Twisted Fate (Orc Destiny Volume I) (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (3 page)

Over it turned, the weight of the bear slowing it as the
mass of fat and fur reached the top, then over the other side the bear rolled,
and the giant ball of pine limbs and vines seemed to pick up momentum as it
made the second half of the rotation.

Again, up the bear came as it slowed, and again Gnak watched
as it picked up speed as the bear again descended within the ball. Then again,
as it really began to gather momentum. “Gaaack!” he swore again.

Racing after the ball, having forgotten to reclaim the
reins, he watched as they bounced and whipped about behind the ball as it
continued to increase in speed and momentum. It was only a matter of time
before it crashed into a large tree that would leave him starting over yet
again.

Half bowling over, half bouncing off of a small green pine,
the giant ball took to the air momentarily before crashing hard to the ground
again as vines and boughs within it creaked, a few cracking beneath the
assault. Gnak ran furiously behind it and without fear for life or limb he
sprang headlong into the air, grasping the first of the reins with his
fingertips. Bouncing behind the ball, he clung to the vine for all he was
worth, rolling and waiting for the proper conditions to regain his feet. Branches,
rocks, and even ferns battered him from all angles as he tumbled, dragged
ceaselessly on. It was only seconds before the cage smashed first into a
sapling and then glanced off a larger tree, slowing its speed slightly. It was
enough for Gnak to right himself, and finding his feet he took up the chase,
one vine securely in hand.

He tried to slow the raging ball by creating drag upon the
single line, but it only slowed slightly as it began to turn towards the right.
Ahead was what appeared to be an impenetrable wall of trees, so Gnak did the
only thing available to him.

Digging in his heels he pulled with all his might, leaning
back with both hands, grasping the makeshift rein in a death grip. The ball
careened to the right in an arc as his feet slowed, nearly turning back uphill
as it spun against him as its anchor. Then, as the ball rose up to become
beside him, he allowed it to again begin rolling down the hill, but this time
he raced along at its side, a wicked grin on his face.

Less than a hundred yards ahead, a small pine stood alone at
least a few dozen yards before the wall of trees. The larger trees around them
created nearly a perfect trail, as if divine intervention had created this
place for just this circumstance. Racing along beside the great ball, he
smashed into it with his shoulder again and again, driving it further and
further away from him, lining up on his target. One second he was running, the
next… He wasn’t.

Sprinting down the mountainside at full speed, attached to a
giant ball of wood and vine, Gnak brought his plan to fruition. Racing
headlong, guiding the cage down, he watched as the small pine passed between
them, the vine connecting them suddenly becoming taut, yanking upon his hands
with unnatural force. Nearly torn from his feet, he swung around the tree,
opposite of the large round cage. Instead of being smashed to pieces by the
cage, which was precisely what he now envisioned happening, he barely missed
the wooden monstrosity and instead was clotheslined by the opposite end of the
vine.

With an audible snap his jaw was smashed closed, as the vine
connected with his throat and his feet came out from under him. Over and over
he summersaulted through the air backwards, around the tree, before hitting the
ground with an
oomph
, rolling to a stop.

Dislocated shoulder? Check. Broken tooth? Check. Wrist
beginning to swell from having been yanked and bent at an odd angle? Check. Gnak
grinned from ear to ear. His plan had worked.

Sitting up, he inspected his injuries, pulling bits of moss,
dirt, and leaves from the gash in his bicep. It still appeared to be the worst
of the damage. Untwisting the vine from around his hand and wrist, he was sure
to keep tension on it lest the ball begin rolling once more and drag him into
the wall of trees below. Assured that his wrist would recover, he turned his
attention to his finger. Though it had broken earlier, it wasn’t until now that
it had twisted to an odd degree. Grasping it with his other hand, he pulled it
straight again with a snapping sound that caused him to grimace. Nodding his
approval as it appeared to be straight once more, he rose from the ground and
dusted himself off.

