29
GATHREN HAD MANAGED to get herself to the lip of the cavern when the tide receded, but she had not managed to get the knots that bound her untied.
She was utterly surprised when a group of orcs came for her, and they cut her free and put her on her feet.
“We come from the brigade led by Hathrak ap Regrish,” they told her, and she recognized the name of her half brother. Hathrak was the legitimate son of the High Chieftain, and she had known him in Arzakh.
They went to the encampment, and she was given her own tent, and she waited for her brother to come to her, but he did not come to her. Instead, she was sent to him.
His tent was in the middle of the encampment, which was set up in rows, all of the tents a deep color of burgundy, like rows of crimson in the setting sun.
His tent looked just like the rest of theirs, even if he was the highest ranking commander with this brigade.
This might have been an attempt to make the men feel he was on their level or it might have been some kind of strategic way to keep the enemy from knowing where the commander’s tent was.
She suspected the former, because there was no enemy to speak of, near as she could see.
Hathrak greeted her warmly, clasping both of her hands and giving her the traditional orc greeting for loved ones. He called her “beloved” in the orc language. She had to admit that felt nice. She hadn’t been welcomed anywhere like this in some time, not even by her own mother.
She felt the orcishness of the place settle around her, too, in a way that was pleasant.
It wasn’t truly like coming home, she didn’t suppose, because her own home had never been very traditionally orcish.
Her family seemed to think that the best way to fit in Lothnehil was to eschew all the orc traditions so as not to stand out.
They even spoke Valaedor at home most of the time.
Gathren had learned the orc language, but it was mostly used when her mother was very angry or whenever she was very sad, as if the language was a retreat for her mother when she was emotional.
After she had gone to Arzakh, however, she had gotten used to the way it felt to be around orcs. It wasn’t a feeling of home, but it was a feeling of belonging, and she did find she was relieved to feel it.
Her brother spoke the orc language, of course.
It was natural for him. She spoke it back, even if she had a very broad elvish accent when she tried.
If she had learned it in Arzakh, perhaps she wouldn’t have, but she had learned it from her mother as a small child, and things learned that young are difficult to change.
“You are not going around telling people you are a princess, I don’t suppose,” said her brother, after they had made their greetings and poured their ale and sat down on the rugs on the floor of his tent.
At first, she had trouble with the orc word for ‘princess,’ because it literally translated as daughter-of-the-buck and she forgot that it was also a word that was used for positions amongst people. But then, she understood, and said, “What? No, definitely not.”
“But people know that about who your father is,” said her brother, “because that it why you are here with me. Some idiot elf tried to negotiate with me to not attack Cirlahir if he traded you to me. He called you a princess.”
She furrowed her brow, unable to make sense of that. “Well, someone must have told him that, I suppose, but it is not something that I am going around telling everyone, I assure you.”
He nodded at her.
“You don’t believe me?” She studied his expression. “You are angry with me?”
“I don’t know that I could be angry with you,” he said, giving her a little smile, one full of affection.
It was true that he was the only person who had treated her like family amongst her father’s people.
Her father had a wife and he had three legitimate children.
Hathrak was not the oldest of her half brothers, not the heir, but he had been overjoyed to have a sister, he had told her, and he had spent time with her during training, and they had been close for time.
“It is only that you are a bit impulsive, beloved. You sometimes do things that I think are deeply dangerous. And I have not understood why you deserted the army. Now that I have you, I must know what happened.”
“Of course,” she said. “Well, it was impulsive.”
“Of course it was.” He chuckled, drinking his ale.
She gave him a wan smile. “I thought I could get the High King killed.” She shrugged.
“I suppose I did do it, at that. I don’t know, however, how much of it was really me and how much of it was because there were wheels already turning.
It was in motion before I got myself into the midst of it. It may have happened without me.”
“You are responsible for the death of Findas?”
“Well, I didn’t do it personally,” she said. “But I was part of it.”
“So, then, where have you been? Where did you go afterward? Have you been held prisoner by the elves in Cirlahir?”
She squirmed, unsure of what to admit to her brother. “No, not prisoner, no.”
