Iron Blooded

The meeting took place in the center of the plains, at a place between the two gathered armies.

It wasn’t hard to see the toll that war had taken on both sides. The lines of human men were dust-covered and worn out from constant travel and battle. In comparison, the line of gathered orks had been thinned considerably in the events during and following Ceris.

Those that had chosen to remain with the Chief’s son looked to number only a few hundred – enough to match the force that the reinforcements had sent. It had been a long campaign, and we now had a chance to end it.

Magus Ferris chose several veteran soldiers as guards, and motioned for me to join him as he prepared to descend the hill. I had taken the time to see that Jorgen was cared for, and allow one of the healers to close the wounds on my face and arm. Though they no longer bled, the pink line of the scars were tender to the touch, and would no doubt take days to heal.

Removing the scabbard that no longer fit my weapon, I settled instead for sheathing the short sword in my belt before slinging my shield over my back on a leather cord. Iron Fang was strapped to my left him, within easy grabbing distance if things got ugly.

Knowing the nature of the orks, I wanted to be prepared for bloodshed. Peace talks or not, there wasn’t any telling what the outcome would be.

“Are these all the men you’re taking?” I asked, nodding to the four veteran soldiers that stood alongside Ferris. The Magus nodded.

“I was hoping you might bring a trusted man with you – one you know is handy in a fight and not liable to run.”

I arched a brow.

A ghost of a smile flitted across the Magus face.

“Yes yes, the irony isn’t lost on me Ser Knight. Make no mistake, peace is the overall goal – and one Kadia sorely needs if we’re to survive what’s to come in the next few seasons. But I have no illusions of how this meeting might go. Better to be prepared then dead, my master would say.”

I nodded my agreement and glanced over my stats.

Class: Soldier

Rank: Knight, 3rd Auxiliary

Level: 20

Trait: Swordsmanship

Level: Silver

Trait: Heavy Armor

Level: Bronze

Strength: 30

Vitality: 26

Damage: 29

Endurance: 26

Agility: 27

My Mana level was low, but the charge for my Bastion ability was over halfway. If push came to shove, I might be able to force it. Thought the consequences of that could be dire. I needed more control over my Mana Well and I knew the best way to learn was to ask Lord Blackthorne himself. Then again, whether or not I would even stay a Knight was up in the air.

Draxus strode towards me, his sword sheathed and a spear clutched in his fist. He had wiped most of the ork blood from himself, but dried blood still coated his armor like paint. He’d torn off the sleeves of his tunic and his bare muscled arms made him look like a berserker.

“A peace talk?” he asked, incredulous. “Is this Magus insane? This is a war not a parlay.”

I glanced towards Ferris who was leaning over to speak with one of the administrators.

“He isn’t a fool,” I said honestly. “He knows Kadia is in a precarious position. The appearance of the herald has nobility spooked and after what we saw In Ceris I can hardly blame them. The sooner this war is over the better.”

Draxus toyed with a bandage on his arm and let the silence stretch between us. Then he glanced up and met my gaze.

“So are you going to tell me what that was about? Back there with the Northern Knights?”

I fought a grimace and rubbed absently at the new scar on the inside of my arm. I was loathed to worry my men – not after we’d been through so much in recent days. But I knew the greater truth. One way or another they would find out and it was better if I bit this in the bud here and now.

“I was given a missive,” I said. “A letter from some Lord of the North. The Duke’s Heir, apparently. It was a request that I be… dismissed from my post. My best guess is that news of Lord Dacon knighting me has spread through the Kingdom, and some are questioning that choice. Lord Blackthorne did say there might be unforeseen consequences.”

Draxus sucked in a breath and to my surprise he spat on the ground.

“The bloody North,” he grumbled, pulling the bandage on his arm tighter with more force than seemed necessary.

“The Duke is a powerful man, some might even say one of the most influential nobles in the Kingdom. But rumor has it he’s gotten old and his children have taken to bickering over who gets to succeed him. If the accounts are anything to go by none of them are qualified for the post. A spoiled nest of vipers, that lot.”

I studied him with an intensity that made him look up.

“What?”

“You sound as if you speak from experience,” I said, keeping my tone light even as I watched him intently.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you knew the North better than you let on.”

Draxus flinched and looked away. I could tell by the set of his shoulders that he didn’t want to talk about it. Before, I might have avoided pressing on this particular wound. But after all we’d been through I felt compelled to settle my suspicions.

“I’m not condemning you,” I said. “Know that I view you like a brother, and will always have your back. But When I ask, I want an honest answer. When the Lady Inquisitor spoke to you in the swamp she said things.. things about your past. She seemed to know your family or at least know of you. Who are you, Draxus? And be straight with me.”

There was a silence between us that seemed to stretch for uncomfortably long. The Magus continued to speak with the administrator, no doubt having the terms to the ceasefire written out. I wondered absently if orks could even read. Then, finally, Draxus spoke.

“You’re right,” he said. “I haven’t been entirely honest with you. My father…. He was a Knight in the Duke’s court. We aren’t nobility, but our blood was mixed from old noble stock. As a result my father was gifted and the Duke recognized his skill with a blade and his growing power. Took him on as a squire when he was only sixteen and well… the rest was history.”

