Maelstrom Page 3

"It is what comes with being powerful," said Shaluhk. "They fear you, while at the same time they covet your power. As you said previously, the family spent years trying to produce a mage of your capabilities. You slipped from their grasp, and they are eager to get you back."

  "Or Oswyn, and therein lies the problem. While the family is still out there, she'll never be safe."

  "No one here will ever let anything happen to your daughter, sister-mine. She is of the Red Hand now, and nothing can change that."

  "You're right, of course," said Natalia. "Yet here we are, still seeking legitimacy in the eyes of the Petty Kingdoms even as the family influences the courts of kings."

  "It is an uphill battle, as your Athgar would say. A difficult journey, but not an impossible one, and a path we will travel together." They rounded a corner to find themselves facing their temporary lodgings. "Ah, here we are at last."

  "Finally," said Kargen. "I am looking forward to what Skora has prepared."

  They stepped inside to the scent of roasting meat. The great Orc chieftain's stomach gurgled, leading Oswyn to giggle hysterically. So intense was the laughter that the others felt compelled to join in.

  "Come," said Athgar. "Let's find out what we have waiting for us, shall we?"

  Skora soon appeared. "We cleared away the table in the dining hall. Better to eat, I think, in the Therengian style than that of the Petty Kingdoms, wouldn't you agree?"

  They took seats on the floor in a rough circle. Skora directed several youths to pour wine and hand out the food. Serving at what passed for the court of the High Thane was considered a great honour, and many of them would soon be old enough to join the fyrd. How better to learn of the rulers of Therengia?

  Athgar waited until everyone's cups were full before raising his on high. "Let us drink to absent friends," he said, "and to those who carry on in their absence." He paused. "To Artoch."

  "And Uhdrig," added Shaluhk.

  "And all the others who made this day possible," said Kargen. "May they now enjoy the fruits of their labours."

  Home

  Spring 1108 SR

  * * *

  Agar pulled back on the bowstring, lining up his target.

  "Now let fly," said Laruhk.

  The young Orc loosed his arrow, watching as it sailed forth to narrowly miss the tree. He stomped his foot in frustration.

  "I will never master this thing," the young Orc complained.

  "You must have patience. The bow is not a weapon that comes easily."

  "Yet it is the lifeblood of our tribe, and I am unable to wield it. I will disappoint my father."

  "You disappoint no one," said Laruhk. "Your father, like you, did not take easily to the bow."

  "That surprises me. Was he not a great hunter?"

  "He can use a bow when needed, but it is not his calling. Now, give him an axe, and there is none who can outfight him."

  "Did he use a bow as a youngling?"

  "He did, or at least he tried to, but some Orcs develop later in life."

  Agar stiffened. "Are you saying he was weak?"

  "Not at all, merely that his strengths lay elsewhere. Your father is a natural leader, and that is something quite rare. You likely do not remember, but he led us here, crossing a hostile kingdom and vicious mountains to bring the tribe to safety. Very few could have accomplished that feat. I have no doubt had it not been for your father, we all would have perished."

  "I did not know that. He never told me he led the great migration."

  "Nor would he, for he is not a boastful individual."

  "And what of my mother? Did she learn to use the bow?"

  Laruhk laughed. "Shaluhk is a greater hunter than I, although I will deny it if you ever bring it up in front of her."

  "Then why does she no longer hunt?"

  "She gave it all up to become a shaman. My sister felt it more important to employ her magic to serve the tribe."

  "And where do I fit in?" asked Agar. "Am I to be a leader, like my father, or a shaman, like Mother?"

  "That is a path only you can decide," said Laruhk. "The Ancestors tell us each Orc must find their own trail in life, but you are still young. There is plenty of time before you decide on your future."

  "What of my ordeal?"

  "Your ordeal? Is that what is bothering you? It is years away!"

  "I heard other younglings talking of it. They say it is a most dangerous rite of passage."

  "They are saying those things to frighten you. What do you truly know of the ordeal?"