“You were there willingly?”
“I went home to my mother,” she said.
He nodded. “Of course.”
“But my mother was not there,” she said. “A dragon had destroyed the family farm—”
“I’m ever so sorry!”
“Well, my mother is now living willingly with the dragon.”
Hathrak’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re making a jest.”
“I only wish I was.” She drank some ale, and she realized how genuinely tired she was, how long it had been since she had felt comfortable enough to rest, really rest. She realized it may have been years.
It may have been sometime before Arzakh.
But even then, even back at home on the farm with her mother and uncle, even then, she had never really felt quite comfortable either.
She tried to think of a place, any place, that had ever felt like a place she could relax.
And she couldn’t think of any place at all, but Iahir’s face danced there, Iahir who she could fall apart in front of, who she could allow to pleasure her, who seemed to accept her no matter what she had done.
Her half brother would not accept that she had been fucking an elf.
“But this explains nothing,” said her brother. “How did you end up in Cirlahir, tied up in that cave?”
She had just gotten finished thinking that her brother would never understand about her and Iahir.
Now, she had to decide what to reveal and what to conceal.
“A member of the kingsguard assisted in killing the High King,” she said.
“We traveled together, and I ended up here with him. He is the next envivtain of Cirlahir.”
“The heir is the one who negotiated with me for you. So, you traveled with this man, and then he betrayed you?”
“No, that’s his brother. But he’s mad, really, out of his head. He thinks he’s three or four different people, all trapped inside his body or something, I don’t know.” She eyed Hathrak. “Are you going to attack Cirlahir?”
“We were never going to attack,” said her brother.
“We threatened, to see if we could get the city emptied of elves, and then we would go in and occupy it. But it was always an empty threat. I saw no reason not to negotiate with that one, however, to get you back, since I assumed you were being treated badly.”
She sighed heavily. “That mad one, Adalir, he did capture me and tie me up and all of that. So, you did rescue me.”
“But you were traveling with the other one, the one from the kingsguard. I have heard his name, because he is rumored to have assassinated the High King. Iahir. I wondered about that when you said you were involved.”
“Well, he did it, but I was there,” she said.
“Why were you with these elves at all?” said Hathrak.
“You remember Dathor?” she said.
“Everyone remembers Dathor.” Hathrak slugged back the rest of his ale. “Did you know that he went back to that keep of his and threw out the orc army and allied with his cousin—because he’s half elf, you know, so he has their blood.”
She furrowed her brow.
“He and the steward of that keep are fighting off the orc army.”
“I thought he killed the steward of the keep.”
“Must have faked it,” said Hathrak. “Must have planned to double-cross us all along.”
“No, it was my fault,” she said. “I sent him home.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know he wanted an alliance.”
“Yes, he’s got that now. He’s an elf sympathizer. He always has been. Always will be, I suppose.”
“I convinced him that we should try to work with the elves for an assassination. We met with a group of elves who opposed Findas, and I told them that if they killed the king, they could then send word to our father and that he would halt an attack for my safety. Which I knew was a lie, but I thought it wouldn’t matter, that I must do whatever I could to take out Findas. ”
“Odd that here I am, negotiating in much the same way for you, however.”
“Except you just said that you were not ever going to attack Cirlahir!”
He laughed, drinking more of his ale.
“Anyway, they had me stay in the castle with Iahir. I was posing as his…” She search for the right orcish word. “Woman,” she finally settled on.
Hathrak set his ale down and surveyed her. “Were you.”
“It was a ruse,” she said.
“But you were travel companions.”
“I don’t know. He sort of followed me around, truly,” she said. “But then I was glad to have him. He has a lot of money, so that was welcome. He could pay for all manner of things.”
Hathrak shrugged. “I suppose.” He got up.
“Well, I will relay what I think is pertinent of this to our father, beloved. You will not be punished as a deserter. And you may have your choice of where you’d like to be stationed.
We are in the middle of talks with the elves now, but we have no intention of giving up the keeps in the north that we have taken.
We think that the southern elves will not care what we do in the north, and we are also intent on having some representation in the government. ”