Draxus didn’t smile.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“I’m guessing it didn’t end well.”

The warrior shrugged.

“For a time it did. My family was elevated, our living made comfortable and our reputation whole. The Duke seemed to love my father like a brother. But one day it all went.. south. I don’t know why – hell nobody does. But one night the Inquisition came for him. They accused him of treason… among other things. The trial was short and he was hanged the next day. As for my family's reputation,” He gazed off into the distance.

“I imagine that died with him.”

I allowed a few beats to pass before I reached up and rested a hand on his shoulder. My friend blinked around at me, his eyes still distant.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said. “And for that of your family.”

Draxus nodded, throat bobbing.

“It’s all in the past now. Anyway, Northern politics are complicated. If one of the Duke’s children has some sort of vendetta against you then it will be a complicated thing. If you ask me though, Lord Blackthorne isn’t going to give you up without a fight. You’re one of his best assets.”

I snorted. “Let’s hope your right.” Then I stretched my back, sore muscles protesting.

“Fuck the North,” I said. “And Fuck war.”

Draxus finally grinned and I saw a flicker of his old self return.

“Aye, fuck the North.”

***

The field was all but silent as we made our way to the meeting place. Behind us, the standard of the rearing horse flapped on the hill above. Lord Blackthornes banner, and one I had fought under for this entire campaign.

The orks had no standard. Instead, the new Chief had been brought a rough-hewn log to sit on, and the two orks at his back looked mean and ready for battle. They were armored in dark iron, and each had rams horns that curved around their ears to formidable points. One had a strong of something that looked suspiciously like human ears slung around his torso. Charming.

“Be on your guard,” I told the veteran soldiers.

“Aye Ser William.”

Draxus stood on the other side of the Magus, his spear gripped tightly in one hand. From the way he eyed the orks I could tell he was tense. I felt the same. The shadow Magus stood at the edge of the ork host, dark robes billowing like smoke. His arms were clasped behind his back but I could see his catlike eyes glinting from at least two hundred feet away.

Magus Ferris leaned close to me and without moving his lips said.

“Will, keep an eye on him. If he moves from that spot, tell me. And be prepared to react quickly.”

I grunted an affirmation and kept the Magus In my sight as our party came to a stop. Magus Ferris stepped forward.

“I assume you are the famous son of the Firebrand,” he said, his voice carrying. “I am Magus Ferris, blessed by his majesty the God King to serve all of Kadia. It is my understanding you called upon us to negotiate. So, state your terms.”

The Chief’s son eyed the Magus cautiously, and I saw a hint of mockery in his eyes. He leaned forward on the stump, tusks jutting out.

“Magus,” he said in his heavily accented rumble. “I thought the human Magus were all fat and lazy but you are thin as a reed. Tell me human, does the God King not feed his pets?”

Draxus shifted beside me and I resisted the urge to glance at him. Magus Ferris clasped his hands behind his back, his face serene.

“Insults are cheap, as is your wine if you think to goad me. Pettiness aside if you have terms state them now, otherwise we’re wasting precious time.”

The large ork made a rucking sound that I had come to recognize as laughter. He turned his head and said something to one of the others and the creature barked in affirmation.

“Very well, Magus,” he said, slapping a knee. “You wish to discuss terms. Here are mine. Your human city has long been a blight on our lands. Once your people flourished and pushed our borders. You assaulted our towns and villages and took what was not yours. I seek reparation from what was taken.”

Ferris sucked his teeth.

“Yes, I am aware of Kadia’s bloody history. Though neither you, or I were alive during the time of the expansion of the kingdom. In fact many generations have passed since that time so if you are hoping to appeal to my better nature I’m afraid you’ll have to do better.” He gestured at the ragged line of orks behind.

“Your father may have had the following he needed to wage war on the south but you do not. I desire a ceasefire as much as you do but let us not waste time.” Ferris pulled something from his belt, and I saw the flash of metal within.

One of the ork guards jerked forward but The Chief held out his hand to steady them. The sackcloth bounced on the dirt at his feet and the ork stared down at it. Carefully he scooped it up and upended its contents. Silver coins hit the dirt, followed by a helmet of exquisite craftsmanship and a knife with a ruby in the pommel.

I tensed as the ork laughed.

“A bribe?” he asked, his smirk evident. “Is Kadia so desperate?”

The Magus shook his head.

“The bribe isn’t for the ceasefire. Peace is in your best interest, brute, for the alternative is your swift annihilation. If you refuse humanity will hunt your kind to extinction, even if it takes us years. What happened at Ceris will not be easily forgotten. But…”

He paused for emphasis.

“If you take what is offered in exchange for information… then we can walk away from this transaction satisfied.”

Draxus leaned towards me.

“What’s he doing?” he whispered. I glanced away from the pacing Shadow Magus long enough to answer.

“It has to do with what I told him about the Firebrand – what he said to me before he died. There is something bigger going on.”

