Sons of Gailland: Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The orc commander turned slowly to face the dark figure approaching him from behind. The black sword wielding silhouette wavered in the light of the fire blazing behind it. Commander Rakjaw confidently brought his own sword out in front of him to meet this new enemy that had apparently made his way into the camp unnoticed. His palms became sweaty as he watched this strange form become clearer as it became slowly closer, no longer distorted by the heat and bright lights of the fire. A torn sneer twisted from his scared lips as the lithe man with unnaturally white hair stepped fully from the shadow of the tents.

Braydin observed his opponents heavily muscled upper body and tree trunk like legs standing before him. This orc had obviously been in many combat situations and wore his many scars with pride. Braydin's eyes focused on the wickedly barbed blade the creature held gleaming viciously in the flickering light of the fires. A chill ran up the sea captain's spine as the orc milky white eye, caused by the same scar that left his teeth visible through his left cheek, fell upon him.

"Surrender your captives and leave this place at once, orc" Braydin said with unbelievable confidence. "Or I will be forced to end your life. It is a simple choice of life or death I'm afraid."

Rakjaw snorted at the rediculous threat. "Bring whatever ill you wish upon me. I am a warrior bound in honor and will meet any challenge you can present, you pale scalped demon," Rakjaw responded. The orc began to say something else but it was muffled by a mouth full of dirt as his face struck the ground.

During the exchange between the orc and Braydin, Kalin had been sneaking around behind the unwitting monster. The bright light of the fire had dilated the eyes of the now confused general and Kalin had taken the distraction as an opportunity to shoulder tackle the orc.
Braydin rushed the orc commander now laying face down in the dirt at his brother’s feet. Kalin and Braydin had their sword tips trained on the orcs throat as he turned over to face this new attacker. The orcs face was still a twisted grin when he faced these two young men who had bested him.

"Do you yield?" Braydin questioned uneasily.

Rakjaw seemed to be studying the brothers, looking slowly from one to the other, evaluating the strengths and weaknesses of each one. His smile broadened as the uneasy brothers looked to each other to decide what to do. In that split second the orc slashed their blades from his throat and rolled backwards to regain his footing.

The brothers were startled at the agility of the muscular orc and both took a step back into defensive stances. Braydin lunged first at the seasoned orc warrior with a flurry of jabs faster than most eyes can follow. Rakjaw parried the attack easily relying on years of experience living by the sword; it was almost instinctual to the commander. The orcs final parry struck low on Braydins sword knocking the young man off balance and spinning him hard to his left. The orc would have finished him then if Kalin hadn’t charged in from the right knocking the orcs blade off target.

Kalin and Rakjaw moved together away from Braydin. Kalin slammed his sword repeatedly into the orcs blade forcing the creature backwards into a defensive flurry. Braydin regained his bearings and charged back into the fight. Braydin once again pressed in on the orcs right side as Kalin fought in vain to hold the left. Rakjaw twisted his wrist to an extreme angle and hooked Kalins blade with the hooked barb at the end of his own sword. Rakjaw pushed and then pulled with his mighty arm throwing the larger of the two brothers off balance. Kalin released his sword but the damage had already been done. Kalin watched his sword fly out into the darkness as he crashed into his brother, causing them to both land in a heap on the ground.

Rakjaw used the distraction to call for help before he began a low chant in the guttural orcish tongue. The orc finished his chant as the brothers regained their feet and a handful of other orcs from the camp came to investigate the problem. Rakjaw laughed hysterically as he drew the barbed sword over his open palm. Blood flowed freely from the fresh wound winding itself into a long ropelike chord resembling the braids in the orcs top knot.

Anger boiled in Kalins veins as the orc taunted him and his brother. To Kalins surprise Braydin charged Rakjaw with his sword leveled at the disgusting creature’s heart. Rakjaw smiled to himself knowing that he had goaded the two impetuous youths to their death. He unleashed the blood whip as Braydin came into range, wrapping it several times around his neck.

Braydin stopped in his tracks and he began to hack wildly at the blood whip but the blade only passed through with no effect. His face began to redden and dark veins began tracing up his neck and forehead. Kalin was intercepted by the orcs responding to Rakjaws calls for help. Kalin let a monstrous scream of his own as he watched his brother thrash on the ground before him fighting for air with this behemoth orc laughing over the sight.

