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Authors: Monica Luke

WORRLGENHALL (122 page)

BOOK: WORRLGENHALL
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      “Look!” Loth yelled, when he noticed men suddenly riding in behind those who still fought on for Hemrock, not knowing their king abandoned them, “That looks like Belon’s commander.”

 

**

 

       While the priest spoke words over Ogorec, Ovfren burst inside the tent and fell to his knees beside him. Ogorec’s body trembling, he was drenched in sweat and cold to the touch, but his eyes opened.

 
      “Ogorec!”

 
      “Ovfren,” Ogorec rasped.

 
      “Do not die,” he said, as he grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard and put his hand on his cheek.

 
      “I do not want to, yet I fear…”

 
      Ovfren wouldn’t let him finish whatever he was about to say, and began to weep.

 
      “I shall drink what you drank and leave this life with you,” his vow, “Or fall on my sword and lay across you.”

 
      Ogorec pulled his hand away, then stalled by another shiver and violent tremble, groaned and grabbed his stomach.

 
      “We must find a healer.”

 
      “I am to gone for a healer, and that is why the priest is here.” Ogorec knew, again able to speak.

 
      Ovfren saw the skin filled pouch, and grabbed it to drink from and die with Ogorec.

 
      “I know he is seeded within you,” his weakened voice found its strength, “You will not.”

 
      “Ogorec,” Ovfren didn’t know how to reply, “I…I…”


I release you from your bond to me,” he said, “You will not take your life for my sake. I release you to him, Ovfren.”

Again, Ovf
ren grabbed Ogorec’s hand, and put his head into it weeping loudly, then when Ogorec put his other hand on the top of his head, Ovfren looked up.


Such a joy it was to love you,” was Ogorec’s faint words into Ovfren’s ear with a soft kiss, and his last.

 

**

 

       The men of Hemrock surrendered when they saw the men charging towards them with the banner of Ivodgald flying high, and their king’s body draped across a horse.

 
      “Men of Hemrock!” Laad shouted, “Bend your knees.”

 
      Obeying all fell to their knees, but as Enek rode by, he barely noticed because only one was on his mind, which was Ovfren.

 
      “Where is he?” Enek asked Loth when he reached the top.

 
      “In the tent but…”

 
      Enek paused.

 
      “He is inside with Ogorec, who was poisoned.”

 
      “Which tent?”

 
      “…middle one behind the slings.”

 
      When Enek rushed off, Laad gave Loth a questioning look. “I know, and I will speak all when fitting.”

 
      Hyal jumped from his horse and looked at both of them, then nodded respectively.

 
      “The king.” He scowled, while handing over King Gegorad.

 
      “Is he dead?”

 
      “He breathes,” Hyal commented indifferent.

 
      “Get him off the horse and lay him on the ground,” Laad ordered.

 
      Hyal noticed Enek hastily walking towards the slings, and about to follow Loth stopped him. “Now would not be the time to follow him.”

 
      Hyal, looked at him oddly, but gathered he knew something he didn’t, nodded and went back to his horse.

 
      Quietly, Enek walked into the tent and saw Ovfren sitting beside Ogorec holding his lifeless hand.

 
      Slowly, he walked over to him and stood; then when Ovfren looked up, his gray eyes blood red from a violent flood of tears, he cupped his chin with his hand.

 
      “Mourn for him,” Enek softly said, then turned and walked out.

 
      When Belon looked up, he noticed the tell tale signs of death by the number of vultures circling above and knew it was great.

 
      “This is as far as you ride,” Belon’s words to Aderac.

 
      Aderac nodded offering no argument and closed his eyes waiting for his parting kiss, and as he tenderly felt his love’s lips to his, he touched the back of his head.

 
      “Let the might of Raudgred be a powerful as your love for me.”

 
      The vultures hungry for the dead men of Hemrock piled it mounds, they would not get the pleasure to feast on those from Worrlgen, as quickly all able gathered the bodies to send them on their way with honor.

 
      When Belon rounded the ridge with sword drawn, he expected to see men engaging in a fierce battle, but relaxed when he saw only the defeated from Hemrock gathered waiting for someone to decide to put them to death, or sell them into slavery.

 
      “Have King Aderac ride in,” he shouted to one of his men, and rode ahead.

 
      After Belon ascended the mound, and noticed Baric and Ogorec not standing next Laad and Loth, sorrow immediately replaced the blood that flowed within his veins and consumed his whole body.

 
      “Is the king dead?”

 
      “He lives…”

 
      Belon exhaled relieved, but from the expressions on their faces immediately tensed again. “Is he?”

 
      “He is.”

 
      When Laad answered, Belon’s eyes slammed shut like a heavily closed vault, only to slowly open glossy, but he held back his tears.

