronghold walls. Every orc, man, woman, and child old enough to wield a weapon was fighting back against the human invaders, but the numbers favored the Oclesh soldiers.
Bazur felt the usual surge of energy coursing through his body as he entered the fight, but this was not the usual battle where he feared nothing, not even death. This time the lives of those he loved were at stake. His normal eagerness for blood was tempered by his desire to find his parents and make sure they were safe.
As they ran, Rilug used hand signals to organize the orcs. Half of them would run into the stronghold, hitting the Oclesh soldiers inside, while the other half would attack the soldiers still outside the stronghold. Bazur understood what Rilug wanted to do. If all of the orcs in their force entered the stronghold, the Oclesh could surround them, pinning them inside the stronghold using their own walls against them. By attacking from two fronts, the orcs would force the Oclesh to partially retreat. If none of the human soldiers noticed them, they would be able to strike hard at the backs of the soldiers and enter the stronghold with minimal losses to their forces. Bazur just hoped none of the Oclesh soldiers were watching for them. A good orc commander would never allow any enemy to come up behind his troops. But the humans in their eagerness to destroy the stronghold might make that mistake.
Bazur spotted a rear sentry, the man was only half-assed doing his duty. He was scanning back and forth between the battle at the stronghold and the woods surrounding it, not truly focused on watching the woods. Luckily, he hadn’t spotted them yet, but if the fool turned his head, he would undoubtedly see them and sound an alarm. Bazur lifted his war scythe and threw it like a spear. It struck the sentry in the chest. Bazur ran up and slowed only long enough to retrieve his weapon. As he grabbed it, he heard the sounds of the first orc warriors hitting the line of Oclesh soldiers. The sentry Bazur had killed seemed to have been the only one watching the woods, and the orc warriors successfully snuck up on the Oclesh. Bazur hurried to join Rilug. He sliced the leg of an Oclesh soldier on the way by but didn’t stop to finish the man off. Instead, he ran past the soldiers outside the stronghold gates and into the stronghold where he joined the orc warriors. The bodies of dead orcs littered the ground. Bazur could see the body of the odd Oclesh soldier but the vast majority were those of orcs. The Oclesh had almost finished their massacre of the villagers by the time the war party arrived. So many orc bodies littered the ground, Bazur's heart cringed to think of how many had survived. This was why he cursed being half human, to be ever associated with such a cowardly attack because of his father’s bloodlines. Damn the human cowards!
An Oclesh soldier turned and swung his sword at Bazur. Bazur blocked the attack with his scythe and then countered with an attack of his own. Unlike the morning attack on the fake Oclesh soldiers, this battle was not easy. The soldier was well-trained and was able to block Bazur’s attack. Back and forth they fought, and for each move Bazur had, the soldier had a counter move. Bazur grew desperate. His parents were out there somewhere, he needed to find them. He had no time to spar with this soldier, no matter how good he was. Bazur roared and dropped his shoulder into the soldier’s chest. The surprise body attack knocked the soldier down. Bazur struck his foot down to the soldier’s exposed neck, crushing his windpipe.
Bazur tried to make his way toward his parents’ home, but before he could get there, he ran into Rilug fighting a trio of Oclesh soldiers. Rilug had already been wounded and was barely holding the three soldiers at bay. Bazur jumped beside Rilug and defended his side. The three soldiers attacked as one. Bazur and Rilug fended off the attack. Bazur killed one of the soldiers with a well-placed stab through the eye into the brain, but two more soldiers took his place. It took everything Bazur and Rilug had to fend them off. Rilug suffered more slashing cuts to the chest, while Bazur was cut across the thigh and his forearm. Finally, another orc, Oment, joined the fight and they were able to push the Oclesh soldiers off.