Kalin rushed at the nearest orc who was petrified with fear of the large human he now faced. Six orc in all stood between Kalin and Rakjaw. Kalin smashed the first orcs face in with a sickening thud as he passed catching another in his now bloodied fist. The second orcs arm shattered with a quick twist and his screams were stifled by a strong forearm chop to the throat. Kalin made short work of two more orcs before convincing the remaining two to return to camp for reinforcements.

Rakjaw's laughter ended abruptly as Kalins large fist closed on his throat. The orc was startled and confused. How had this youth dispatched four warriors and closed such a distance in a matter of seconds. Rakjaw's lack of concentration caused the blood whip to fall limp long enough for Braydin to claw the noose from his neck. Kalin watched Rakjaws eyes narrow as his life began to fade. Kalin looked over his shoulder to check on his brother now coughing and gagging on all fours behind him. Kalin looked back to the orc only to be greeted once more by the morbid grin on its face, followed by cold pain in his stomach.

Braydins eyes widened as he saw Rakjaws blade burried halfway in his brothers stomach. Braydin vomited as Kalin was lifted from the ground by the force of Rakjaws attack before falling quickly to his knees. Braydin jumped to his feet as Kalin kneeled before this vicious orc.

Rakjaw stared down at his latest victim kneeling with one hand gripping tightly to the blade driven through his armor and the other grasping in futility at the air. He admired the strength of this man, his determination. Rakjaw looked upon Kalin with his malicious grin once more.
"Any last words before I finish this?" he asked Kalin as blood spurted from the young mans lips.

Kalins eyes narrowed and his mouth began to turn up at the corners as he nodded. Rakjaw tilted his head curiously as he observed the dying man."What do you have to say for yourself boy?" Rakjaw bellowed becoming angry.

Kalin stared deep into the orcs eyes and whispered "Elewhynne."

Rakjaw had no chance to react as a tear shaped bubble of air slammed into his face splitting his lower jaw in half and spewing pointed teeth in all directions. The proud orc commander stumbled backwards a few steps as his lower jaw hung loose from his head and his blood dripping tounge flopped onto his chest. The commanders fell backwards, with a heavy thud, never to rise again.

Braydin rushed to his brother’s side and helpped him lay down on his back. Braydin brushed the dark hair from his brother’s face. "You can’t leave me little brother. We havent finished our buisiness," Braydin choked on his tears as he stroked his brothers pale face.

The little gnome approached the brothers and examined the extent of the wounds quickly. Braydin looked to the little man with tearful pleading eyes, but no words would come to him. He just hugged tightly to Kalins head as the blood pooled at his knees.

"Give him to us," the little gnome said “We may be able to help him."Suddenly Braydin realized he was surrounded by the little people, and backed away from his brother lying motionless on the grass."It’s the least we can do for our saviors," the gnome said with a shrug as a few of the others carried Kalin to one of the huts lining the fires.

"Thank you," Braydin managed as the gnome helped him stand.

Braydin and the gnome both jumped as the trees on the forest line began to shake and crack and fall. Braydin grabbed his sword from the ground and readied himself for what might emerge from the forest but he knew he didn’t even have the strength to face even a lone orc. Suddenly the closest trees gave way and one of the large mechanical walkers they had encountered before tumbled into sight rolling across the hard dusty ground. Steam spewed from the legs and arms of the unmanned vehicle and it shuddered one last time before coming to rest an arm’s length away from Braydin and the gnome.

Marco and Thorn emerged from the woods shortly after slapping one another’s back and giving congratulations on their victory. Braydin stood with his hands on his hips as the twins walked up to him. Noticing the stern expression on their captain’s face, Marco looked at Thorn then back to Braydin before scratching his head in confusion. The brothers waited a few moments in silence before asking in unison, "What'd we miss?"
. . .

Braydin paced slowly outside of the small hut in the center of the gnomish village. The little people scurried about all around him tending to their daily business, trying to reclaim some semblance of their once normal life on this tiny island. Braydin watched them gathering clothing in large baskets to be cleaned at the river and children kicking a ball through one of the crude alleys between the small huts. He smiled to himself remembering how easy life had been before starting this endeavor. Airicka poked her head out of the small hut and motioned for Braydin to join her in the little building. He walked cautiously to the door fearing what the people inside might have to say about the fate of his younger brother. Once he had steeled himself he gave a gentle tug on the knotted rope door handle and entered the gloomy structure.
Airicka came up and put a comforting hand on Braydin's shoulder. He covered her hand with his and gave a solemn nod of understanding. She was enamored by Kalin and now she was probably as worried as he had been when he saw him skewered by that orc.

"Is he going to make it?" was the only thing Braydin could force past his lips.