 
      “Where?”

 
      “He is in the largest tent behind the slings.”

 
      As if his long muscular legs were as heavy as anchors, he forced them to carry him to Ogorec, then once there he pulled back the tent’s flap noticing Ovfren, who at once stood and moved out of the way weeping.

 
      Slowly, Belon walked to Ogorec, who merely looked as if he was sleeping; then, as if he would disappear if he touched him to quickly. After he again glanced at Ovfren, who looked away and lowered his head, although, he swore never to put his lips to Ogorec’s again, bid goodbye to him with a kiss upon his forehead.

 
      “Farewell, my friend,” he whispered; cleared his throat, turned, and left.

 
      When Aderac rode into camp, he already knew by the look on their faces and avoided gaze, that either Baric or Ogorec had died.

 
      “Where is Belon?”

 
      “He is inside the tent.”

 
      Since Belon wasn’t with them and inside the tent, he knew it was Ogorec. “How?”

 
      “Poison?”

 
      “And my cousin?”

 
      “He was poisoned too, but did not drink as much and lived; yet, he trembles much in his sleep.”

 
      Aderac looked up and rushed off when he saw Belon walking towards him.

 
      “Honey,” he said softly, as he leaped off his horse.

 
      Belon put his arms around him and Aderac dug his chin into his shoulder. “I am sorry for his loss, and the loss of your friend.”

 
      “Fate is fate,” Belon replied, as he looked at Aderac exhaling hard.

 
      “Yes, fate is fate,” Aderac agreed.

 
      Belon eyes lifted to Laad and Loth behind them, causing Aderac to turn. “I must see my cousin.”

 
      When Aderac walked inside the tent, he honored Ogorec by bowing his head to him.

 
      “Stay strong young Ovfren and should you wish it, Ivodgald’s doors are open to you. It would be an honor to have you as one of my commanders,” he said with sympathy; then went to Baric.

 
      After he put his hand on his forehead, he opened his mouth and looked at his tongue, gums; then he opened his lids, and looked into his eyes.

 
      As if he was an actual healer, Aderac had the men gather garlic cloves, honey, ginger, cinnamon, and resin, along with only fresh grass. Then, when he had all of it, crushed them and had them make everyone who drank the ale ingest it and keep it down.

 
      “Poisoned twice with the same root leaves will leave him with a weakened heart, “Aderac knew. “But, he will live.”

 

**

 

       Relieved he would not die; Laad and Loth again diverted their attention back the matter of dealing with the captured king and his surrendered men, and although Laad was Lord Helm and in sole charge, he sought Aderac’s guidance.

 
      “I believe we should send him back to Hemrock,” Aderac glared at King Gegorad who was now awake, and bound, “But, not all of him.”

 
      “Which part shall we send?”

 
      “Send his head and the right hand his ring is on,” Aderac answered, “Let them know their king and their kingdom have fallen and the people are to bend their knees to Worrlgen or all be slain.”

 
      “And of his men?”

 
      Aderac looked out at them. “Execute every fifth man, and sell the others into slavery.”

 
      Loth looked at Laad with surprise. They always thought of Aderac as rather soft, but when it came to showing all who ruled and had the upper hand, he could be rather merciless.

 
      “Yes, King.”

 
      “And…”

 
      Laad turned waiting for his next command.

 
      “Ronegavlaad,” Aderac casually said as if all had called him by that name all his life, “You will reign on the throne until my cousin is well again.”

 
      Laad shot Loth a glance, then bowed his head, and just as Aderac suspected when he said his name, noticed how he didn’t seem surprised to hear it.

 
      When they walked away, Belon looked at Aderac puzzled. “Whose name was that?”

 
      Aderac touched his face knowing now was not the time. “I shall reveal what I have learned on our journey back to Ivodgald.”

 

**

 

       The pyres littered the plains, as the men of Worrlgen from high guild to footman honored the dead by cutting their palms and letting their blood flow onto them before setting them on fire. Then as the bodies burned, the horns and drums sounded.

 
      As Ovfren stood and watched, Enek kept his distance. Then when the fires began to burn down, he went to him.

 
      Standing looking out deep in thought, quietly Enek got beside him and waited for him to speak first, then after a long while he finally felt Ovfren’s fingers slowly intertwine with his and close.

 
      When they did, Enek’s head slowly turned, and he looked down noticing Ovfren looking up him and without speaking, Enek bent to kiss his lips.

 
      “When you are ready,” Enek then softly said after he did, “We will go.”

 
      “Where will we go?” Ovfren asked, tightening his grip in Enek’s hand.

 
      “Home…”

 

The Beginning

 

BOOK: WORRLGENHALL
11.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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