  Agar cast his gaze downward. "Not much."

  "Then let me put your mind at rest. The idea behind the ordeal is to make sure you can help provide for the tribe. When you are ready to become a full member of the tribe, you will be sent into the wilderness to survive on your own for a ten-day."

  "And will I be allowed weapons?"

  "Yes," said Laruhk. "Each tribe is different, but in the Red Hand, we allow a knife, axe, and bow."

  "And arrows?"

  "Of course, but that is years away, and no one would expect you to undertake your ordeal without preparation and training."

  "What was your ordeal like?"

  "Quite boring, actually. As an already accomplished hunter, it was a simple matter of hunting and building fires to stay warm."

  "I can make a fire," said Agar.

  Laruhk laughed until he noted the serious look on the youngling's face. The sight sobered him. "You can?"

  "Shall I show you?"

  "Yes. This is something I need to see. Not that I do not trust you, Agar, but such a skill is rare in one so young."

  Agar began gathering wood. Laruhk watched as his sister's son created a pile around some loose moss before selecting a pair of sticks. He stood one atop the other and began rotating it, and within moments, a thin smoke began drifting up. It didn't take long to ignite the moss, then Agar carefully tended the embers until a strong fire erupted.

  "There, you see?" the youngling said, proud of his achievement.

  Laruhk stared at the fire, not quite believing his eyes. He looked back at his nephew. "How old did you say you were? Thirty-two?"

  Agar laughed.

  "What is so funny?" came the voice of Ushog. Laruhk turned his head, a smile breaking out as his bondmate approached.

  "Agar was showing me how he builds a fire."

  "Very funny," she said. "You made that fire, Laruhk, not Agar."

  "No. I swear it was Agar."

  "Then he has tricked you. It is a common practice amongst younglings to make fun of their elders."

  "I watched him the entire time," Laruhk insisted.

  The earnestness of his features sobered her. "Truly?"

  "See for yourself." He turned to Agar. "Can you show Ushog how well you make a fire?"

  "Of course," replied the youngling, who then went to gather more sticks, carrying him out of earshot of the two adults.

  "How is this possible?" asked Ushog.

  "I believe he has the gift."

  "Of fire? How can that be? Kargen is no master of flame, and Shaluhk is a shaman. From where would he gain this ability?"

  "Remember two years ago when Athgar's sister Ethwyn came to us and then stole Oswyn? Agar tried to stop her, and she used her magic to set him aflame."

  "Yes," said Ushog, "but how would that explain his gift?"

  "It is said great power can be released when someone suffers. You must admit there are few things worse than the thought of being set alight."

  "But he has seen only four winters. Is that not too young to show such an inclination?"

  "He is showing an ability with fire, not manifesting magic."

  "Manifesting?" said Ushog.

  "Yes. It is a term Nat-Alia uses. When someone has the potential to use magic, there are often signs of their ability. This is one such sign."

  "And if this were true, when would he actually be able to wield magic?"

  "Likely not till he comes of age. Shaluhk showed a capacity for magic when she turned twelve and was taken under the tutelage of Uhdrig, our shaman at the time. She did not master her first spell until her thirteenth year." He chuckled. "I can still remember how much it scared her."

  "Why?" said Ushog. "What was it?"

  "She spoke with the spirits of the Ancestors. I do not believe she expected to see ghosts."

  "What else would she think would happen?"

  Laruhk shrugged. "Who can say? She was still a youngling—we both were. Can you say you were any different at that age?"

  "No, I suppose not. Very well, what do we do about this?"

  "About what?"

  "About Agar's propensity for fire. Do we tell Kargen?"

  "I think I shall tell Shaluhk first. I have known her longer."

  "Of course you have. She is your sister."

  "Yes, but as her older brother, I feel I owe it to her."

  "You are twins," said Ushog. "You are the same age."

  "That is one way of looking at it, but I still came out first."

  Ushog shook her head. "Did you? I sometimes wonder."

