Age of the Gods: The Complete, twelve novel, fantasy series (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga) (156 page)

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.

For more than two hours he just sat watching her sit across from him with a blank stare on her face. She was still in there. He knew she was. He talked to her every day. He could not do what the shaman said. He could not kill her, not if she could recover. She just needed more time. So he waited.

The entire night passed and Jen did not move. Day came and she did not sleep. Still Gnak watched. It was three hours past dark again when she shuddered suddenly, her eyes blinking rapidly.

“Hi, Gnak,” Jen said, her voice filled with cheer.

The wheezing had returned. Gnak figured it was because there were not enough maggots to fill the holes in her chest and back. He tried to smile at her, but he choked upon the false action, a sob escaping him.

“Gnak. What’s the matter?” she asked, rushing to his side.

“I fail you. You not live. Inside dead. Shaman no fix. Soon you die.” Gnak managed through his emotions.

“Gnak. What’s the matter?” she asked, and Gnak looked to her tiny confused face.

She had forgotten what had happened just seconds before. He wondered if she would be lucid ever again. Or at least,
this
lucid. Pulling her into his arms he stroked her tiny head, appalled as a piece of her scalp tore away, the hair becoming tangled in his fingers. Removing it from his hand without her noticing, as a means to not startle her, he pushed her back away from his chest and looked into her large eyes.

“Gnak no good. Gnak sorry fail. I take Jen away. Stay with. You die.” He laid out his plan.

Staring into his, face she didn’t even blink. She had disappeared again.

“You go sleep…”Gnak began, but before he could finish she rose from his lap and stalked across the tent, plopping herself down upon the pile of furs opposite him.

“Jen?”

No answer.

So his decision was made. When light came in the morning and most Orcs took to their tents for rest, he would take her into the woods to the north upon the mountainside. There he would stay with her until she died. Again.

He never slept that night, instead watching the small girl slumber,
if
that’s what she did. He pondered where he had went wrong, thinking that perhaps she had been right again. Maybe he
had
angered the goddess by not working to carry out his end of the bargain. Maybe he had brought her back incorrectly. Maybe she had been dead too long when he brought her back. He had no way to be sure. All he was certain of was his failure.

He had failed to let her return home when she had asked after saving his life. He had failed to give her the riches he promised. He had failed her by allowing her to be captured by his peers. He had failed her by allowing one of them to kill her. Again he had failed her by using his gift, given by a god, improperly. And now he would fail her again, as again she had to die, because of him. It was a dark and empty feeling that lasted for hours, but while he dwelled upon his failures the day had come.

Angered with himself, he left the tent and set about gathering supplies. Stomping from place to place, he gathered a leather sack and stuffed it full of meat, rope, and a skin filled with water. Returning to his tent, he rolled Jen in the fur she slept upon and carried her from his home, snatching up a spear as he left. With the sun blazing, he crossed the miles of sand until he reached the grassy land beyond. Then, further still he hiked into the forest at the base of the mountains.