Taking the second rein, he watched downhill as a shadow
darted amongst the trees there. He debated leaving the bear and rolling cage
behind to pursue the Orc that watched him from the shadows, but did not trust
the tree to hold the weight of the bear over an extended time. As it was, it
had become half uprooted from the blow he and the bear had given it. With no
other option, he carefully untangled himself from the tree and again watched as
nothing happened.

Clenching his jaw, not wanting to show the one that watched
his frustration, he put back to ball once more and shoved, keeping a rein
firmly in each hand. As before, the rolling mass of limbs gave way and over it
flipped unevenly. This time Gnak was ready for it and trotted behind the thing,
guiding it as best as he was able to the largest path between the trees he
could see from his vantage. Occasionally setting his body against the motion,
he would slow it to better control both speed and direction. His competition
below vanished somewhere in the shadows, but Gnak kept his eyes peeled as best
as he was able, preparing himself for an attack he knew was inevitable.

The sky was lighting dramatically as Gnak broke through the
line of trees, the ball barely fitting between the massive trunks as he guided
the massive thing. No sooner did he clear the row of trees than his opponent
reappeared. Dropping down from the branches above the Orc, nearly as large as
he, did the opposite of what Gnak expected. Instead of leaping right in for the
attack, it sauntered along beside him a moment as he guided the ball, gradually
slowing it down in case he needed to manage stopping it to fight.

“You want me help?” the Orc called out.

Gnak recognized the voice, though was uncertain of the Orc’s
name. He was one of a pair of twins, neither known for their intelligence. Whether
it was Kunk or Burl didn’t matter really, as he had no intentions of sharing
his prize.

“We split great bear, have feast, be comrades,” the Orc
shouted, keeping pace.

Then, Gnak saw the wisdom in the words from a usually unwise
member of his clan. It
would
be easier to control the contraption with
another handler. Why not share the labor? With a grunt he reached out his hand,
and Kunk, or Burl, whichever one it was, took the left rein and helped to guide
it further down the mountain.

For several hours the addition of a second body
was
a
great asset. Controlling not only the speed but also the direction was much
easier. Gnak was surprised how easy it was to work together to control the cage
as they picked out a safe trail down the mountain. They saw no other Orcs along
their decent, and if any others had seen them, they had not approached the
apparent team.

After all, it was not uncommon for Orcs to create alliances
in order to further their own causes. It was the reason they had clans
consisting of many families. It was the reason separate clans came to the call
of a single chief in times of war with other races. But usually, when it was no
longer beneficial to all parties, such alliances would break up until deemed
necessary once more. Such was the case, Gnak thought, of his current alliance.

Nearing the base of the mountains, the trees began to thin
noticeably as the sun rose higher and higher into the sky. Pulling upon his
rein tightly, Gnak began to drag upon the ball, altering its course to avoid a
small ravine ahead. Of course it was not the only obstacle he noted. Suddenly
letting go of his rein altogether, he shouted in dismay, as if it had been an
accident. His temporary comrade fought with the cage as it began picking up
speed, digging in his heels in an attempt to slow or stop the giant ball, but
it was no use. Here the slope was too steep, the ball following a groove worn
in the rocky soil by an eternity of rainfall down the mountainside. The great
spherical cage followed the groove, dragging with it a now bouncing and rolling
Orc to only one foreseeable location.

As the shallow groove in the earth narrowed ahead, it passed
between a pair of trees. Gnak watched as the cage careened up one side of the
shallow gorge, only to again alter course back into it. Down it went, Kunk or
Burl crashing along behind it as it reached the breach between the two trees. Just
as Gnak hoped, the ball passed between the trees, but the Orc passed outside
the left tree. Like he had done earlier, the Orc was yanked hard, his body
snapping like a whip, smashed full in the face by the cage as they met opposite
the tree.

