Chapter 16 #2
Alwyn didn’t stir again for another half hour, but this time when he roused himself, he managed to get to his feet.
Still, Krujha didn’t think he could ride without the risk of falling off.
So without waiting for the stubborn elf to agree, he first lashed the elf’s gelding to his horse, then placed Alwyn in his own saddle.
He climbed up onto the stallion behind him, so his arms encircled the smaller elf as they rode, holding him in place.
“I’m not a child,” Alwyn protested, squirming as if to escape. Krujha ignored him and nudged the horse forward at a sedate pace.
“Just be quiet and rest,” Krujha said. The elf’s half-hearted struggle was almost laughable. “I’ve got you.”
Another faint, indiscernible mumble escaped the elf’s mouth, but he stopped all the same. After a moment, the tension in his body relaxed. His back pressed against Krujha’s chest, as he seemed to doze again, his head lolling slightly with each step of the horse.
His hair smelled warm and sweet from the sun. Krujha closed his eyes, trying not to breathe in too deeply. The elf might have been cute and sleepy, but would probably notice Krujha taking in a deep whiff of his scent, and that would be a conversation he absolutely did not want to have.
Alwyn dozed against his chest for the better part of the day.
Sometime that afternoon, he awoke enough that he was sitting up on his own, instead of leaning against Krujha for support.
Still, sometimes his head would tip forward, or he would list to one side, before jerking back up into a sitting position.
Krujha stifled his laughter, resolving not to tease Alwyn; he had expended so much energy into getting them here that it felt like making fun of him would be in poor taste.
Near sunset, he spotted a hazy trail of smoke in the distance.
From the shape, it looked like two campfires, and not terribly far off.
Krujha hesitated, staring out at them for a long moment.
That was likely a sign that they were getting near enough to a road.
Camping with fellow travelers could bring safety in numbers, but there was no guarantee these travelers might be friendly.
If they had to make a quick escape—a prospect that worried Krujha with the state Alwyn was in—then they would be looking for a place to camp in the dark.
Still, it seemed unlikely they would find anyone overtly hostile this close to Drol Kuggradh. It was worth the risk, he decided, and tugged his horse’s reins in that direction.
Alwyn stirred at the sudden change, looking around blearily. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Krujha said, pointing to the lines of smoke along the horizon. “I think we’re nearly at the road. Those are probably travelers camping for the night, and we’d be safer camping with them if we can.”
Alwyn stiffened, shooting him a disgruntled look over his shoulder. “You think that’s wise?”
“Better hold on tight, in case I’m wrong,” Krujha replied, grinning. Alwyn scowled and turned away, but Krujha couldn’t quite stifle a chuckle. “I think it’ll be fine. I doubt any rebel raiders are traveling on the main roads into Drol Kuggradh, after all.”
After a second, Alwyn relaxed slightly against him. “I suppose that makes sense.” A moment later, he added, “I’d like to ride my own horse, since we’re going to be joining up with a bunch of strangers, if it’s all the same to you.”
“Aw, you won’t let me take credit for saving you?” Krujha laughed, but he pulled back on the reins until his horse came to a stop.
“Thank you,” Alwyn muttered when Krujha helped him down. The orc-bred stallion was far taller than Alwyn was used to, and he was still a little shaky on his feet. “And... thanks for helping me.”
Krujha smiled, a sincere one this time. “I should be thanking you.”
Alwyn glanced away, color rising in his face, then stepped back to untie his horse from the lead connecting it to Krujha’s. “Guess we’re even, then.”
Once he was situated, they continued on; but Krujha kept the same slow pace so he could keep a better eye on Alwyn. He seemed mostly alert now, but he was still quiet and subdued. The last thing he needed was for the elf to doze off again and fall off his horse.
As they drew closer to the smoke, Krujha could make out the scene more clearly: there were two campfires, just as he’d expected, surrounded by two small wagon circles right beside each other.
A little way beyond the camp, he could see the bare, hard-packed dirt of a road.
Relief washed over him; it may not have been the major, paved road, but it meant they were headed in the right direction.
The camp appeared to be mostly orcs, which made sense from the size of the wagons. They looked like merchants, and Krujha hoped there might be at least a few elves, or possibly humans amongst them, just so Alwyn wouldn’t be on edge the entire time.