  * * *

  Shaluhk spooned the porridge into Oswyn's mouth. "There, there," she soothed, speaking in the Orcish tongue. The child stared back, her gaze firmly fixed on the shaman's face.

  "She loves you," said Natalia. "How is it that you can get her to eat that, while I can't?"

  "Maybe she prefers us to speak in our native tongue? Your Orc is getting better. You should give it a try."

  "I believe I shall." She watched as her daughter swallowed, then giggled. "Thank you for doing this," Natalia continued. "I've been so worn out since our return from Ebenstadt."

  "It is understandable, considering all you have been up to. Besides, Oswyn is no bother at all."

  Skora appeared, bearing two wooden cups. "I thought you two might like something to drink."

  "Yes, thank you," said Natalia.

  The old woman set the drinks down and stared at Oswyn. "She has a very happy soul. I can't remember a child so full of life."

  "Was Athgar like that?"

  "Not with a younger sister to take care of, he wasn't. I've discovered, over the years, there is nothing more inclined to kill the joy of early life than having a younger sibling."

  "That's a rather gloomy way of looking at things."

  Skora shrugged. "It's merely an observation. I speak in generalities, of course."

  "Have you known no siblings who got along?"

  "A few, but it was the exception, not the rule. Not to say they would argue or anything, rather that the older child invariably becomes responsible for those younger. It matures a person quickly, too quickly, if you ask me. Parents should take more care not to steal their offspring's childhood."

  Natalia turned to Shaluhk. "What about you? Would you agree with Skora's assessment?"

  "It is rare amongst Orcs of our tribe to have more than one youngling."

  "You have Laruhk."

  "Yes, but we are twins, not separate births."

  "Does Laruhk know that?"

  Shaluhk laughed. "He always claims to be the oldest, yet somehow I became the responsible one."

  "Perhaps he'll settle down now he's bonded."

  "We can only hope."

  Laruhk's voice echoed throughout the hut. "Shaluhk? Are you there?"

  "In here," the shaman replied.

  He entered, with Ushog following him in. They both looked uncomfortable as if they were hiding something.

  "Well?" said Shaluhk. "Why are you just standing there? If you have something to get off your mind, then say it."

  "I need to speak to you," said Laruhk, "about Agar."

  "What about Agar? He has not been hurt, has he?"

  "No, nothing of the sort." He looked around the hut, his eyes taking in the presence of Natalia. "Should I come back later?"

  "No. You can speak freely. We are all family here."

  Laruhk sat down, Ushog by his side, holding his hand.

  "Well?" said Shaluhk. "Out with it."

  "I am of the opinion Agar is… gifted."

  "Gifted?"

  "Yes, I believe he has it within him to become a master of flame."

  Shaluhk laughed. "He is still a youngling, Brother."

  "Yes, but he shows a remarkable capacity for making fire, and you know what they say about great suffering…" His voice trailed off as he read the pain in his sister's face. Natalia expected a quick rebuke, but the shaman turned to face her instead.

  "What do you think, Nat-Alia? Could my brother be correct?"

  "It's difficult to say. I started manifesting before I was six, which is considered rare for Humans. Admittedly, Agar is four, but he's more akin to an eight-year-old in Human terms. It's within the realm of possibility that what Laruhk suggests is true."

  "And if it is, what do we do about it?"

  "I would suggest Athgar talk with him. He must be apprised of the dangers."

  "Dangers?" said Shaluhk.

  "I had an affinity for water," explained Natalia, "but other than calming flowing rivers or calling fish, there was little I could affect. A future master of flame, however, is far more likely to inadvertently start a fire."

  "You believe that likely?"

  "At such a young age, there is little control, but Agar is bright. If we talk to him of what is transpiring, I'm sure he could easily learn to control his urges."

  "Urges?"

  "Yes. Sorry, aside from Athgar, my knowledge of Fire Magic is limited to what they taught us at the Volstrum. There, we learned practitioners of pyromancy are particularly prone to the power of fire. As one of the most destructive schools of magic to learn, without proper training, many students end up…" Natalia's voice trailed off.