The Chief’s son snapped his teeth together, seeming to consider the offer. Then he nodded his head.

“I accept your terms,” he said. “So, what is this information you seek?”

Magus Ferris didn’t hesitate.

“The Shadow Magus,” he said. “What is his name and how long has he been with you?”

The ork shrugged, toying with some of the silver coins. I watched them flip over in his hand.

“I do not know his name. Only that he came to my father many moons ago. He offered a trade and my father accepted.”

“What kind of trade?”

The ork glanced up and his eyes narrowed. He turned his head again and barked orders. After a moment of hesitation his guards retreated, leaving the Chief’s son alone. When the ork guards had gone far enough the new Chief sighed.

“The trade was that of assistance,” he said. “My father was born a shaman but his power was never great. The Shadow Magus told him of another power – one beyond war. He said that if my father pledged his life to the service of one greater than he, that he would be rewarded in power and stature.”

“So your father had help wrangling the ork clans?”

The ork nodded, horned helmet clanking.

“He was given enough wealth to purchase the assistance of the outriders, and his power grew. It took him six years to subjugate the clans. A feat that hadn’t been performed since the time of the old rules. He built a mini-empire… and then your kind came and tore it down.”

“It was you who attacked Ceris,” said Ferris cooly. “Your decision cost the lives of hundreds if not thousands. You’ll get no sympathy here.”

The ork bared his tusks.

“I have no desire for your fickle sympathy human. You call me brute but you us, your people are just as barbaric. Parasites on the land eating up all in your path. My mother was killed by human raiders and perhaps it was this that set him on the path.”

Ferris allowed a brief silence before he pressed the Chief for more.

“What do you know of this Magus? Who does he serve?”

The Chief grunted in annoyance.

“Little. He keeps mostly to himself and wanders often. When he is present he makes many demands, most of which my father gave him. I, however, am.. less inclined. As for who he serves? He speaks of the Dark God. The one who blessed him with his powers.”

“Dark God?” Ferris eyebrows drew together. He appeared puzzled, and a brief glance around the circle of humans showed much the same reaction.

“There is no Dark God. Are you certain he wasn’t referring to a demon?”

The ork shrugged again.

“I do not know. All that I know is that he worships this Dark God and that his hatred and the hatred of his followers for your God King is powerful. Perhaps it has something to do with that.”

The ork tilted his head, watching as some of the veterans made a sign to ward off evil.

“I grow weary of this conversation,” he says. “I accepted the terms of your treaty but I have a demand of my own.” His dark eyes slid to me and my skin went cold.

“His head.”

There was a pause that stretched on longer than I would have liked.

Magus Ferris glanced to me and then shook his head.

“Out of the question.”

The Ork stood so suddenly that several of the veteran soldiers flinched back. My hand dropped to my sword but the Chief made no move to close the distance. Magus Ferris hadn’t so much as twitched. Instead he stared up at the Ork, eyes cold and unblinking.

“He is responsible for the death of my father,” growled the Chief’s son. “By his own hand. My right is vengeance and I will have it.”

“I will not give you Ser William.”

“Then I will settle for your head.”

Wind picked up around the Magus, and I watched as water swirled around him, pulled from the air itself. Some of that water solidified and A large ice shard slammed into the ground between the orks large sandled feet. The threat was evident.

“You may try,” said Ferris calmly. “But it will end badly for you.”

The ork Chief stood for a moment, chest rising and falling as he glared hatred at me. A muscle bulged from his neck and after a moment he spat an insult in orkish.

“You,” he said, gesturing towards me. “I curse you, William. You are thus marked an enemy of ork kind. All brethren that look upon you will be compelled to spill your blood. Every ork, goblin, hobgoblin, and hag will hunt you. There will be no rest for you if you enter our lands, not until your head roasts over and open fire and your body drain it’s lifeblood into the earth.”

I glared back, on the cusp of saying something of my own. That’s when my HUD flashed a notification.

You have been cursed. All ork and brethren of ork will enter a frenzy when you are near. Duration: until death.

A sinking feeling tugged at my gut. I had no idea how significant a curse was, but judging by the grim expression on the Magus’s face, I knew it was far from good.

“Are we done here?” asked Ferris, water still swirling about him. The Ork only spat on the ground and turned away. He waved a hand in the air, and as we watched the ork host turned and began to retreat across the plains. The Shadow Magus was the only one left standing, his eyes fixed on Ferris.

“Well,” said Draxus, that was eventful.

“I would say so. Ser William, did something appear to you? A message of any kind.”

I nodded.

“It said I was cursed.”

Ferris swore under his breath, surprising me.

“I thought so. An ork alone shouldn’t have the power to cast a curse… though I suppose if his father was a shaman that would explain it. Still,” he shook his head. “I would be careful if I were you. Inside Kadian borders, you should be safe, as the monsters that roam in our lands are often checked. Outside of those permiters though.. you might find that you have a harder time. It’s entirely possible certain monsters will be able to sense and even be drawn to your presence.”

Draxus barked out a laugh.

“So, it’s just like every other day in the thrice blasted army.”