"He is showing signs of improvement and he is strong, but it will take time for him to heal," Airicka answered as tears welled up in her eyes.

"How much time?" Braydin asked. "That is one thing we are running short on."

A little gnome with a long scraggily white beard approached Braydin and took him by the hand. Braydins eyes widened as the little man began leading him from the room. He looked to Airicka who only nodded and then looked to the floor quietly as Braydin was taken outside. Once through the door the little man let go of Braydins hand and began walking toward a small path leading to the mountain.

"Follow me young man of the kingdom. We must speak of things to come," was the only thing the little man said as he walked away. Braydin began to question the little man but thought better of it and began walking along side him. They walked a long time in silence before the small man stopped and looked at Braydin.

"I am Gyemhal, oldest of the gnomes here. I am certain you have many questions concerning the extinct peoples you walk amongst and I will attempt to answer them as best I can," the small man paused as if to let Braydin soak in what he had heard. "You are familiar with our kind? You wear the armor of our ancestors and it carries with it the lost magic of combat."

Braydin smiled briefly at the small man as he remembered the tales of his father and those that accompanied him to dispatch a threat to the kingdom many years ago. "Yes Gyemhal, I am familiar with one of your kind. My brother and I were practically raised with our dear friend Archy. He is the one who crafted and enchanted this fine armor for us."

It was now the gnomes turn to stare at Braydin with his mouth agape. The little man raised his hands to his eyes and began to weep with tears of joy. This went on for several minutes while Braydin stood uncomfortably to one side.

"You must leave this place and be on with your mission." The little man said flatly as he once again gained his composure.

"I won’t leave my brother here alone, no matter the cost to the kingdom!" Braydin snapped

"You must or your kingdom will be as mine. We were not a fighting people when those men came so long ago seeking shelter in our camp. They taught us how to turn our magic to defend ourselves against the orcs. We are a very productive people. It was rumored that our king Thannor sent his only son Archibald with the humans to protect him and one day return to bring our people into greatness," Gyemhal said in his sternest tone. "Now you have come chasing an enemy from across the great waters just as they have, armed with this strong gnomish magic. It cannot be coincidence."

Braydin first scoffed at the idea of Archy being a long lost gnomish king, then everything began to fall into place from the armor to the stories of his father and his companions. "I am not familiar with this island how will I return to reclaim my brother after this business is finished?"
The little mans laughter unnerved Bryadin, it was youthful and light and didn’t fit the old mans appearance."This is no island young sea fearer," the gnome explained. "This is Atlus the greatest mechanical invention of the gnomes. When we were a great nation Thannor had it created to map the entire world. The plants and animals you see here have been collected from all over the world and transplanted here by three generations of gnomes."

"Impossible!" Braydin said.

"I thought you might say that," the little gnome scoffed. "Follow me then," Gyemhal said with a grin as he lifted a rock and began walking down the steep stairs beneath it.

Braydin stared in amazement as he watched the small man disappear into the ground. He quickly followed the gnome into the underground workings of the island. Gyemhal gave him the complete tour from the clockwork mechanics to the intricate pneumatic propulsion system. The gnome explained that the island was basically a large mechanical turtle with the head as the ships bridge for navigation and four large pneumatic paddles or fins to move the island in the desired direction. The volcanic mountain was actually the exhausted from the used steam that powered the entire contraption. Braydins head was spinning from all of the sights and spectacles he had witnessed by the time they exited from another rock near the site of the confrontation with Rakjaw.

Gyemal said, "You must leave with all haste. Leave Airicka here to help tend to your brother, she is an adept healer, and she will be little help to you in a battle if she is distraught and worrying for your brother."

Grudgingly Braydin nodded in agreement as he walked into the tiny shanty of a town. "What about my ship? It is in no shape to make sail, even in the best conditions."

Gyemhal shook his head smiling, "We gnomes are an industrious people young Braydin. You and your friends have been here on the island for seven days you now have two ships, one is the Mare and the other is named Rancor and both are sea worthy and very fine if you ask my opinion. The smelters and metal smiths did a fine job refitting them for you and your crew, all you must do now is name another of your crewmembers captain of Rancor and be on your way."

Braydin smiled from ear to ear at the news. Then his smile faded "metal smiths?" he asked.

Gyemhal smiled and simply nodded his head. "Someone will show you how to operate the cannons before you leave."

Braydin shrugged as they entered the center of town. His silver whistle emerged from his pocket as he pursed his lips the three shrill bursts rang out through the boughs of Atlus.