Alwyn must have been looking for the same thing, because he was the first to speak. “I see humans in their camp. I think they might be transporting livestock.”
They approached slowly, but with no attempt to hide.
Two orcs, sitting by one of the fires, were the first to spot them.
They stood at once, and Krujha watched their hands grasp the pommels of their swords.
But even as the attention of the rest of the travelers centered on them, no one made a move to attack.
One of the humans, who had hopped out of a wagon at the commotion, called out to them.
“Good evening, travelers,” he called in elvish, eyes flickering between them. “Where are you coming from?”
“We’re heading for Drol Kuggradh, though I fear we got a little lost on the way,” Krujha called out before Alwyn could speak. “Would you mind terribly if we camped near you for the night?”
“Come join us,” the human replied, smiling as he beckoned them closer. “We’re leaving the city, so we won’t be able to accompany you beyond tonight, but you’ve at least found the road. Try not to stray from it this time, hm?”
“Your hospitality is greatly appreciated,” Krujha answered, smiling.
When he and Alwyn arrived in the camp, they dismounted and introduced themselves.
The human explained that they were transporting hearty orc-bred sheep to be sold to elven farmers.
The group was mostly orcs, but with three humans acting as translators and caretakers for the livestock; the two orcs who had spotted them were armed guards, and the rest were merchants.
As he and Alwyn led their horses over to where the others were tethered, they bumped into an orc who was filling a small trough with water from a barrel.
Krujha froze, something in him stirring in recognition of the orc’s face.
That was usually a bad sign, and he tensed before realizing that the memory coming back to him was much, much older.
“Jekha?” he gaped, the name coming to him unbidden.
The older orc did a double take, a confused expression crossing his face.
Jekha had not been a blood relative, but part of his clan all the same.
Krujha’s memories of him were hazy, but he remembered the older man had been a fisherman—he could see a much younger version of the man before him, lifting him as a child and throwing him into the sea as he howled in delight.
He had long since thought that all his clan members conscripted into Hrul’s army were dead. He had looked for them in dozens of camps and clans in his years, never considering they might have left orcish lands entirely.
“I’m Jekha,” the man said cautiously in orcish, eyeing Krujha.
He didn’t seem to recognize him, which Krujha could hardly hold against him since he’d been no older than twelve the last time they would have met.
He took a step back, and Krujha noticed he walked with a distinct limp. “Sorry, do I know you?”
“You were in my clan,” Krujha said, hearing his voice waver. “I’m Krujha. Do you remember me?”
Jekha frowned—then recognition dawned on his face. “Gods, that really is you, isn’t it? Krujha. You were a little boy when I left.”
“I thought you were all dead,” he blurted out. “How—how did you come to be here?”
A weary smile crossed the older orc’s face. “Sit by the fire with me, and I’ll tell you. It’s a long story. And this is...?”
He gestured behind Krujha. He realized with a start that Alwyn was looking between them with obvious confusion.
“Sorry, sorry,” he stammered. “This is Alwyn. We’re traveling companions.
We’re heading up to Drol Kuggradh in...” He hesitated, wondering how much he should share.
But this was a man from his own clan, one he’d thought was dead.
Surely, if anyone would be sympathetic to their cause, it would be him. “In the service of Gorza Silvertongue.”
Jekha’s eyebrows raised. He could feel Alwyn tense beside him, but still the elf remained silent. “Sounds like you have quite a story of your own, too. Maybe this is a conversation best saved for after supper, then.”
All Krujha could think about as they settled in the camp was that someone else from his clan was alive. He sat down beside Jekha as supper was served and waited for the orc to recount how he’d ended up here.
Krujha was eager, but Jekha seemed more withdrawn as he ate, as if dreading the retelling. It surely was not a pleasant tale, but Krujha couldn’t stifle how badly he wanted to know everything that had happened to him in the years since their last meeting.
Finally, after sopping up the last bits of a vegetable stew from his bowl using a chunk of hard, crusty bread, Jekha sighed and turned to Krujha. “First, tell me what happened to everyone who was left behind.”
Krujha winced. “The women took me and the other children to Drol Kuggradh. I think they joined up with another clan traveling through then. I stayed in the city and started working there. I haven’t seen them since, so I couldn’t tell you more than that. Sorry.”