The impact was hard enough that it was apparent the Orc had
become injured, its body bouncing back off the wooden surface to land in a heap
upon its back. Gnak raced up to his fallen clan-mate and pounced upon him.
Share
labor? Yes. Reward? No.
Viciously he plunged his sword into the back of his
fallen temporary ally, penetrating between the ribs, through the heart and into
the ground below. Jerking his blade free, he wiped it on the tattered leather
armor of the fallen foe before rolling him over. Then, straddling the man’s
chest, he smashed it in the face over and over with his pommel, breaking loose
the teeth that would be his trophy. Pulling the tusks from the third destroyed
mouth of the day, he dropped them into the pouch upon his belt and rose to again
disentangle his cage from the tree. It was ruthless, he knew, but such
knowledge was no burden on his soul. Remorse was not a trait he had learned. His
people would be proud, and the clan would respect his kill. That was what
mattered. To gain a position, you must first eliminate your competition, and
then create a void in the position you wished to fill. It was simple, just, and
fair. The strongest led while the weaker followed. Gnak wanted to lead.

With the rolling cage back under his control, he gave it a
shove and once again followed as it picked up speed. This time he let it go as
fast as was possible, and as soon as he had it on course he released the reins
and simply chased the giant rolling cage of boughs. It would need a great deal
of speed and momentum to carry it beyond the foothills and into the sands of
the desert below. As it was, midday came as the ball rolled to a stop just a
few paces into the sand. With a dozen or so miles left to traverse, Gnak took up
the reins once more and pulling one up over each shoulder he grasped them
against his chest and leaned forward, beginning to pull. Reluctantly the ball
followed, half rolling, half dragging along through the sand, leaving a clear
trail in Gnak’s wake.

Sweating after mere moments in the hot sun, his eyes burned
in the bright light as the biting flies swarmed him. Slowly, ever so slowly, he
dragged the beast along behind him, cursing the heat, the light, and the bear’s
massive carcass. It was nightfall once again as he made it to the outskirts of
his camp, covered in swollen lumps from the many bites he had suffered.

Comfortable darkness was reclaiming the land as Gnak dragged
his kill into the camp, circumventing the short wall surrounding it. Those out
and about gathered to witness his feat, his peers sneering, obviously outdone
by his more ambitious prize. Pretending to keep to his task he peered around at
the camp, taking in as much as he could while pulling his sword to begin
cutting through the vines that lashed the cage together. Within the camp were
the usual suspects. A bear here, a mountain lion there, each roasting upon a
spit hung over a fire. A dire wolf was a great prize, and he saw two among the
kills now roasting, but only one carcass within the camp was large enough in
size to rival his own. At least from
this
vantage. From here, however,
he could not tell just what the other large carcass belonged to.

Turning his attention back to the task at hand, he made a
show of cutting the last vines as the boughs relaxed and opened up like a
desert flower, spreading to show the ancient bear within. Many nodded in
appreciation, a show of respect for the great beast and he the one who slayed
it. Putting his sword to the bear’s belly, he sliced it from ribs down between
its hind legs to its tail. Reaching within the great creature he pulled out
guts and entrails, creating a pile of gruesome flesh in equal proportion to his
own body. Once gutted, he set about the task of skinning the great beast with a
crowd of onlookers. Most were his peers, the others to enter Catunga with him,
but others were elders. These helped him to maneuver the carcass to better
remove the hide and head.

When the gutting and skinning was compete, the hide and head
were gathered by an Orc woman for tanning, where she would boil the brains and
bush the putrid concoction onto the flesh to keep it from hardening or rotting.
Gnak did not know her name. Did not care to, so long as she brought him back
his hide when the work was complete.

The entrails were gathered by a male for use in crafting
weapons and armor, before the giant skinned carcass was run through with a long
iron rod and, with the help of his elders, Gnak and three others lifted the
great bear and carried it to the center of the camp and placed it upon its
supports. There it would be rotated for the remainder of the day, following
night, and another day before being consumed by his clan.

It was the role of the strong to hunt, and he had proven to
be very strong by providing a great meal for the feast. Such an accomplishment
would serve him well at the conclusion of Catunga, for it would be factored
into his ability to lead. With his kill roasting upon a spit, liquids already
seeping from it to sizzle in the fire, Gnak turned to seek the shaman’s tent
for herbs to pack the wound upon his arm with. It was then his eyes fell upon
the other massive carcass that was at present being roasted like his own. Had
it not been for the head upon the ground near the spit, he still would not have
recognized it for what it was. At least not right away.