  "You are talking of self-immolation," said Shaluhk. "The concept is not unknown to me. Even Athgar almost succumbed to such a fate. Had you not been there that day, he would have perished."

  "I still don't understand how I saved him," said Natalia, "nor can I bear to think of the ramifications had I failed."

  "Amongst the Orcs, the tradition is different. A master of flame will take an apprentice as soon as one demonstrates the potential, but this is typically at a much older age than Agar is now."

  "Artoch would know what to do. He showed Athgar how to harness his inner flame."

  "Then I shall call for his spirit to guide me," said Shaluhk.

  "Do you want me to talk to Athgar?"

  "Do you think he would be amenable to the idea?"

  Natalia smiled. "I think he would be thrilled."

  "Then please do."

  "When would you like to start?"

  "How about right now? It appears Oswyn has drifted off to sleep." Shaluhk looked around the room. "Skora? Would you take her?"

  "Of course," replied the old woman. "It would be my pleasure."

  * * *

  Agar stepped into the room to see the High Thane staring into the fire.

  "Come in," said Athgar. "Take a seat opposite me."

  "Mother said I was to speak to you," said the youngling, "although she did not say why. Am I in trouble?"

  "Not in the least. How has your day gone so far?"

  "As usual as any other?"

  "Laruhk tells me you know how to create a fire. That's quite the accomplishment for an Orc of your years."

  Agar shrugged, looking for a moment just like his uncle. "It is nothing."

  "On the contrary," Athgar continued. "It's quite a significant feat. You should be proud of your accomplishments. Are there any other skills you have that you'd like to share?"

  "Like what? That I speak the common tongue of Humans in addition to my own? Almost the entire tribe can do that."

  "Tell me what you think of fire."

  The youngling stared across at Athgar. "I do not understand. You ask me to speak of flames—they are hot. What else is there to know?"

  "Do you fear them?"

  "No. Why? Should I?"

  "Fire is the most destructive element in the land. It can consume anything."

  "You tell me that which I already know."

  "Do you remember much of when you were younger?"

  "No. Mother tells me a Fire Mage badly burned me, but I do not remember."

  "It's true," said Athgar. "My own sister, Ethwyn, betrayed us and kidnapped Oswyn. When you tried to intervene, she unleashed a fire streak at you. If it hadn't been for your mother's healing, you would have died."

  "I believe you, but that was in the past. We are now in the present."

  "Have you heard of Artoch?"

  "Yes. He was the master of flame who taught you how to harness your inner spark. Everyone knows that story. Why do you ask?"

  "There are those of us who have come to think you might contain an inner spark of your own."

  "Me? A master of flame? How? Neither of my parents is so gifted."

  "Yes, but neither were mine. They say great suffering can unlock power of this nature. In my case, it was likely the destruction of my village that precipitated the release of my inner spark. I believe yours was when Ethwyn set you ablaze."

  A mild look of panic crossed Agar's face. "Am I in danger?"

  "No, at least not yet. I suspect it will be years before you are able to wield magic, but it would be wise to prepare sooner rather than later."

  "Prepare, how?"

  "If you are willing," said Athgar, "I should like to teach you more about Fire Magic and help you learn to meditate."

  "Meditate?"

  "To look inward and find the spark residing within you. You also need to learn a healthy respect for fire in general, else it will consume you. That is the most important lesson of all."

  Agar smiled, showing his teeth. "When do we begin? Now?"

  Athgar chuckled. "I can see you're eager. Very well, let's start with a simple breathing exercise, shall we?"

  The youngling nodded.

  "Close your eyes and feel deep down inside yourself."

  "How do I do that?"

  "Listen to your body. Feel your heart beat, the blood pump through your veins. Push all other thoughts from your mind."

  Athgar waited, seeing Agar's breathing slow. "Tell me what you see."

  "All is black," replied the young Orc, "and yet not black. It is hard to describe. It is as if I am nothing but thoughts."